Hcs about shadowpeach reconnecting?

i like to think of it being very slow. to me, shadowpeach is the slowest of all slow burns both when they’re developing a relationship and trying to reconnect.

while i am a sucker for shadowpeach fluff and them being all clingy and cuddley, i still don’t think the two would even get that close for some time (and i mean some time).

lemme see if i can do a little rundown (i fucking lied) of my idea of a shadowpeach reconnection post-s4:

after the scroll and after their battle with the Brotherhood, both are in an agreement of a truce. as in, both acknowledged that neither of them wish to really fight or stay upset with the other because both understand that they never really could

so there’s a truce, a renewed exchange of peaches, that informs the other that while nothing will ever be like before….maybe that’s for the best, maybe they deserve something different and new between them

it doesn’t immediately take away from all their hurt feelings and pettiness. Wukong’s teasing will never hit the same and Macky’s guard is still at full defense

MK will still find them arguing up to the sky about something as trivial as which path leads to which waterfall and “shut up and just follow me, you idiot, this mountain has been my home for over a millennia”

but there are baby steps in the right direction (Pigsy would call it the “babiest of steps” but nobody asked him)

it takes them a year to come to terms that their petty arguing is just petty to be petty (tho they hold out a little longer because neither want to admit that to each other because it could meaning losing the game. what game? neither are exactly sure of what)

but it’s after both take the time to really refrain from that itch to bitch that both actually have a chance to talk with some substance (there may have been an external force that led to this conversation; a curse trapping them in a void space, being separated from the group so it’s just them two, the works)

but then that arguing loses its teeth and resembles something like banter. Wukong and Macky never truly did banter much in the past. not like this. it’s a little freeing. to be able to push and pull against each other without any reserve or need to

and this was their relationship for quite some time after. no physical hugs or touches like Wukong was privy to before or that Macky used to indulge in. you had the occasional glance here and there but not enough for the other to notice (everyone else, of course, noticed)

ironically, it’s Macky who initiates their first hug in ages.

Wukong, over the years, has slowly been building up to it with shoulder bumps, a light punch in the shoulder, and sometimes a bump to the hip.

when asked, Wukong would explain that he’s a physically affectionate guy but knows Mac has his limits and does his best to respect that as much as he can

on his own tho, Wukong personally feels like those touches are the most he will ever be granted to give. that is, until after a fierce battle, skirmish, whatever new daring thing that almost costs the Monkie Kid team, Macky actually pulls Wukong in for a hug

it’s nothing big or grand. well, nothing big for anymore normal since it’s a very short side hug, but it was something big for the both of them.

suffice to say, that was enough permission for Wukong to initiate more physical affection towards Macky

neither of them are really ready to put anything that they’re doing to name. makes it more definite and breakable

hell, they don’t even acknowledge that they’re past the point of tolerable acquaintances until a couple years later

but yeah, a shadowpeach reconnection, in my eyes, will takes years (centuries even) to truly rekindle their relationship. like i said, it’s a slow burn and one both want to tread carefully even if it’s agonizing to watch from the outside (see MK and friends)

Long personal life rant

So theres this guy i had a crush on, met him through playing dnd online and we became friends and eventually he flew out to visit me over spring break and we had a good time and on the last night he was there after a few drinks i told him i liked him. He told me he knew but didnt feel the same and just wanted to stay friends, which i was okay with and was pretty much expecting. Except, once he left he kinda stopped talking to me as much, would spend days to respond to messages, never messaged me first, etc. TBH this happened to be taking place during probably the worst year or so of my life so far, and I’ll be honest the rejection even though it was expected... hurt, and i think i freaked a little bit when he started to get distant and maybe got a little clingy and insecure over text, mostly i just kept asking him to please be honest with me about how he felt about me/ how he wanted to go forward. And he kept reassuring he still wanted to be friends and then would ghost me harder. Probably my fault for reacting kinda strongly. Anyways after like a month of not hearing from him i sent him a message apologizing for how i acted, cuz i was truly sorry for how i handled things, and just other blah blah im doing better how are you. Kinda just reaching out to see if i could reconnect and salvage anything of the friendship. He took several days to respond, told me he took so long cuz he really didnt know what to say. Admitted to being distant cuz he didnt think the friendship was good for me and that was kinda it. Felt very much like goodbye, im absolutely certain he’ll never text me if i never text him first. Its been close to a year since i last talked to him. But anyways, he very rarely ever posts to social media, like to the point i kinda forgot i still followed him on things, but it looks like hes on vacation right now cuz he posted to instagram and a bunch of stuff to his snap story and i just.... idk its bringing feelings back up. I feel bad about how things went is all. Kinda wish we were still friends, he’s one of the only other guys ive ever really been close friends with who i felt comfortable talking about liking boys with ( hes bi), which i know is wack and i need to make more gay friends but like whooooole other issue... Idk how to end this basically just yeah im sad

