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forever-rogue · 5 years ago

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With the razor crest destroyed, din no longer has that tiny closet(?) to sleep in. Imagine when grogu goes, din and you take a break and go to Naboo just to relax, process things and live in a villa retreat. He just cherishes you and loves you desperately like no other cos he can’t lose you too. You guys enjoy all the spaceand peace you have but can’t help missing the little green bean 🥺😭

Did someone say hurt & comfort hours? Because I believe that’s in order. Please enjoy. I am...crying. 🥺🥺

Din Djarin x Fem!Reader; warnings: S2 Finale Spoilers!

The Mandalorian Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Din?" his name was soft - reverent - as you stirred from slumber. Stretching, you reached across the plush bed to reach for your riduur, but instead of his warm, soft body, you found nothing. Emptiness. Sighing lightly, you realized the sheets were long cold. Again.

Pulling the soft, plush blankets back, you slipped out of the bed. You pulled on your discarded robe before striding over to the balcony where you could see his exhausted frame. He was leaning over the stone railing, head hung low as he clasped his hands together, almost as if he was praying to something - anything.

Maybe he was. Maybe he was praying to Maker to keep him safe. You safe. To figure out everything that had happened in the last several weeks. Everything he had ever known and come to know was crumbling apart right in front of him. Except you; his rock, his partner, his everything.

Din Djarin had never been a religious man, not unless, of course, it was something to do with his creed. But even that was out the window now.

He had so many questions, and yet so few answers. All he had now was you. And it was enough, more than enough.

You grounded him, enveloped him in a sense of peace and warmth in the chaos that seemed to rule his life. He was sure you were the only thing between sanity and him giving up and becoming an unholy mess at the moment.

"Din," you whispered his name to keep from startling him. He remained silent, unmoving as you came up behind him, wrapping your arms his waist before resting your head on his shoulder, "my light and stars. You weren't in bed."

"Couldn't sleep," he murmured as he put a hand onto top of yours, the cool metal of his wedding band almost burning your skin as he offered a gentle squeeze to your hand. You mumbled something inaudible before pressing a few kisses to the bare golden skin of his shoulder.

"I know, Din," you said softly, "but you need to try and rest. You haven't slept much in weeks."

"Yes," you felt his shoulders slump as he exhaled slowly, "its just...its..."

"I know," you admitted quietly, "I know its hard right now. So hard. But it will be okay, he will be okay. This is not...this is not the end. We will see him again, Din. He is our son."

Your Mandalorian remained silent for a few moments, but you could hear his breathing grow ragged, and his inhales and exhales become more sporadic. It was quiet, only the soft sounds of the waves of the lake slapping into sand and the singing of songbirds could be heard. Eventually, you heard a few sniffles before feeling a few tears spill onto your hand.

"Shhh," you soothed him, stroking your thumb over the back of his hand. You hummed softly under your breath as you held him, wishing you could take his pain and hurt away. You were grieving too, the sorrow and pain ran deep, but you knew it wasn't forever. And right now you needed to he strong for him, for him and yourself, for Grogu.

"I'm..." he stopped himself as you kissed the back of his neck, squeezing him as tightly as possibly to let him know just how loved he was.

"Its okay, my love," you promised softly, "let it go, let it all out. Its not good to hold it all in."

And so he did. He let himself weep, to cry with reckless abandon as he turned around in your arms and engulfed you in his own, swallowing you up as he clung onto as though his life depended on it. Burrowing his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, you reached up and carded a hand through his dark curls. Rocking him back and forth softly, you rubbed his back in calming motions, and offered him tender words of reassurance, much as you would have done for your little one.

In that moment you radiated nothing but love onto him, trying to convey how much he meant to you, how he was the brightest star in your galaxy, how everything would be okay.

Eventually, his heart wrenching sobs turned to quiet sniffles, and after a time you were once again met with nothing but the tranquil stillness of nature.

Din pulled back from you, his large hands finding your face as he studied your features. Your hands went to his wrists as you held onto them gently. He leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to your forehead, "thank you mesh'la. I love you more than you will ever know."

"I love you too, Brown Eyes," you offered him a small smile as he eyes crinkled softly with the ghost of a smile, "you know I love you with all of my heart. You are everything to me, Din."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he admitted softly as you pressed a kiss to his lips. He brought his hands down to your waist as you gently wiped away the remnants of his tears, "I can't lose you. Not after..."

"You didn't lose him, Din," you insisted, "this was what we knew might happen all along. The bond the two of you share is immeasurable. You will always find your back to each other. I swear it - and I will be by your side always. We’re a family, and that means no matter how great the distance or time, in the end we will always be together.”

"It hurts," he admitted with a shaky breath as you offered a nod in understanding, "when will it stop hurting? I don't want to feel like this forever. I thought it would get better.”

“I wish I had an answer for you,” you wrapped him back up in your touch, “it’s going to hurt, and that’s okay, it’s normal. But it won’t always be like this; it will get better and easier, but the most important thing is that you remember that what you did, the choice he made, was the right thing. You didn’t do anything bad or wrong, even though it might feel like that now.”

“I know,” he agreed with the smallest of smiles as he kissed the side of your, “this was my mission from the start....and he chose to reach out to the Jedi.”

“He did,” you concluded, “but that he doesn’t mean he didn’t want to be with you, or that he didn’t love you, or stop thinking of you as his father. He needs to do this for himself too.”

“You must think me foolish for getting so attached.”

“Never,” you promised sharply, turning his face so he was looking at you, “experiencing emotion is not a shameful thing. You loved - love - him, Din, and he feels the same. There is nothing wrong with opening your heart and loving. Look at us; did you ever think we’d end up here?”

“No,” he sniffled quietly as you laughed at the memory of your first encounter with Din Djarin, “you tried to blast me to pieces and then knocked me out.”

“I thought you were an intruder and I was trying to protect myself,” you insisted with a kiss to his cheek, “my point is that its okay to love and sometimes it is scary and daunting, but its okay. Love is...its everything. And with it, we’ll get through anything. You taught him so much and he did the same to you.”

“He did...before him, before you, I didn’t think I would ever...” he stopped and caught your gaze, his soft,dark eyes looking at with such intensity, but still so much vulnerability, “we’ll get him back. One day. And no matter how long it is, it doesn’t anything. We’ll always be aliit.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, scratching gently at his scalp as he keened into your touch, “family is everything, you know this. Besides, your story... his story is far from over. There is still much left to do in this life.”

“I think I’d like a long break first,” for the first time in weeks, since he’d made his tearful goodbye to Grogu, you hear him laugh. A genuine, warm, full bodied laugh. The sound was enough to make your heart warm and settle down in your chest. It was a beautiful sound that you had desperately missed, and hearing it was again set everything right in the galaxy. You hummed in agreement as you let him hold you and rested your head against his chest, “I’d like to spend some time alone with my riduur. To rest. To relax - to breathe.”

“We have all the time in the galaxy, Din,” you promised, “we can stay here as long as we want.”

“I like that,” he agreed, kissing the crown of your head, “besides, who knows what hellish adventure awaits whenever we decide to rejoin the world?”

“It’s never a dull day for Din Djarin, or should I say my Mand’alor?” you teased as you started to reached for his hands to pull him back inside so he could actually rest.

“Oh no,” he groaned jokingly, “please, not you too.”

“I jest,” you insisted as he let you pulled him inside, “if you’re the ruler of anything, you’re my King, Din. I am yours, always and forever.”

“I like the sound of that,” he sighed contentedly, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Din.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#the mandalorian #the Mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #star wars #fem!reader #the mandalorian spoilers

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 4 years ago

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Short Snippet - Abestache - Lost in the Work

First attempt writing Abe, so I’m not making it too long!

Word Count: 830

After the fiasco with Wilford that had him doubting his memories and his sanity, Abe took time to refocus himself and rediscover a sense of purpose in the world that didn’t make sense. Once he was working on jobs that didn’t focus on the former Colonel, it was clear that his skills were as sharp as ever. He’d gotten back into private investigating and was thriving. The office he was renting was back to its usual chaos as the cork boards dotted around the room were filled up with various documents, photographs, and red string connecting trains of thought together. A whiteboard and a large chalkboard took up opposite walls: the former with the summary of the investigation, the latter with ideas, theories and brainstorms.

He leaned back against his desk, taking a slow puff of his nicotine inhaler (not quite ‘kicking the habit’, but a start) as he examined the whiteboard. There was an obvious factor in this case that he was missing.

“Miles clearly knows more than he’s letting on,” he murmured as he paced to the chalkboard, “and there’s no easy way to find out how to prove it. I’ll need to grab his ass - a-and put it in a chair for another interrogation. If I'm gonna get information on how he's a smelly bum bum, then I need to start by… Wait a minute." Abe cut off his monologue when he re-read the board. Sure enough, 'Is Miles a smelly bum bum??' was written on the list, but in a different handwriting. "What the-"

Giggling caught his attention, and Abe turned around in time to see a blur of pink duck behind his desk. He rolled his eyes and marched over, slamming his hands on the desk as he leaned over it.

"Wilford."

The culprit looked up at him with bright eyes and a mischievous grin poking out under the moustache.

"Yer talkin' out loud again, liquorice."

"I'm working. And I thought I told you not to call me that."

"Nah, ya told me not ta call ya 'lollipop'. This is completely different!" Wilford hopped up and mirrored Abe's pose, though he stretched across the desk and pecked the detective on the nose. "I knew y'd be obsessin' over th' case again."

"Look, I appreciate the concern, but I've only been here three hours max. I'm fine."

"What day is it?"

"What?"

"What day is it?"

"It's Monday. Like it was when I left this morning."

"It's Tuesday, sugar."

Abe frowned, knowing that one of them was wrong and both had issues with time keeping. However, his struggle only kicked in when… he was stressed about a job. His phone was whipped out. Sure enough, it was Tuesday. He hissed a curse under his breath as he pocketed his phone. He couldn't afford to fall behind. Who knows what problems could arise?

"Thanks. I didn't realise I -" Abe looked up, sighing and turning to see where Wilford had vanished to this time. "Wait wait, don't touch that!" Abe dashed to the whiteboard and snatched the marker off Wilford. He capped and pocketed it, only to hear the familiar squeaking of marker on board regardless. Wilford had claimed an empty corner with a spare marker and had begun to doodle flowers and a person. "Wilford!"

"What?"