Stay The Night

forgot to post this one here, whoops! some post-canon sweet taakitz for y’all, because I’m weak for these boys. 

Stay The Night (Taako/Kravitz)

His solution, brilliantly, is to not sleep. Not until he falls over from exhaustion or passes out while cooking. He's even got everyone fooled that he's a-okay. At least he thinks he does. No one says otherwise, and that suits him just fine.

you can also read it on AO3 here!

The world doesn't end. And that's a good thing, because they didn't have a backup plan. There was no second chance, no desperate bid for freedom, no tedious reset. It was all or nothing. And they came out on top with all the sweet victory they could ever want. Against all odds, they won. They won, and it's a flood of joy and relief and tinged with a little disbelief. And it's absolutely exhausting. Taako isn't sure if it's physical or mental or just an ungodly combination of both. Maybe it's the weight of over one hundred years of memories finally catching up to him. It's a lot to have lived through, and then to have lived through again, much less cobble back together a coherent understanding of his place in the world. Like, holy fuck. That's a lot to wade through. Sometimes it gives him such a bad headache that it's easier not to think about it, and focus on the here and now. On rebuilding. On reconnecting with those he'd lost but some how found again against all odds. Lup has taken to finding new ways to scare the living hell out of everyone, from floating through the bureau at night to phasing through walls. She even startled him and wasted a whole pot of soup when she popped her lich head up through it. (He had chased her, for all the good it wouldn't do, while she cackled and made full use of her incorporeal form. It had been equal parts nostalgic and aggravating.) Magnus carves ducks in between rebuilding jobs, even though Fisher has long since departed their universe. Merle is trying, and mostly succeeding, to boost morale as they shift through the wreckage, finding what can be saved and mourning what cannot. Everyone is there. Everyone is safe. And yet there's this looming feeling of impending doom that just won't quit. It's as though that through the act remembering, Taako has forgotten what it's like to feel safe. Ignorance really was a sort of bliss, as much as the fuzzed out edges of his life had caused a constant turmoil, because now it's a struggle to stay on top of everything. So much is the same and yet so much can never be the same again. You can't go through something like the apocalypse and not be changed. Sure, at his core he's still Taako, from TV, a living brand name, a hero to be sung about down the ages; but now he's a different kind of Taako. Literally. It still takes a lot to convince himself he doesn't need the illusion spell every morning, and sometimes he does it anyway. Just a little. Nothing too noticeable, but enough to make him feel better, especially on the very likely chance that he hasn't slept much. Sleep is hard now. Meditation is straight out the fuckin' window. Nights and days get stretched together when he's plagued with either insomnia, or worse, the dreams. No, not dreams, because that would imply fantastical but harmless mind adventures. These are memories. Always back to the goddamn memories. The worst ones, the times they almost didn't make it, when he had to watch friends die or feel the cold sting of death himself. Or memories that his brain decided to make up new, more grim endings; his sister, turned to ash, his boy, bleeding out on the floor. Endless rounds of games in a horror carnival that leaves everyone he ever cared about in pieces. Things that leave him awake and gasping and on the edge of tears. Things like that. His solution, brilliantly, is to not sleep. Not until he falls over from exhaustion or passes out while cooking. He's even got everyone fooled that he's a-okay. At least he thinks he does. No one says otherwise, and that suits him just fine.

Date night rolls around. Taako has been looking forward to it all month, a distraction and an excuse to monopolize Death's free time. No business talk. No family. No not-actually-family-but-kinda-sorta-maybe-adopted family. Just the two of them, together, for a nice evening. And god, did he need a break. There's still so many loose ends to tie up, so many things that still need to be sorted out. Not to mention the new void of what the hell he was going to do with his life now. Kravitz stops when he sees him. He squints at Taako, and frowns. "Are you okay?" "Just fine, babe," as fine as he could be, really, "Why, didja forget how gross I looked now?" When all else fails, self-deprecating humor is where it's at. He can preen and put himself down at the same time. Win-win. Kravitz pauses, brows knitted and looking at him intently, seemingly gathering up the right words. "Taako," he begins carefully, "When was the last time you slept?" "Dunno. What's today?" The reaper sighs. He rubs his forehead. Taako drapes himself lovingly in his arms. He's dizzy on an endorphin high and ready for a night out on the town with his most beloved bae. Even if said bae keeps looking at him with such a sour face, and-- "You're going to bed. Right now." "Oh no--" Taako attempts to bolt, but has already made the fatal mistake of allowing Kravitz so close. He might not technically be alive, but he has all the strength of a man his size, and Kravitz has him in a vice grip. He struggles. Any other day of the week and he'd be admiring those guns, but today they're helping commit a great betrayal. Taako whines. "Babe! C'mon!" "No," Kravitz picks him up and starts carrying him inside, "You look like I should be collecting your soul soon, and frankly, that's a little alarming." Taako does his best to wriggle out of his grasp, but it's fruitless. Kravitz can be just as stubborn as he is. Taako resorts to flailing and complaining. However, neither of those slow down the reaper, who's drawing ever closer to his dormitory door. "I don't need sleep! It's for the weak!" "Yes, you do," Somehow Kravitz manages to keep a hold of him even as Taako flips himself upside down, which is both impressive and infuriating, "We can go out another time." Taako huffs and crosses his arms, braid swinging freely and dragging on the floor. This sucks. He can't even get one lousy night to not think about how overwhelming everything is. Kravitz is the worst and he hates him. (He doesn't, of course, he adores his hot boyfriend who's sometimes a skeleton, who's both a badass and a giant dork. He's just mad at him at the moment.) Taako gives him the silent treatment. It's harder to do than it looks, because he'd much rather be vocal about the injustice that's happening to him. Kravitz sighs again. "Taako--" "I'm not talking to you." "Love, please," the pet names have come out, and he resolves to not let it affect him, "You know I care, right?" "I guess," Taako pouts as he's gently set on a couch, "But I wanted to spend time with you." Kravitz looks conflicted. Taako sulks and makes a point to avoid eye contact. So maybe he's a little cranky for only sleeping three hours out of as many days. It's still not fair. "I could stay." Kravitz says. He blinks dumbly up at him. "Do what now?" "Stay with you. While you get some rest. That's a lot creepier out loud than it was in my head." "Do you even need to sleep?" "No," Kravitz admits, "But I wouldn't mind. I mean, if you wanted me to. I don't have to. But I could, I have the whole night off, not that I expected to... do anything. For the whole night. I should stop taking now? I'm stopping now. Sorry." He can't believe he's in love with such a ridiculous, stupid, wonderful, and kind person. Entity? The definition was kind of up in the air for that one. Taako doesn't have to look to know that Kravitz is blushing, probably all the way up to his ears, off-kilter and rambling. He's still wrapping his head around the idea that there are persons out there who, honest to gods, want to put Taako first. Taako doesn't even think Taako deserved that. Sure, that's not what he tells people-- because no one needs to know how bad the inner battle gets. In some ways remembering has made it easier. In others, it's that much harder now. He thinks, that maybe, it would be nice to have someone at his side. Someone who liked him before his life's story got broadcast through reality. Taako considers the proposal for a moment. "Okay." "Okay?" "Okay as in, you best be ready to get super snuggled. I'm clingy as hell." Kravitz gives him a shy smile. "I think I can handle that."