"Stop tarnishing my summary board with graffiti!"

"But ya look so cute." With his best puppy-dog eyes, Wilford pointed at the board. The cartoon figure was bald and had a tiny hint of a smile on his face. "I know I'm not gonna be able ta getcha outta here until ya solve th' mystery, but I can give ya a little somethin' ta keep yer spirits up." As Wilford set to work drawing a sun wearing sunglasses, Abe examined the notes around him. His mentor had always told him the importance of taking a step back from work to give the mind a break.

The sound of a pen uncapping snapped Wilford’s concentration away from drawing perfectly squiggly lines from his 'cool sun'. Abe was now crouching beside him, tongue poking out in concentration as he drew out a stick figure beside the one Wilford drew. Two eyes were drawn, then an 'L' shaped nose and a big smile, before it was topped off with a moustache.

"Baaabe, I look adorable!" Wilford cooed. When he leaned on Abe's shoulder, the Detective didn't try to push him off. Progress!

"Yeah, well, I never went to art college. I can't do anything better."

"Who cares? It's a very 'you' style! I love it," Wilford kissed Abe on the cheek, "an' we make a very handsome pair, y'know." Abe chortled. Yes, yes they were a rather handsome pair.

The empty corner of the whiteboard gradually came to life with more scribbles to build up the scene. Abe even adjusted his drawing of Wilford so the pair were holding hands.

For now, work was forgotten entirely as the pair focused on the here and now.

#writersofmark #abestache #abe the detective #Wilford Warfstache #fluff #Rose Petals (Wilford)#Sharp Mind (Abe)#(if I've written Abe wrong you have full permission to tear me apart for it)#(also why do I keep writing Wilford ships? Because he's a man with a whole lotta love stored in him)#(and from rp experience he's the one I've written *in* relationships the most. But I'm gonna try to branch out!#After I finish the other Wilf-ship fic I'm working on)#(*pats Wilford on the head* this boy can fit so much love in him)#short snippet #(and look! I didn't do a whole 'establish the ship' thing. I'm getting less long winded!!)

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jtrbluv · 5 years ago

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we’re not really strangers | pjm

summary: We’re Not Really Strangers is a purpose-driven card game and movement all about empowering meaningful connections. Three carefully crafted levels of questions and wildcards that allow you to deepen your existing relationships and create new ones. Ready?

or alternatively,

your furtive infatuation with your lifelong best friend proves to be hard to suppress when there’s (1) alcohol involved and (2) a card game that forces you to reveal more about yourself than you could ever wish for. in short, no, you are not ready.

[friends to lovers!au]

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, crack, slight angst

word count: 8.7k

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, two emotionally constipated best friend, PG-15

A/N: hi, i’ve been really excited about this fic for a while, and i’m genuinely so happy that i finally finished it! the card game is in fact real and i got inspired for this fic after i had played the game with a couple of friends myself. AHEM! @koushiningg ! we both cried and i do highly recommend to play it! but anyways, i hope you enjoy this fic because i had a lot of fun writing it! sending love always... jumi out!

EDIT: @bangtans-peaceful-piegon i’d also like to thank the lovely pidge for beta reading this 4 me as well! PIDGE I FUCKIN LOB U!!!

PLAYLIST ; SEQUEL

♤ ♤ ♤

Not once in your life did you ever imagine a simple card game to become the bane of your existence.

Yet Park Jimin was able to prove you wrong.

Let’s play ‘We’re Not Really Strangers’ he said. It’ll be fun, he said.

You stare down at the card in front of you—everything else in your periphery was blurry in vision and you can audibly pinpoint the erratic beating of your heart.

The card was practically taunting you, laughing in your face. It was as if there was a sentient being in the room who was aware of your own subconscious and the not so latent feelings you had for the boy sitting in front of you.

Same said being loved to constantly place you in a state of trepidation concerning your current situation—your blood pressure skyrocketing—nearly feeling the muscular pink thing inside of you thrusting itself against your ribcage.

The white card with crimson red writing made sure to leave an impact, making you feel the most ridiculed you’ve felt all night which says a lot—leaving your mind in a complete frenzy although you refused to let it be known.

And so you sat there. Fiddling the card in between your fingers, feigning nonchalance. You were very much on the brink of cracking your facade—your sanity practically crumbling as the minutes ticked by. You didn’t think you’d last this long to be honest. Yet an hour and a half proved to be way too straining on your body, especially your heart.

He simply sat there with his hands folded on the table—void of emotion, whistling a familiar top 50s tune you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You considered shifting your focuses on trying to comprehend the tune—hoping it would ease the concerning state of apprehension you were in.

But then you remember that you aren’t that pathetic. Even though you both had probably been sitting in complete silence for about two minutes now. Up to the point where you could probably hear the crickets chirping outside his apartment, except the only sound that was filling your ears was your own conscience telling you how idiotic you were being.

Your face may be gradually morphing the same shade of crimson as the writing inscribed onto the card itself, and you may have a whole line of sweat encompassing your hairline. But it’s just a stupid little card game. You could say any stupid little answer and the stupid not-so-little boy wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care. So you shouldn’t care.

When did you become so pathetic after all?

-one hour and a half ago-

“Why can’t we just play Mario Kart or Uno? This sounds like there’s too much thinking involved,” you whine, leaning against the side of his couch.

“One, we always play that. And two, I always lose,” he grumbles, plopping down onto the floor.

Jimin rests his back on the frame of the couch as he sits in the small gap made by the large piece of furniture and the coffee table that resided in front of it. You decide to sit on the floor as well, around an arm’s length away from your friend. He places the red box down onto the table—opening the cap and revealing the contents with a mischievous glint in his irises.

Within the box was a deck of cards, separated into three piles with two pencils on either side. Knowing Jimin, you assumed this game had an ulterior motive you were unaware of, and by the title of the game, you could already tell that you weren’t going to like it very much.

“How do you even play this?” You ask, causing him to look up in return.

He bites his lip, taking a couple seconds to ponder on your question, “I don’t know it’s my first-time playing too,” he shrugs. “I was watching Jin and Namjoon playing it a couple of weeks ago and for some reason, Jungkook started crying.”

“He is a sap,” you hum in agreement, thinking in retrospect of Jungkook crying from various situations such as Iron Man dying or that one time Jin farted on his pillow and he got pink eye for a whole week.

“The biggest,” he concurs, “Hm, there’s no instructions in here.” He mutters while shuffling through the cards.

“Why don’t you just search it up?” You suggest, sliding the box to yourself as he nods and fishes his phone out of his pocket.

While holding the box in the palm of your hand, you scan the contents—turning it around in your palm until your eyes narrow in on the words printed at the bottom.

“Oh, it says something here.”

His head perks up. “Hm? What is it?”

You clear your throat at the sight of the long explanation. “We’re Not Really Strangers is a purpose-driven card game and movement all about empowering meaningful connections. Three carefully crafted levels of questions and wildcards that allow you to deepen your existing relationships and create new ones.” You internally grimace at the words. The game hasn’t even started and you already had a bad feeling about it all. “Ready?” You say through clenched teeth, purposely keeping your head hung low.

Jimin’s lips quirk up into a cheerful grin, unaware of the piercing stare you were giving him. “Okay, I think I got it,” he declares, eyes zeroed in on his phone once more, ”There’s three levels—perception, connection, and reflection. Each level we pass, the deeper and more thought-provoking the questions get. Helping us make a deeper connection and get to know each other better yadda yadda yadda.”

You nod in understanding, sliding the box of cards back towards him—forcing the grimace that kept threatening to plaster itself onto your face into a small, smug smile.

“The first thing we have to do,” he begins, taking out two pencils and two small pieces of paper, “is write messages to each other. We won’t be able to open these until after we leave.” He explains, sliding a pencil and paper towards you.

“Wow, very cryptic,” you tut, biting down on your bottom lip before more distasteful remarks decided to leave your lips. He doesn’t catch your reaction or your comment though because he’s already got his pencil in his hand, scribbling vigorously onto the tiny piece of paper. Knowing him it could very well be nonsensical insults and doodles, or a whole essay about your friendship and what you mean to him. Most likely ludicrous and full of thought, either way, just like him.

Without much thought, you lazily jot onto the paper.

know that i love u, u fucker <3

-y/n

The sound of your pencil falling against the table causes him to look up at you, eyes knit together in confusion.

“You’re done already?”

You chuckle, “I mean, I wasn’t going to write an essay. You already know how I feel about you. But it seems like you’re writing one though.”

His eyes narrow in on you—giving you an indiscernible look before letting out a small ‘hmph’ and lowering his focus back down to his pencil and paper. You dismiss his enigmatic behavior—deciding to mindlessly scroll on your phone while waiting for him to finish his MLA formatted essay.

Two minutes pass and you hear the sound of his pencil being placed onto the table. “Done.”

“You added citations too right?”

He scoffs, “No, but i’ll gladly add some if you’d like.”

You roll your eyes for what seems like the umpteenth time in the last five minutes, “Just start the goddamn game.”

He takes the first stack of cards and shuffles them between his hands. “In all three levels, there are wild cards or basically dares we have to complete. And for each level, we get two ‘dig deeper’ cards. Pretty self-explanatory. So this is the perception level. It’s basically designed for first encounters and strangers, and we’re gonna be asking each other questions about ourselves.”

Your eyes widen at the whole confidentiality of it all. “Are we going through all of those cards?” You blurt out, staring at what seemed to be like 50 cards in his hands.

“Oh no,” he quickly refutes, “It would take hours. We’ll just do like 12 cards each.”

“Alright,” you huff, letting out a small breath of relief.

“Yay! Okay I’ll go first,” he beams, his toothy smile evident as he places the deck in between the two of you while grabbing a card from the top, “What do you think my name is?”

You snort at the conspicuousness of the question, “Jamal.”

He immediately guffaws at your response, throwing his head back in addition. “Hey, I don’t mind that.”

“Are all of the questions like this?” You say in between hushed laughter.

“Nah,” he shakes his head as you pick up another card from the deck, “now you ask me.”

“Alright, what’s the first thing you noticed about me?” You ask, slightly taken aback by the sudden earnestness of the question, causing you to become genuinely curious about what his answer was going to be.

He hums, taking a second to think it through. “I think your smile and your laugh. It’s always been really contagious since the day I met you.” He admits, almost matter-of-factly as if it was something you should’ve known by now, yet you did not.