Kravitz has a bigger frame than he does-- nothing like Magnus or Killian who are built like brick shit houses, but he's not as slight as Taako is. Even as a flipwizard, there's not much he can do about genetics and non-athletic career choices. It takes him a minute to fish out some of his more drapey clothes that have half a chance of fitting Kravitz. As much as he enjoys the suit and cloak ensemble, it's not exactly practical sleepwear. And it would be a shame to excessively wrinkle it. Unless it was gonna be in a sexy way, but that should probably wait until another time, when he's fully present for all the fun. Taako's fanciest skirt goes flying across the room, landing on a bookshelf that has less books than colorful knick-knacks and choice pieces of junk. The first time Kravtiz had come over, in a panic he had tried to cover everything in sheets instead of cleaning up, but somehow managed to trip and pull them all down at once. It had been equal parts hysterical and mortifying. Kravitz said that his collection of garbage was 'charming'. Taako still isn't sure he believes that, but it's still sweet. What's also sweet is the way that Kravitz pointedly looks away, trying to be respectful or something-- as though they haven't fucked wildly on various flat (and not so flat) surfaces around his room. He's flustered and it's still as cute as the first time it happened. And nothing would top that first morning, that so called walk of shame where Merle gave them a knowing wink when they came down for breakfast, and Taako had 'accidentally' burned his pancakes in return. At least everyone else had a little more tact and kept their opinions and eyes to themselves. None of them also wanted burned pancakes. But he sets aside those more recent and pleasant memories for pajamas instead, wiggling into them and undoing his complicated orante braids as Kravitz dons his spare clothes. They're still a little tight on him. Taako is very okay with this. "Just sleeping." Kravitz says firmly, catching his gaze. He pouts back. "Not even a little smooching?" The reaper pauses and seems to think on it a moment, though he knows what the answer will probably be. Taako makes his eyes extra big and disarming anyway, having perfected the cute puppy look years ago. You could never be too sure. "Fine, a little smooching," Kravitz yields, "But you have to get some rest." Taako dramatically falls forward into those strong arms again, knowing he'll be easily caught and securely held. "Then take me to bed, big guy." He doesn't miss that breathless laugh, and revels in the way his heart lifts as he's easily swung up and onto his unmade bed. There's no illusions here that if Taako really wanted to he could have a dozen different spells incapacitating his lover, leaving escape for him wide open. Power acquired over decades of study and practice and mad dashes across planes has given him abilities previously only talked about in legends. And so maybe he is a legend, something that should be mysterious and untouchable, always sought but never found. Just like a light they'd once chased through realities. A story to be sung, a name to be called in hushed tones, an abstract ideal to be strived towards. So it's nice, he thinks, when Kravitz looks at him like a person. When Kravitz gets frustrated with him, exasperated, or even bemused. When he looks at Taako like he's the whole world and then kisses him like it's ending all over again. It's nice to have that grounding force to remind him that he's not entirely a fuck up and that he's also not just a product of good marketing. He never thought it would matter to him so much. But it does, and every action is an affirmation, from the way Kravitz smiles at him to the way he runs fingers so gently through his hair. It's wonderful and it hurts and it's so good. He's drunk on the feeling of being wanted. "It's... not too cold, is it?" Kravitz asks him nervously as he curls up on that broad chest, nestling into the crook between neck and shoulder. Yes, he's cool to the touch-- he's never been anything approaching warm since Taako met him. But he's gotten used to it, adapted even, because Kravitz doesn't feel icy and doesn't leave him with a chill. It's almost pleasant in weird way. "S' fine," he mumbles back sleepily, "Kinda nice, actually." Already something is different from all the other times he'd recently crawled into bed or dozed off in the foyer. Something shifts, puts a damper on the rolling anxiety and dread. It takes him another few long moments to realize it's an aura of safety that he's been missing. A bit of calm in a turbulent sea that's been threatening to sink him for weeks. There's no heartbeat beneath his ear, and he's sure the breathing part is either habit or for his own benefit, but it's a piece of normalcy that soothes beyond a doubt. It's something he hadn't realized he even needed. Something solid. Something real. He wraps his arm around Kravitz and holds tight. Taako hadn't been kidding about the clinging part, knowing full well from his days of youth he had a tendency to latch onto things (or someones) in his sleep. This is still different, a conscious effort not to let go of a tie keeping him close to home. Because petty fears and insecurities only seemed to grow as time went on, feeding on each other and plaguing every thought both conscious and not, bringing him to the vicious cycle he was now caught in. And while usually the words would flow so easily, he now found them strangled in his throat. They died before Taako can give them a voice. Kravitz must have felt the tension reverberating through his body, because a hand comes up to push circles into his back. Yes, they've banged countless times, but this is a different intimacy. A different context for something slow and sweet. And he suddenly feels bad for being so needy and high maintenance, but can't summon the energy to do anything about it. "I'm right here," Kravitz murmurs into the darkness, "I'm not going anywhere." And really, that's all he needs to know. That there's someone there. That it's safe to let go.