Your heart nearly disintegrates into a puddle of goop right then and there, but you manage to conceal your reaction, “Aw, you actually like me.” You tease.

He scoffs with a playful grin on his lips. “Don’t flatter yourself. You still cackle like a damn hyena.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “At least I don’t laugh at every single of Jin’s lame ass jokes.”

He gasps, jaw slack open due to your all too accurate truthbomb, “I did not ask to be attacked in my own residence.”

“Well, what are you gonna do about it then.”

He snorts. “Holy shit, do you remember when I banged my head on the corner of his coffee table.”

“How could I forget? I had the picture of the bump on your head as my lockscreen for like a month.” You reminisce, resisting the urge to pull up the picture from your phone.

“Yeah, and that same month I bought and rotated between the same 10 hats.”

“Hey! It genuinely didn’t look as bad as you thought.”

He whips his head towards you, giving you a piercing glare that made you want to redact your statement immediately.

He grins from ear to ear, the little shit, amused at the reaction he was able to garner from you.

“Aha!” He suddenly guffaws, shooting out of the floor and prancing towards his fridge. He then takes out three bottles of lychee-flavored soju and makes his way back towards the table.

Jimin being the borderline alcoholic he is, it doesn’t come as a surprise to you. Not even after he takes another trip back to the fridge to grab yet another three bottles of soju, mango-flavored to be exact. He has probably one of the stupidest grins etched onto his face as he held onto the bottles—meanwhile you were more concerned about the possibility of having to clean up a bunch of broken glass and wasted soju. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“And do you plan on drinking all of this by yourself?” you say, gesturing towards the bottles.

“I know my liver is strong, but I don’t buy this shit just to enjoy alone,” he retorts. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you shake your head as you click your tongue, “Playing this while tipsy just sounds ten times better don’t you think?.”

You shrug—although you had a strong hunch for what he was insinuating, “I mean I guess.”

He starts to pour soju into his shot glass, stopping just before it hits the brim. He slides the glass to you and you take it into your hand, eyeing the sparkling fluid and thinking about the way the contents would do its little all-too-familiar dance on your tongue.

“Well, you know what they say,” he says, pouring a glass for himself, “drunk words are sober thoughts,” he finishes while dragging out the last word—downing the first shot in one quick swig. You follow his lead soon thereafter, refusing to let your mind linger on what he had just said and the viable likelihood of you spewing out the words that could just make or break your longstanding friendship and lead to a lifetime of regret.

Obviously, everything’s going fine and dandy for you.

The next 20 minutes consisted of a plethora of superficial questions that would vary from:

“What's your favorite song lyric you can think of off the top of your head?”

Your head shoots up as if the lightbulb in your head just flashed on. “Easy. Shawty’s like a melody in my head that i cant keep out got me singing like-“

He lunges over to clap a hand over your mouth before you could sing the next line. “Na na na na no Y/N. Please stop.”

Or something along the lines of:

“What character do you think I'd play in a movie?” He asks with a smug smile.

“You’d be the second male lead that everyone secretly wants to end up with the main character because you act all sweet and kind and and genuinely cares about her but instead she chooses the other guy because something about him draws her in and it was her ‘gut instinct’ or some shit like that.”

“So I would get second male lead syndrome?” He reiterates.

“Yes.”

He sets his shot glass back down with a glower, clearly taken aback. “That is the biggest insult I’ve ever gotten in my entire life.”

You also couldn’t forget about:

“Oh, this one says to create a secret handshake.”

“No.” You deadpan.

“And why not?”

“Your pinky‘s the size of a vienna sausa—“

He smacks you square in the cheek with a pillow before you could finish your sentence. You don’t even fight back because your mind was so slow to process what he had just done. The fact that you only slept for 5 hours last night didn’t help whatsoever. Your evident lack of energy causes him to jab his finger into your side, causing a loud shriek—your fight or flight response starts kicking in as you grab the back of his neck and slam his face against the fabric of the couch cushion.

Soju was never able to make the two of you full on drunk—buzzed of course, but not enough for complete incoherency. And so you both down a bottle each before finishing the first round.

“I’m surprised we didn’t get any wild cards that round,” he says while resting his head on the couch.

You purse your lips, “You spoke too soon.”

His eyes flash open as he cranes his neck in an attempt to see the card. “Wait actually?”

You can feel your insides churn as you read the words in front of you, and you were sure that it wasn’t the alcohol talking. “Write down the three most important things to you in a relationship for 30 seconds and then compare.”

Jimin reaches over to grab two pieces of paper and pencils while unlocking his phone to find the timer app, “Okay, I’ll put a timer on for 30 seconds starting… now.”

And so the internal monologue in your head begins.

Three most important things… only three? That’s not anywhere near enough to suffice. Wait, what would the first one even be… oh yeah, trust. Trust is very much important yes, yes, yes. What else? Um, communication? Yes of course, that’s essential. Okay, what would the last one be?

You sneak a glance over at Jimin. His cheek is squished against the palm of his hand, making his cheek fat (an area in which he lacked in) more prominent and the pink, plush flesh of his lips appear even bigger than they already were.

The ceiling light emitted a faint, ambient glow—the lights and shadows hitting all the slopes and curves of his face. You never understood how someone could be so effortlessly stunning. Even the mess atop his head that’s supposed to be his hair looks purposely tousled—the ebony strands sticking up in multiple directions was framing his temples and contrasted with the honey-like hues of his skin.

Unlike the glow that radiated from the lights of the worn-down apartment and the radiance of whatever was beyond the glass of the window behind him, everything about him seemed to glow much brighter.

“Hello, earth to Y/N, your 30 seconds is up.” He interrupts pointedly, waving a hand in front of your face.

Blinking rapidly, you shake your head as well as all preceding thoughts that definitely weren’t consuming your mind a few seconds ago, “Sorry w-what?”

He laughs at your disoriented state, “Did you finish writing your three things?”

No, I wrote your name as number 3. “Yeah, I did. You can go first though.”

He nods with a small smile. “Oh, okay then let’s see. First, I put trust. I don’t know, I think everyone puts that to be honest. After that, I put communication. I feel like that’s just a given y’know. Another thing I feel like most people would say.”

You utter a timid “mhm” under your breath albeit zoning out and being unaware of what he was saying. Opportunely, you managed to scribble out his name with the mere seconds that had passed and now you were tapping the lead point of the pencil against the paper, littering the page with a bunch of grey, little dots—incognizant to the fact that he had his eyes focused on you the whole time.

“I didn’t really know what to put last. Three things isn’t anywhere near enough in my opinion. But at the last second, I wrote down vulnerability,” he continues.

You look up upon hearing the last word. “Oh wow, that’s good. I didn’t even think about that.”

He chuckles unabashedly, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Right? I just figured. At first, I thought it would go in the same category as trust but then I thought about it more. Yeah, you can trust someone and someone can trust you, but to what extent does that all go to. Where does it start? And where does it even end? You need to be able to open up to the person I feel like. So I guess trust and vulnerability go hand in hand.”

Impressed with his words, you decide to chime in. “Wouldn’t communication go along with it too?”

“Hm?”

You place your pencil down. “You would open up to each other by means of communication, becoming more vulnerable, and then overall gaining more trust in the end.”

His brows raise at your sudden revelation, “Wait, you’re so right, did you just wax poetic and full cycle all that?.”

You smile, “I mean I guess,” you respond humbly, “ it does make sense though, does it not?”

He hums in agreement while downing another shot, “It applies to us, right?”

You force out a chuckle, but it comes out a lot more faux-sounding than you would’ve liked. “Haha, yeah I guess it does, doesn’t it.” Once again, starting to dive deeper into the abyss of pitiful hope and unrequitedness.

“Describe your perfect day.” He suddenly interjects.

You quirk a brow. “Didn’t I just go?”

“It’s okay, I’ll go for this one too.”

“Alright,” you say, foot tapping on the wooden floor as you look past him and out into the glass window of his living room, “well, I wouldn’t have school of course. And I think it would all depend on how I feel that day. If I was feeling particularly lazy, the day would probably consist of me binge-watching shows in bed while eating a shitton of carbs. And the other case would probably be galavanting around the city or going to an amusement park with friends.”

Jimin listens intently and smiles as you speak, causing you to avoid his stare before pigment threatened to rush to your cheeks, “Both of those scenarios sound really nice. I better be included too.”

You roll your eyes, turning away to hide the grin creeping up your cheeks, “We’ll see.”

He groans, standing up from his spot on the floor and falling onto his couch instead, “My asscheeks hurt.”

Your face contorts into a look of disgust, “And you want me to do what with that information?”

Scoffing lightly, he leans back into the cushions and tilts his head back, “It was a declaration, not a cry for help.”

“Yeah, and it’s the bony ass for me.”

His head perks up. “It’s having a flatter ass than their guy best friend for me.”

Gulping down the sad but unequivocal truth, “It’s kissing up to every teacher’s ass for me.”

His eyes narrow in pure chagrin, “It’s the crying on your teacher’s doorstep for them to round your grade for me.”

“It’s splitting your pants on orientation day for me.”

“Fuck you, people would pay to see this ass! It’s getting a concussion from falling down the main hall stairs for me.”

“For fuck’s sake, I told you that they waxed the floors that day!” You snap back.

“Okay, and who said it was a good idea to walk down three flights of stairs while trying to cram for a midterm? Yeah, exactly no one.” He says incisively, giving you an even bigger urge to push him off of the couch, yet you digress.

“This could go on for hours.” You heave out.

“Is that the sound of someone giving up I’m hearing?”

“Is that the sound of a midget I’m hearing?”

“But I’m taller than you?!” He screeches petulantly, smacking your shoulder. You burst out into a fit of laughter—toppling onto the wooden floor with pure malice.

Gasping for air, you attempt to stifle your laughter and regain your breath. “Wow, I’m on a roll today! I deserve another shot.”

He shakes his head, his anger quelling at the sight of your giddiness. “Remind me to not let you drink and play this game.”

You turn over from your side to lay on your back. “This will be the first and the last time I play this game with you.” You say almost immediately—the words involuntarily slipping from your mouth before you could stop it.

He sinks in his spot on the couch, brows knitting at your comment. “Why?”

Sobriety crashes into you like a colossal wave —your irritation dissipates almost immediately. The exaggerated tone your voice begins to register through your head—as well as the fact that you sounded a lot more disapproving than you intended.

Groaning at your hindered ability to think and process properly, you attempt to clear the air, “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. We just... practically know everything about each other I guess. What else is there to know?”

He hums. “You sure about that?”

What? “Wait what?”

“Nothing,” he chuckles awkwardly, “next question.”

The straightforwardness of the next question causes you to quirk a brow, “How are you, really?”

His eyes widen. “Well, that’s a deep one, isn’t it?”

You smile. “A little.”

He sighs, a small grin lacing his features, “Hm, how am I,” he affirms, adjusting himself in his spot on the couch, “I feel content with where I am right now, I guess. Things can always be better, but at the same time they could be worse too.”

Your number one defense mechanism as of late has been to constantly tease and make jokes at the poor guy—essentially using him as your own mental punching bag. He went along with it out of the assumption that it was all caused by your stress from school while you knew the true origins of your behavior.

You smile at his optimism, "Hey, that's always good to hear."

He chuckles, shifting his position on the couch so he could face you directly, "I don't know, maybe it's the new sense of freedom. Or all the amazing people I've gotten to meet and the opportunities that are offered here. Or the fact that I'm still going to the same school as my best friend after all this damn time."

"Chim, don't get sappy on me man." You warn him while pouting exaggeratedly— slumping onto the frame of the couch while he takes a strand of your hair in between his fingers. You bask in the moment, your eyes shutting close.

"Hey, I'm just being honest! For some reason, it all makes up for the impending student debt and draining lectures and professors that have a superiority complex as fat as their paycheck."

"Too bad their paycheck still isn't as fat as your ass."

An audible gasp coming from the only other person in the room causes your eyes to flutter open.

"Aw," he coos, ruffling the hair atop of your head, "that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me all night. Admit it, you love me."

Out of instinct, you opt to stick your tongue at him instead of replying with a witty comeback. You turn away from him before mumbling to yourself, "More than you'll ever know buddy."

"What was that?"

Shit. "Nothing. Next question!"

After twenty questions and a whopping 10 empty soju bottles later, you are quite literally about to implode.

Your eyes stare down at the card in front of you—everything that surrounds it is blurry in vision and you can audibly pinpoint the erratic beating of your heart.

The card was practically taunting you, laughing in your face. It was as if there was a sentient being in the universe who was aware of your own subconscious and the not so latent feelings you had for the boy sitting in front of you. Same said being loved to constantly place you in a state of trepidation concerning your current situation—your blood pressure skyrocketing—nearly feeling the muscular pink thing inside of you thrusting itself against your ribcage.

The imminent headache was starting to spread towards your temples and you practically felt like you could feel your brain shifting inside your head at this point. Although you felt groggy, you were certain that your heart was at a rate that is way faster than it should be. And sitting on your legs has caused them to lose all feeling from the tips of your toes all the way up to your kneecaps. One attempt at standing and you would come crashing to the floor in a heartbeat.

To say you were mad was an understatement. Out of all the times throughout the entirety of this hour and a half that you were playing this game, he decided that now would be the best time to use his 'dig deeper' card.

There it was.

Admit something.

"Okay fine, I was the one who stuck pink hair dye in your shampoo last semester."

"Y/N, did you really think I didn't know? C’mon I know there’s something else in there.”

You scowl, brows furrowing, “Why would I keep something from you?”

“Why are you getting so defensive over this?”

"What the hell is there for me to admit to you?" You snap back in exasperation, the harsh tone of your voice rendering the two of you speechless.

He averts his gaze, closing his eyes while inhaling a deep sigh. "Ever since we started college, why have you been treating me so differently?"

Your eyes widen in disbelief, stumped. Yet you refuse to wither out of this.

"I– are you mad?"

"No. Of course not," he quickly digresses, softening his gaze, "I just noticed after all this time that you've only been acting differently towards me. Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you didn't do anything wrong Jimin. You never have."

His eyes narrow, giving you yet another indecipherable look, "I'm using my 'dig deeper' card." He deadpans.

And so you sat there. Fiddling the card in between your fingers, feigning nonchalance. You were very much on the brink of cracking your facade—your sanity practically crumbling as the minutes ticked by. You didn’t think you’d last this long, to be honest. Yet an hour and a half proved to be way too straining on you in a variety of different ways.

He simply sat there with his hands folded on the table—void of emotion, whistling a familiar top 50s tune you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You considered shifting your focuses on trying to comprehend the tune—hoping it would ease the concerning state of apprehension you were in. But then you assured yourself that you haven't reached that level of patheticism yet.

Even though you both had probably been sitting in complete silence for about two minutes now —practically anyone else could detect was the crickets chirping outside his apartment, yet the only sound that was filling your eardrums was your own conscience telling you how idiotic you were being.

This was it. There was no point in trying to weasel yourself out of this situation. If you tried, your more than futile attempt could very well end up causing more problems than if you were to go with the latter.

So instead of constantly wracking your brain with witty banter and deceitful ways to gaslight your feelings for the man sitting in front of you, you come to terms with the fact that your time had run out. You internally commend yourself for putting up a good fight, as well as internally become accosted at how immature you were at handling the whole situation.

You sharply inhale through your nose, peering at the man sitting in front of you as his eyes meet your own, "Alright."

He offers you a small yet empathetic smile in return, giving you the tiniest sliver of reassurance. His hand pats the couch cushion next to him, motioning for you to sit down next to him.

You push yourself up from the floor, immediately propping a leg onto the couch to avoid your numb limbs to be the cause of your embarrassment.

You inhale slowly through your nose and out through your mouth. "This is going to sound really absurd. Like more than absurd. Possibly borderline hysterical." No Y/N, why would you say that?

He interjects, placing a hand on your forearm. "I'm beginning to think you're becoming borderline hysterical," he lets out a small chuckle, "slow down Y/N. One thought at a time."

Your jaw is still slack open due to your previous rambling. "I'm sorry, I just—I don't think I've ever felt this anxious… around you at least."

He bites his lip, eyes trailing away from yours as he tries to think of a way to aid you, "Will it help if I turn around?

"Maybe." You reply timidly, smiling to yourself as his back came into view.

“It’ll be pretty funny if we don’t remember this in the morning,” you start off with, “I shouldn’t be saying that either I’m sorry. Stupid alcohol.”

He snickers at your drunken state, it was adorable. “Pretend I’m not here Y/N. Like you’re talking to a wall.” He advises, back still turned.

You nod although he can’t see you. “Okay. Well, hi Mr. Wall. I’ve been keeping a secret from my best friend for as long as I’ve known him and I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve suppressed it all this time in hopes that it would eventually fade away, and it almost did. No really, it actually almost did. But now it’s back again and all the same feelings came, but like freaking twofold. No, tenfold. No, like a hundred fucking fold.”

Jimin tries excruciatingly hard to stifle his laughter, cupping a hand to his mouth so he wouldn’t move and distract you.

“I’m literally in love with my freaking best friend when I know he doesn’t see me in that light nor will he ever. If he did, we wouldn’t be where we are right now because I am so shitty at hiding my feelings that I am more than certain that I’ve let the truth slip a couple of times.” You say all in one breath.

He slowly detaches his hand from his mouth, eyebrows raising in disbelief in the words you had just said. His body urges him to turn around. Yet you continue to think out loud. So he digresses.

“Towards the end of high school, I think my feelings started to become more dormant because I had become more concerned over finishing high school and transitioning into college. I was content and I convinced myself that my feelings were fleeting for once.” You begin with, allowing whatever thoughts that you consumed your mind to spill all out for Mr. Wall to hear.

You sigh, taking a pillow from his couch and squeezing onto it for dear life. “That was until we ended up getting into our top picks and going to the same school. I couldn’t believe it. My stupid head tried to convince me that life had always just paired the two of us up together for some reason. And that maybe, just maybe I had a chance. But whatever I guess. I don’t know.”

A notification causes your eyes to trail to your phone. Really, Professor La, this is not a good time to tell me to finish my research paper. You swipe at the notification, revealing your lock screen—a photo of you and Jimin at an amusement park back at your hometown, sporting matching university hoodies with bright smiles on your faces that were captured mid-laughter.

Setting your phone down, you lean into the couch—letting your head fall into the cushions as your eyelids slowly start to droop shut. “What also didn’t help is how college life just seems to suit him perfectly. He just always looks so happy now. Like yeah, he’s always been a social butterfly. Yet in addition to that he has top notch grades. He charms professors. For fuck’s sake the Dean treats him like a son. His passion, his laughter, his love, his happiness. It’s always been so infectious. But college just made the effect he has on people grow even stronger. I-,” you stammer, pausing breathlessly, “it just looks like he truly belongs here. Like college was just made for him.”

He sits there in a complete stupor—still trying to process all the words that he had just heard. His body is itching to turn around, take you into his arms, whisper soft nothings into your ear. Anythings. Everything. He never wanted you to feel anxious about his feelings for you ever again.

“Mr. Wall, that was a lot, I’m sorry. But I’m really… really tired.” You utter quietly, a long yawn escaping your lips. You fall asleep.

Ten seconds pass until Jimin sneaks a glance over his shoulder, scanning your body as he notices your shut eyes and timid grip on his pillow.

“Y/N?”

You’re unresponsive.

He grins at the sight. Getting up from his seat, he makes his way toward you—slowly prying the pillow from your grasp as you carefully slides his hands under your body and picks you up from the couch.

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder as he carries you to his bedroom. You are very much still asleep, yet you always had the habit of needing something to hold onto while you were unconscious.

Kicking the sheets aside, he makes room for you to lie down as he gently places you onto his bed. He quickly scurries to the other side, slipping into the covers himself as he lays down beside you.

The sudden contact causes you to shift in your sleep—suddenly wrapping an arm around his torso. He lays there, completely stunned at your actions and begins to heavily debate whether he should give into his desires or not.

The internal conflict lasts about two seconds before he turns to his side—placing his free hand on the small of your back and pulling you into his chest, leaving a small pocket of space in between your two bodies.

Unknowingly, you close the gap almost immediately—nestling your head into the crook of his neck as your arm that was lazily slung over his torso starts to tighten its hold around his body.

His arm slings over your unconscious form, his hands making his way to your back as he basks in the foreign feeling, being this close in proximity to you. It was different. Yet it almost felt like it was where he belonged. And he was scared because he didn’t want it to end.

While gently placing his chin on the top of your head, he begins to stroke your hair as fatigue starts to wash over him as well. “Things will make sense soon Y/N, I swear.”

He retracts, craning his neck in an attempt to see your sleeping form. His attempt proves to be futile when an indecipherable groan leaves your lips—brows knitting slightly and lips curling downward from the sudden lack of warmth.

His soft laughter fills the room as he obliges—carefully pressing a small kiss to your forehead before reverting back to his original position.

“For now, just know that I love you too.”

The intolerable throbbing sensation in your temples caused you to stir in your sleep.

The only events you could recall from last night was being at Jimin’s apartment, playing that stupid card game, and downing the most soju you’ve ever had in one sitting.

It only occurs to you that you’re wrapped in someone’s arms when you open your eyes and the only thing in your periphery is a firm chest, steadily heaving each time they take a breath.

Your legs were messily entangled with theirs—arms slung around each other’s torsos as you felt a strange yet dense weight on the top of your head.

Carefully, you try to pry yourself from their grasp albeit your haphazard state of mind. You pull back ever so slightly, making sure not to wake them up in the process, discovering that the excess weight was actually their chin that had been resting on top of your head. Their fingers were still twined in your hair as you pulled back, making you freeze in your spot. Curious, you tilt your head, peering upwards and catching a glimpse of their face.

The boy is undoubtedly still asleep. Eyes shut and ample lips slightly parted. Your timid movement, to your luck, which hadn’t phased him in the slightest, as he was unperceptive and nearly immobile at this point.

If it weren't for your abhorrent headache and the even more abhorrent symptoms that had rooted from your hangover, it would be an understatement to say that you would be freaking out right about now. In reality,

You'd be in a complete state of manic.

Because of the fact that your body was paying for the despicable amount of alcohol you had decided to consume the night before, an influx of any intense emotion would cause your body to exacerbate itself even more. And the last thing you needed was to puke all over the poor guy after sleeping together for the first time.

While you were physically experiencing withdrawals, your mind felt slightly inebriated nonetheless. You weren't quite sure if it was from last night's affluence of liquor or the way everything's starting to come back to you. And the longer your eyes linger on the boy's face, the clearer everything starts to become. From the foolish banter to your childish outbursts leading up to your intoxicated yet conscientious confession.

You left your heart all out for him to witness last night, and now the only thing you could do is wait for a response.

Taking a deep sigh, you retreat back to his body—deciding not to ponder any longer on the matter and wait until you had felt physically capable of doing so.

Steaming hot streams of water splash against his back. He stands under the shower head while massaging soap into his hair, replaying the events that had happened last night on loop.

The words that left your mouth were engraved into his mind as they involuntarily kept replaying over and over again—particularly your inebriated confession, which kept garnering the same reaction of both hope and frustration within him.

The solution should be simple. In reality it is, yet he still felt so internally scattered.

“—he doesn’t see me in that light nor will he ever...”

That was the singular line that he just couldn’t wrap his head around. There was never a moment where he would hesitate to drop everything he was doing to be there for you and make sure you were okay.

Yes, he knew that you two were best friends and that it was natural. But what best friend drives across town at 2am because you had the stomach flu and your parents were out of town. Keep in mind it was his mom’s birthday that day.

What best friend ditches their prom date when yours had stood you up. Or coax the drama teacher into giving you the lead in the school play because he saw the ways your eyes glimmered when you saw the words ‘High School Musical’. And damn, weren’t you justthe greatest Gabriella he’s ever seen.

Little did you know that in reality, he always wanted you to be the Gabriella to his Troy, and not Chad. Yet you seemed to have believed the latter all along.

But in the end, what the hell kind of best friend remains oblivious to the fact that for years, past exes have consistently broken up with him for the same reason.

“Your heart belongs to someone else.”

Or alternatively,

“I’m not the right person for you.”

Straight A’s don’t mean shit when no teacher has ever taught him how to realize that he was irrevocably in love with his best friend, and that she had always, almost candidly, felt the same way.

He shuts his eyes tightly, hands aggressively running through his soaked hair as he comes to a conclusion.

Being strangers could never be an option. Being friends, or moreso, best friends was fine. But that’s it. It was just fine. It was normalcy. It has been for years.

And that just wasn’t going to cut it for him anymore.

Your arm traces along the fabric of the bedsheets, alerting you that there was a void of space and lack of warmth from the other side of the bed. Your eyes spring open to see that there was no one laying beside you.

A long yawn escapes your lips as you stretch your limbs, body sprawling all over the bed before selfishly tugging the sheets all to yourself.

Soft hissing from which you assume was coming from his shower was confirmed to be true when your eyes spot the closed bathroom door and the small beam of light that was emitting from it.

A small, folded piece of paper that was taking up the space of where his head was resting was where your eyes shift to next.

y/n <3

You knit your brows together, knowing that it was most likely put there strategically rather than a piece of trash that had slipped out of his pocket.

It was addressed to you after all and so you grab it while making a futile attempt to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Your throbbing headache and churning insides had significantly died down. Regardless of your recovery time you internally make a promise to yourself to never get this wasted ever again. The chances of you sticking to it? Highly debatable considering the current situation you’re in.

Blinking rapidly, you finally are able to decipher whatever is written onto the paper. And it says:

hi y/n, i can already tell by the looks that you’re giving me that you already despise this game and im sorry. all i wanna say is that by the time you read this, i hope that we remain close as ever even though what i plan on saying tonight could obliterate all of that. i wanted to play this game bc i know we’re both hiding stuff from each other and it’s about time we get it out. at least for me. whatever happens, i love you. always will.

- chim :)

EDIT: for fuck’s sake y/n i’m FUCKING IN LOVE WITH YOU TOO I WAS SUPPOSED TO CONFESS TO U FIRST LOSER NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND T-T

“Finally awake?” You hear a familiar voice call out. He walks out of the bathroom, fully clothed (to your dismay) while drying his hair with a towel, eyes immediately softening as they connect with yours.

You swallow down your nerves, “Yeah, I’ve been.”

He walks over to the edge of the bed, eyes shifting to the piece of paper in your hand before reverting his focus back to your face, “What are you reading there?”

“I don’t know,” you huff, feigning ignorance, “why don’t you tell me.”

A soft chortle leaves his lips as he throws the towel to the side, smiling as wide as ever as he jumps onto the vacant spot on his bed right next to you.

Propping himself up, he sits against the headboard, letting out a content sigh before looking down at you once more. “Come here.” He says, reaching his arms out in hopes that you’d fill the idle gap.

And you do, shaking the sheets off of your body as you place yourself in his arms, freshly revelling in the comfort. You wrap your arms snugly around his waist, letting your head rest on his chest while he clutches onto you tightly.

“I’m sorry for pushing the subject so hard onto you last night.” He starts off with, “I guess I just never fathomed the fact that you could return the feeling, and I was too stubborn to even admit it to you in the first place.” He expresses while stroking your back, “I didn’t mean to confront you so harshly, it’s unlike me, and I’m really sorry about it Y/N.”

“Do you think I’m mad about that Jimin?” You inquire, just barely above a whisper.

He pulls back slightly, peering down at you, “Are you?”

“Of course not. I should be the one apologizing anyways for being even more stubborn and resorting to such childish ways.” You disclose whilst mentally beating yourself up.

“Hey, there’s no use in beating ourselves up over it. Look where we are now.”

“Where exactly are we Jimin?” You inquire timidly, head still resting on his chest.

His fingers brush over the base of your chin, gently tilting your head up until your eyes found his.

“Y/N, it’s honestly hard for me to formulate the words but all I know is that I think I’m in love with you. And I think I have been for a long time, no scratch that, I have been for a long time,” he says all in one breath, making you smile at how high-strung he was acting.

The grin remains plastered onto your face, “I’m not drunk still right because did I just hear you say that you’ve been in love with me?”

“Y/N…” he whines, jutting out his bottom lip as he drags out the last syllable of your name.

You can’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Go on please.”

He bites his lip, “I honestly had a whole speech prepared in the shower but I forgot all of it.”

“It’s alright, I barely remember half the stuff I spewed out last night,” you chortle.

He chuckles, “Well, if you were wondering, you’re cute as fuck when you’re piss drunk.”

The compliment makes your breath hitch in your throat—your heart starting to pick up speed dangerously quick.

A few seconds pass, allowing you to slightly gain back some of your composure, “Why did you um– I mean– when do you think you fell in love with me?” You stutter.

“I was actually trying to figure that out too,” he starts, “in the shower. Well, this is going to sound dumb,” he admits, sharply exhaling out of his nose, “But do you remember when we went on a field trip to that amusement park in 8th grade? Around halloween time.”

“I think so… but what about it?”

He nods. “I still remember that night so vividly for some reason,” he pauses, collecting his thoughts, “There were haunted houses all over the park. And they were all different themes. And I think the first one we went into together was—”

“The clown one.” You deadpan.

“Yeah!” He beams, laughing at the way you shudder after your words, “Anyways, you were walking behind me with your hands on my shoulders, but you had a razor grip and I thought my arms were going to fall off, so I made you walk next to me instead. We had our arms interlocked and you were gripping onto me so closely and you had your head buried in my shoulder the whole time.” He explains, the smile never ceasing to leave his lips.

You don’t take his eyes off of him—smiling sweetly as he explains the retrospective moment that you never knew had held so much significance to him.

“All of a sudden, you grabbed my hand, and honestly, I think that was the scariest part of the whole experience,” he admits, chuckling softly.

“But then I intertwined fingers with you. And I liked it. Thinking about it now, I probably loved it. It felt almost borderline euphoric. Like as if I was riding a high, and when we detached hands, it felt like there was just something missing. And I guess I never really put the pieces together because it just became a normal thing after that. And when our skinship kept evolving from there, I just kept dismissing it over and over again. Like as if that feeling was a normal thing to happen between friends, because I genuinely thought it was. Yeah, I think that’s the moment I pretty much fell in love with you.” He finishes, giving you a close-mouthed smile while he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Astounded was an understatement. You couldn’t believe that you both had been suppressing these feelings for so long. Yet somehow, this whole confession didn’t seem out of place or time, it was as if everything that had happened beforehand had led up to this very moment.

“Wow, Jimin I– I don’t know what to say.” You reply.

He shakes his head. “You don’t have to say anything Y/N. I’m sorry for making you wait for so long, after all.”

You interject, “Please don’t say sorry, I think we were definitely both in the wrong here.”

He smiles, except this time his eyes crinkle up all the way, “Alright, but can you at least let me make it up to you?”

“I’m listening.” You jokingly reply.

“Let’s go on a date,” he declares brazenly, “but tonight, after we’ve recovered from our hangovers and what not.”

The corners of your lips upturn so high that your cheekbones sting, “Jimin, I’d love to–”

“Ah, wait! I’m not done.” He cuts you off, head inching forward, leaning in so close that you could feel his breath tickle your ear and the heat rushing up to your cheeks.

“And at the very end of the night, I’ll make certain that you won’t be able to walk normally by tomorrow.” He whispers into your ear— voice low and full of lust.

Shivers run through your body as it feels like all the wind had just gotten knocked out of you. Yeah, this was definitely worth the wait.

MASTERLIST ; SEQUEL

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thedeathdeelers · 4 years ago

Text

Juke fluff, right this way (based on this post)

you’re music to me (now on AO3)

“So, how come you guys are always here?”

Julie was staring down at her latest doodle, contemplating adding some more purple to bring out the details, when the question popped into her head. She had been wondering for a while now why the boys weren’t using more of their supernatural ghostly powers to their advantage, and figured that now was as good a time as any to ask.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and both Reggie and Alex had disappeared off to wherever they liked to spend their free time. Whenever they weren’t practicing, the boys usually found ways to entertain themselves, mostly at the expense of the other members of the Molina family.

Luke on the other hand, could usually be found either in the studio cooped up writing new lyrics, or hanging out with Julie in her bedroom (although even then, he would still have his notebook on him, jotting down words and melodies as inspiration struck), as was the current case.

Julie and Luke were sitting cross legged across each other on Julie’s bed; Julie doodling on a school notebook, and Luke working on a particularly difficult bridge for a new song they were hoping to premiere at their next gig in a few weeks.

So when Julie had asked Luke her question and she wasn’t directly met with an answer, she had just figured that he was busy writing down new ideas in his song book. But when the silence stretched longer than was usual for Luke, Julie finally looked up and noticed him staring at her with an odd expression on his face.

“What? Did I say something? What’s wrong?”

“Do you- do you want m- us to leave? I- I mean we thought you were fine with us living here, what with the band picking up and- But of course, if you want us to leave, that’s completely fine. The boys’ll understand and-“

“No! No that’s not what I meant at all!” Julie’s eyes got incredibly large, as she realised how her words must have been perceived. She frantically shook her head, her ponytail whipping at her cheeks with the movement, as her hands, covered in smudges of colourful ink reached out to rest on his knees.

“No, Luke. Of course I don’t mind you guys staying here - I really do like- love having you guys around. I just meant- I mean you guys can literally teleport anywhere, do anything, and not have to worry about getting caught. But as far as I can tell, you guys just hang around here all the time, or meet up with Willie every now and then at some random celebrity’s house.” Julie pulled her hands back in her lap, shrugging. “I don’t know, I guess I was just wondering why?”

She could see him visibly deflating, the odd expression on his face having morphed into a more composed look. He let out a breath, tapping his pen loudly against the pages in front of him with one hand, while the other rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Yeah, we- I mean we just haven’t felt the need to do anything else, I guess? When we first got here, we explored all of our old haunts,” insert smirk here, “checked out some of the new music that’s been taking over the scene - we even went to a few concerts.” He shrugged, his hand coming back down to rest on his knee. “But nothing’s really pulled at us enough to seriously want to leave for any extended period of time.”

She found that quite strange. Here she was talking to the boy who told her that their instruments were attached to their souls, and he was simply shrugging at the idea of being able to go to any concert anywhere, for free, without any consequences.

“You’re telling me you’re not even interested in checking out some of the older bands you guys were really into? Attend some of the concerts you always wanted to go to but couldn’t because they were on the other side of the country? Of the world?” She could hear how dubious she was starting to sound, but she couldn’t help it. None of this made sense.

Luke tilted his head to the side as he looked at Julie with a look that made it seem she was missing the obvious.

“But you wouldn’t be able to come with us? Where would the fun be in that?” He smiled at her, a small glint in his eyes. She rolled hers at him in return.

“Ha ha, very funny. Seriously, Luke, aren’t you, for lack of a better word, dying to go see certain people, certain bands, live? For free?”

He shrugged again, seeming unbothered by her line of questioning.

“Not really. I haven’t really felt any pull to check out new music in a while. I’ve been more excited about the stuff we’ve been making anyway.” He paused, playfully tapping her knee. “Plus I’m not sure I’d be able to properly enjoy a concert if I knew you couldn’t be there. Not as fun.”

She stared at him, wondering if his sanity had been touched.

“Not as fun? Really? I hope you realise you’re not making any sense. You know damn well that having Reggie with you alone would be enough. He’s the life of every party, dead or alive.”

She heard him snort, his head bending back down as he prepared to refocus his attention on the song book in his lap.

“I don’t know, Julie. It’s hard to explain. I just-“ He stopped himself mid-sentence, suddenly seeming to be too engrossed by the words on the pages in front of him. Only she knew better.

She put her notebook aside, and crawled across the tiny space between them, coming to rest on her folded knees right in front of him. She put her hands on his, stilling the tapping of the pen, and covering the words on the pages. She patiently waited for him to finally look up, focusing his attention back on her.

“Luke, you know I’d never hold it against any of you guys if you were to go and have fun without me. You guys deserve it - all you do is hang around here, unless we’re playing a gig somewhere. You should be enjoying your afterlife, not spending it constantly practicing or writing new songs or worrying about our next gig. Live a little!” He was frowning throughout her speech, but she could see the corners of his lips twitching a little at her choice of words.

He stayed quiet though, just staring at her, his eyes searching for something on her face. What it was he was looking for, she couldn’t tell you.

But after a few minutes of silence, he took a deep breath, tilting his head backwards as he closed his eyes, his hands twisting around, threading his fingers through hers.

“It’s not that I- that we would feel guilty, Jules. We’re happy with the way things are here. And to tell you the truth, I haven’t really felt the need to look for new music for a while now - what we create, you and me and the boys, it keeps changing and shifting and surprising me everyday.” He sighs, bringing his face back down, his eyes opening as they centred back on hers. In a softer tone, he continued. “Why would I go looking for something else, when everything I need is right here?”

She had a feeling he wasn’t just talking about music anymore.

“Why would I want to go searching for something else Jules, when I’ve already found the best? Something that I have right here, right under my fingertips?” He let go of her hands as he reached for her face, hers falling limply into his lap. His fingers brushed her cheeks lightly, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, before they settled under her jaw, cradling her face in his palms. She couldn’t speak even if she wanted to.

“I have no desire whatsoever to go to concerts or look for new music, new talent, when you literally live under the same roof as I do.” His thumbs caressed her cheeks, his face moving closer to hers.

“You are music to me, Julie. As long as you’re in my life, my afterlife, whatever you want to call it, I see no reason in looking for anything, or anyone, else.”

He closed the distance between them, his forehead coming to rest against hers. She could do nothing but stare up at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open, her mind furiously trying to process Luke’s words.

You are music to me, Julie.

Her heart was beating so quickly, so loudly, it felt like it was about to burst out of her chest and take flight. She tried to focus on her breathing, taking deep breaths to center herself, before she gave up and threw herself into the stunned ghost’s lap. She wrapped her arms around him, and pressed her face into the crook of his neck. With the shock of the impact, Luke lost his balance, sending both teenagers tumbling backwards onto the bed. But even then, all Julie did was press herself closer against Luke, hoping he wouldn’t try to pull away.

To her delight all he did was readjust their position, tucking her head under his chin as he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tighter against him.

“What did I do to deserve such enthusiasm?” He chuckled, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Julie just shook her head, her lips moving against his neck. She felt him shiver beneath her, causing her lips to tilt upwards.

They remained in this position for a while, Luke rubbing her back, as Julie continued to breathe in his scent, enjoying this quiet intimate moment with him for as long as possible.

But then she felt Luke shift as he turned to his side, her head softly hitting the mattress beneath her. With their legs still tangled, and her arms still securely wrapped around him, she looked up at him, his face hovering a few inches above hers.

“I just want to try something,” was all he said.

And with that he moved down until his head cane to rest against her chest. His arms snaked around her waist, as he pressed his ear closer to where her heart was currently beating a mile a minute.

With a loud sigh, Luke stilled, remaining in that position. Julie tried to stay quiet, tried to keep her curiosity at bay, but she simply couldn’t.

“Luke, what are you doing? I mean, not that I mind but, is there a reason you moved?” She tugged lightly at his hair, her fingers finding refuge in his soft brown locks.

She could feel him shake his head under her fingers, as he quietly started to hum a melody she couldn’t recognise. His fingers then joined in, tapping along to an unknown beat on her waist. She shifted her head to the side, craning her neck trying to get a glimpse of Luke’s expression.

She could see a smile making an appearance on his face, and could swear she could feel his touch getting warmer, see light emanating from his every pore.

“Luke?”

A beat of silence. He opened his eyes, as he looked at her with a tender look and the softest smile gracing his lips.

“I’m just listening to my favourite song.”

“Oh? What favourite song? I heard you humming it, but I’m not sure I recognised it?”

“No, no. I wasn’t humming the song, I was just adding a little melody as an accompanying piece.”

Julie was thoroughly confused. “I don’t get it. Accompanying piece to what?”

“To my favourite song silly, I already told you. It’s more of a beat, really, but when I’m listening to it I swear I can hear the sweetest sounds in my head.”

When Julie still didn’t understand what in the world he was talking about, that frustrated look refusing to leave her face, Luke took pity on her as he started tapping out the beat on her waist again, demonstrating to her what he meant.

It took her a little while, but once she focused, she realised he was tapping along to her heartbeat. It stuttered at her realisation, and Luke’s fingers followed, not missing a beat.

Oh. Oh.

Her hands tightened their hold on his head as she tugged harder, guiding him back up towards her. She couldn’t hold it in anymore, refused to hold it in anymore. Once he was at her eye level, close enough she could feel his breath on her lips, she whispered-

“I love you.”

The brightest smile she had ever seen took over Luke’s face, his eyes shining as they competed against the brightness of his smile. His hands reached up, cradling her face again as he whispered back against her lips:

“You are music to me now, you are music to me forever.”

Forever. She liked the sound of that. If she could somehow manage to keep him for that long, it might just be enough.

FIN

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fic #juke #juke fic #my fics #fluff #so much fluff #it’s ridiculous #luke patterson #julie molina #julie x luke #thedeathdeelers fics

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stellar-lune · 4 years ago

Text

*KOTLC incorrect quotes*

Anyways, a long list of incorrect KOTLC quotes, feel free to use these for anything if ya want!

Glimmer: Arson? Oh, you mean "crime brûlée".

Fitz: Oh, so when crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, its “intelligent” and “really cool”.

Fitz: But when I do it, I’m “petty” and “need to let it go”.

Keefe, holding up his class notes: And then this doodle of a burrito because when I first read Aristotle, I thought it was pronounced like “Chipotle”.

Marella, in shock: Wait a minute, is it “Chip-o-tottle”?

Sophie: I wasn't hurt that badly. Elwin said all my bleeding was internal, that's where the blood's supposed to be!

Police Officer: You have the right to remain silent.

Marella: I choose to waive that right!

Marella: *screaming*

Brant (whoops sorry bout this one): Do not come over to my house. If the house is on fire you may knock once, if I don’t answer assume I set the fire and I want to burn to death.

Sophie: I would never say that my best friend is a bitch and I don’t like her. That’s not true… Biana is a bitch and I like her very much!

Lex, Bex, Rex: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

Keefe on Tuesday: *glues a dime to the sidewalk* Heh heh heh.

Keefe on Wednesday: *walking down the street* Ooh hey! A dime!

Forkman, to the squad: And remember, if I get harsh with you it is only because you’re doing it all wrong.

Keefe, tearing up the room: Where are they?

Keefe, looking under a pillow: Who moved them? Who moved my children?

Keefe: Somebody moved my E.L. Fudges, and now I am going to run away again.

Tam: Your existence is confusing.

Keefe: How so?

Tam: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to you upsets me.

Sophie: I have one foot in the grave but in a kind of fun flirty way, the way one might slip on a fishnet stocking.

Linh: I've never encountered a problem that can't be solved by an spontaneous musical number.

Dex: Dracula had it right, sleep all day, live alone in a castle, and explode into bats to get out of all social situations.

Sophie: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor and it isn't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities.

Sophie, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win you should have tried not being poor.

Dex, to Stina: If karma doesn't hit you, I fucking will.

Sophie: My life isn't as glamourous as my wanted poster makes it look.

Dex: If I'm extra sarcastic with you it probably means I'm flirting with you or you really annoy me and I can't handle your crap... have fun figuring out which one, Wonderboy.

Marella: As someone who has a long history of not understanding anything, I feel confident in my ability to continue not knowing what is going on.

Fitz: I'm a firm believer in "if you're going to fail, you might as well fail spectacularly."

*out grocery shopping*

Linh: *takes a free sample twice*

Linh: Robbery and fraud. I am a Rebel (TM) .

Sophie: Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices.

Sophie: Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time.

Sophie: Does anyone know how to relax? Asking for a friend.

Demon: Hey, I took your soul last month and-

Tam: No returns.

Demon: *sobbing* But it's making me sad...

Dex: So, according to my university, it is, quote, “my responsibility if there is an internet outage to contact the faculty and the department.”

Dex: Now, if you’re a critical thinker like me, you might be wondering one thing.

Dex: HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO EMAIL THE DEPARTMENT?!?!?!

Tam: Hey, what’s the name of the other guy who lives with Tiergan?

Linh: His cats' names are Walter and Rose.

Tam: That's not what I asked.

Linh: That is all the information I have.

Keefe: Ro, remember when you said you weren’t going to interfere with my love life?

Ro: No, that doesn’t sound like me at all.

(alternatively, Alden)

Linh: Ayo, what the FUCK is this?!?

Tam, sitting down, surrounded by corpses: I won Mafia, that’s what.

Marella: I'd roast you, but my mom says you can't burn trash.

Marella: *slow-mo walks out of the room*

Biana: I'm gonna get my piolet's license. I've already got a driver's license and a cosmetology license, that's two of the big five licenses.

Fitz: The big five licenses?

Biana: Driver's license, cosmetology license, pilot's license, fishing license, and… license to kill! I can't wait to get that one.

Dex: You are irrationally angry 365 days a year.

Fitz: Well, that’s just your personal opinion, I don’t have anger issues. Biana, do you think I have anger issues?

Biana: Well, I wouldn’t really call it an issue. An issue is something you can fix.

Keefe: So how’s the food Sophie made?

Fitz: It's great! Compliments to her.

Keefe: *goes to the kitchen*

Keefe: You're adorable.

Sophie: *blushes*

Biana: And now for a gay update with Linh and Marella.

Marella: Getting gayer.

Biana: Thank you, Marella.

Sophie: Hey, do you know the password to Keefe’s computer?

Biana: I love you, Sophie.

Sophie: Aww, that’s so swe—

Biana: No, you misunderstood, the password is "iloveyouSophie".

Sophie: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.

Fitz: Hey, Biana, are you free on Friday? Like around eight?

Biana: Yeah.

Fitz: And you, Tam?

Tam: Umm... yes?

Fitz: Great! Because I'm not. You two go out without me. Enjoy your date!

Biana: Did he just-

Sophie: Do you cook?

Biana: I made a cake once.

Fitz: Yeah, it was good.

Biana: Really?

Fitz: Don’t make me lie twice, Biana.

Dex: Nice rock.

Keefe: Thanks, Tam gave it to me.

Tam: I threw it at you!

Keefe: Isn’t he the sweetest?

Juline: I just had a long talk with the triplets about hitting and now they are yelling “it’s my turn to perpetuate the cycle of violence” before hitting each other.

Sophie: I made you all playlists!

Sophie: Tam, yours has only heavy metal and punk, and is dark like your soul.

Sophie: Keefe, yours has sad songs and blues to pair with your crippling depression.

Sophie: And Biana has the ABBA Gold album.

Fitz: A pessimist sees a dark tunnel.

Biana: An optimist sees light at the end of the tunnel.

Dex: A realist sees a freight train.

Tam: The train driver sees three idiots standing on train tracks.

Mr. Forkle: For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.

Biana, Keefe, & Sophie: Okay.

Mr. Forkle: If you don't want to die, give me all your money.

Biana: Bold of you to assume I have money.

Keefe: Bold of you to assume I don't want to die.

Sophie: Bold of you to assume I can die.

Sophie: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco.

Keefe: My life is a little too much fall and not enough boy.

Dex: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance.

Marella: My life is a little too much imagination and not nearly enough dragons.

Biana: What’s it like being tall?

Marella: Is it nice?

Sophie: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Fitz: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Stina: You have friends and I envy that.

Marella: You're welcome to share my friends.

Stina: *looks at Dex and Sophie*

Stina: I don't want those.

Della: Tommorrow's garbage day.

Fitz: I can't believe you made a whole day dedicated to Alvar.

Linh: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it.

Tam: I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out.

Linh: Th-that's not how that works-

Marella: Do you want to know your gay name?

Linh: My... my gay name?

Marella: Yeah, it's your first name-

Linh: Haha. Very funny Marella-

Marella: *gets down on one knee* And my last name.

Linh: Oh- oh my god.

Glimmer: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go.

The Black Swan: Those are wanted posters!

Biana: Are you mad?

Tam: No.

Biana: So sharpening your knives at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

Keefe: Astrology is fun because i can pretend that all of my behaviors are just a result of being a Gemini and not symptoms of mental illness.

Biana: Being a Gemini is a mental illness. That’s not hate it’s just a fact.

Biana: *on the phone* Hey Fitz, do you know my blood type?

Fitz: Of course, it's A+.

Biana: Oh, I guessed wrong. Excuse me, nurse-!

Fitz, to Sophie: Are you ready to commit?

Sophie: Like, a crime or a relationship?

Literally Anyone: Hey, aren’t you Sophie Foster?

Sophie: You a Councillor?

Literally Anyone: No.

Sophie: Then yes, I am.

Sophie: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway.

Stina:

Sophie: Vroom vroom, come out already.

Stina: I’m gay—

Sophie: Not what I meant, but cool.

Keefe: Remember that time you dared me to lick a swingset?

Sophie: No, I said "Keefe, don't lick that swingset" and you said "Don't tell me what to do" and licked the swingset.

Mr. Forkle: I’m not so sure you’re stakeout material.

Sophie: I’m a chronic insomniac, I was born for this.

Juline: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously.

Marella: *gets set on fire and screams in agony*

Marella: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me.

Biana: Maybe the true treasure was friendship all along. But I hope not, because I can’t spend friendship on new clothes

Dex: Do you want to play 20 Questions?

Fitz: Sure!

Fitz: Whats your favorite color?

Dex, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Do you like men?

#kotlc shitpost #kotlc incorrect quotes #kotlc memes #kotlc sophie #kotlc dex #kotlc fitz #kotlc marella #kotlc linh #kotlc biana #kotlc tam #kotlc glimmer #kotlc black swan #kotlc neverseen

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gra-sonas · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! I hate to ask this, you already do so much for us! But would you mind just a tiny recap of Vlamis’ live from last night? You don’t have to go into a ton of detail or anything, I just saw that it was a half hour long. I have a weird anxiety thing that keeps me from watching lives and stories for the most. Still haven’t even been able to work myself up to watching the vlamburn one as much as I’d love to! 🙁

Either way, thank you for everything!

Okay, nonnie. I went and watched the whole thing again and wrote you a detailed account of what’s been said. I’ll link the live again, then you can watch here if you want to. Or not. Up to you. 🤗 Hope this helps. 💕

youtube

Brushing his teeth and flossing for 3 minutes while talking.

800 new follower lately “where have you been before?”

“Do you do anything to your hair at night?” He adds Moroccan hair oil in the morning, nothing at night.

“What’s your favorite of the drop?” He hasn’t seen everything from the drop (like the COSMIC tie-dye) bc he’s in Santa Fe. He loves the COSMIC and MALEX embroidered things (“so subtle”) bc they are in Vlamburn’s handwriting, he loves the Manesqueeze shirt bc you can make Alex and Michael kiss by putting your wrists together. He *loves* the candle (there’s one burning on his bedside table), the silky PJs are great, but he can’t decide on just one favorite thing.

“How’s Jesa’s sanity?” She needs like 3 weeks of sleep. He explains, that while we *are* the Vlambase, the Vlambase merch company’s just Jesa and Vlamis. Jesa has a team, but all the day-to-day things, ideas, emails/customer service (Jesa), the newsletter (Vlamis). They hadn’t collaborated with anyone before Tyler, so working with him was a new experience.

One fan mentions how they wanted to buy stuff but couldn’t. Vlamis says that he’s been there, and when he wanted something in the past he couldn’t afford, he started putting away a Dollar a day.

“Thought on One Direction?” Vlamis is a Harry Styles guy. “Harry Styles’ swagger is next level!”

“What do you think about Russia? Will Vlambase merch be available here?” Talks a bit about how annoying things are with shipping companies, says they wanted to protect themselves for the holidays, and now that the Christmas rush is over, some shipping options have become available again.

“Who came up with MANESQUEEZE” He ponders about it, and settles on Jesa. It was Vlamis’s ides to put tiny Alex and tiny Michael on the sleeves so that they can kiss tho. And Tyler came up with the idea to put a “toupee” on his head (in a previous drop, the NEVER LOOK AWAY design had tiny Alex and tiny Michael on the sleeves, but poor Alex was bald) for the design.

Someone got a MALEX pin and the candle. He knows the pin sold out fast, and he feels bad about that. They want everyone to get everything they want, but it’s difficult to make proper calculations how well an item will sell. The pandemic made things even harder. Like the PJ sets. Normally, they would wait until the sale ends and see how many sets were actually ordered, but during the pandemic, stock listings have been changing dramatically from day to day, so they had to pre-order the PJs and robes to make sure they had a certain number at their disposal. He said that they “overshot” on a couple of things, but ultimately sales have been great, and he appreciates that.

“I’m excited to make the MANESQUEEZE doodles kiss bc I do that with the NEVER LOOK AWAY shirt” Vlamis jumps up and shows his closet that’s full of Vlambase merch items.

“Why am I here, it’s almost 3am” He mentions that he’s been staying up until 4 in the past couple of days, but he has to be on set in 7 or 8 hours.

“Hello, just wanted to let you know that I got a tattoo for you” Vlamis asks for a photo and to be tagged.

“Kyle the packer [Vlamis’s roomie KA, who works in the warehouse when a new drop is ready for shipping]” Vlamis says they’re working him to death.

“Please save this live” He doesn’t know whether he’ll save it. Thinks the one with Tyler was important, but since it’s just him, he doesn’t think it’s important.

“I followed Jesa, Jesa is the real MVP” Vlamis says that Jesa is “a beast, and best in the game”. Quickly explains who Jesa is, and that she’s his partner in the Vlambase merch company. He mentions that she recently called him with an idea for Valentine’s Day, and he was like “Jesa, we need to relax!” But she loved the idea. She’s a big fan of RNM and the characters (and Tyler). “Jesa’s amazing.”

“What about new Soli art [Soli’s the artist who created the Boys Will Be Boys art for a previous drop]?” Vlamis smiles. “What about new Soli art. I like that idea. 😏“

“Your house [in New Mexico] is so cute.” Vlamis says thank you and shows the ceiling of the house (which he likes best). “Santa Fe is dope!”

“I adore your teeth” *shows his teeth* Says he had to wear braces (some even adjustable)

“I could’ve used my birthday money to buy something but I forgot” 🤨 << Vlamis’s face. “How you you forget, man?”

“Back to Twitter after this live” He mentions that he’d just been on Twitter before the live.

He got retweeted by Mountain Dew and loves it.

“I’m from Australia and hope my merch arrives before winter” Vlamis says he hopes shipping will be fast.

“Love the Valentines” They’re not actually Valentines, hence they’re “Love Notes”. Vlamis considers doing them not just around Valentine’s Day.

“You catch any of the CW shows returning this month?” “Might have to” But he knows what he’ll be catching on the 12th. “Prodigal Son, baby!”

“Where did you get the Game Boys?” Those are his Game Boys. He has a Game Boy Advanced and a Game Boy Color.

“How do you feel about Forlex?” *scoffs* 😒 “Yeah”

“So excited for the robe!” Vlamis gets excited. “The robes and the PJs are so comfy!” Talks about how it’s a bit weird, bc they don’t make them themselves.

Several people mention that their closet looks like his closet bc of all the merch and he loves that.

“How do you feel about Forlex” *gets agitated* “Why are you asking me this? Don’t do that to me, alright?” *softer* “Don’t do that.”

“How are you doing?” He’s doing very well. Very relieved that eh sale went well. This drop was like 3-4 months of work, the night before the sale felt like an entire month, too. Jesa and Vlamis Facetimed for more than 5hrs. They set up the website, and that’s how the glitch with the GIVE ME MALEX OR GIVE ME DEATH shirts and poster happened. They made a mistake and only noticed after the website went live.

“Do you know when S3 will air?” No, he thought it might’ve been sooner, but apparently not.

“I love your poetry from the last drop so why no poems this time?” He writes poems when he’s inspired, he hasn’t written a poem in a while. He’s currently preparing to direct his first movie in June 2021, and he’s been very focused on that.

“The Meet & Greet day changed.” Filming schedule changed bc they had snow, the schedule’s changing constantly. He’ll be set all day tomorrow (well, today, Jan 11) from 8am until 8 or 9pm. Sometimes they might even wake up in the morning and learn that the schedule’s been changed.

“You could talk about nothing and we’d still watch.” He doesn’t want to talk about nothing, wonders if anyone has any questions about the sale.

“I’m so excited about the robe. I was going to buy more but I’m broke.” He says we should be responsible.

Someone’s still waiting about their Black Friday stuff, but he says it’s the shipping company, not them.

“Vlamentines" He *loves* that, thinks it’s a good pun.

“Gotta support Aurora.” Always. 🥰

“Jealous Guerin in S3?” You’ll see, you’ll see.

“I placed 3 orders, last one last night. Give me Malex or give me death.” He loves it. He also mentions, that they’re working hard on figuring out how to combine orders in the future so people don’t have to pay for shipping several times. They just can’t do that logistically at the moment.

“Real talk, how often do you check your DMs?” He says, that some people might’ve noticed that he occasionally likes random photos on people’s IG pages. When that happens, it’s a sign that he read someone’s DM. He feels bad when he checks his mentions with a delay, and people’s stories have already vanished after 24hours. He sometimes doesn’t get to checking DMs for a week.

“Will we ever get the original pic of the kiss recreation?” *smiles* *waggles his eyebrows* “Maybe in the morning”

“So happy the Trevor Project was chosen for this merch drop!” He’s very happy, too. According to him, it was a no-brainer. Tyler’s worked with them in the past, so it made even more sense. They wanted to make sure that Tyler felt very strongly about wherever they’d be donating.

People urge him to go to sleep. “You want me to go to bed?”

“Why is your merch not available in India?” *deep breath* “It should be, it’s ridiculous. Unbelievable.”

“Your poetry was awesome.” He appreciates the praise and promises to write some more poetry.

Someone asks whether the movie he’ll be directing in June will be a comedy, but he says it’s the opposite. He’s mentioned in the past that Aurora and him will both act in the movie, but apparently he forgot about that. He doesn’t want to jinx the movie and doesn’t know how much he should reveal just yet. Talks a bit about 5 Years Apart.

Someone mentions that it’s Jeanine’s birthday on January 14th.

“Do (or don?) a face mask, Vlamis.” He refuses. Mentions his friend and roommate Spencer Waldner, who makes face masks.

“If there’s leftover merch, will you do another sale?” He says that most things are actually sold out bc they use Blank Clo’s blanks and will only make what’s been ordered. They might try to restock some pins tho, bc they went so quickly.

“USPS are a joke” He defends them. “They’re a public service, they’re trying hard, guys.”

“You should do a Vlambase drop with the Real Vlamis [a.k.a. Jeanie]” He’s excited and thinks it’s a good idea and asks if anyone’d be interested.

Someone congratulates him on directing his first movie. He points out that he’s directed before (Making It, a 3-part web series, it’s on YouTube).

“Would you ever come to Australia Comic Con?” He’d love to. Mentions that he’s supposed to be in Paris in May for a convention, but he’s not sure whether that’s gonna happen considering how things are currently going with the pandemic.

Some more talk about 5 Years Apart.

Circles back to doing a merch drop with Jeanine. People like the idea.

“Please save this live.” After an IG update, things have changed and he doesn’t know how to do it. In the past he had the option to save it [for 24hrs], now he can only upload it to IGTV.

“$30 shipping to Australia hurts my soul but I did it anyway.” He appreciates that and mentions, that he lived in Australia for 6 months in the past.

“Sing some Bright Eyes” He thinks his singing would hurt people’s ears.

Jesa Joy pops up in the chat and urges him to go to bed.

“Jesa is yelling at you.” Vlamis says that Jesa’s a “yeller”, and that she has a tattoo that says “Don’t yell tho”. He admits that Jesa often yells for a good reason. “I need to be yelled at sometimes.”

Someone asks him to accept a request to join his live. He says he’s pretty tired.

He says hello to someone from Germany (not me btw :P) “What’s up, Germany ✌️”

More people ask him to sing, but he says he cannot sing. He says it’s not like a joke or him being modest, he straight up can’t sing and is a horrible singer.

“Will there be a sequel to 5 Years Apart?” Maybe a sequel called “10 Years Apart” (he’s joking and visibly tired)

“Should I buy anything before the sale ends?” Yes.

Jesa Joy’s from Michigan, and Vlamis’s grandma’s from Middlesborough, Kentucky.

“Is Tyler singing again?” He doesn’t know. “I hope so. Love that kid’s voice” (Tyler’s 3.5 years older than Vlamis :P)

He’s getting sleepy and will read a little bit before bed. Considers drinking some Mountain Dew.

“Do you take design ideas.” Sure. Sometimes he sees design ideas from people they’ve been working on for months, but he’s gonna “steal” an idea from someone, he’ll tell them. He’ll steal it, though.

“Are you still reading SAGA?” He read the first one and is half-way through the second. He’s currently reading a book called “My First Movie” by Stephen Lowenstein. “How cliché.” Aurora got it for him.

Purple Skittles are his favorite. Purple everything.

“Your girlfriend’s the best girlfriend.” She is, she really is.

Asks Jesa Joy whether he should go to bed now.Even though it’s late, he’s hungry. Considers eating something. People tell him to go to bed.

He asks “Should I get naked and put on the PJs?” *waggles eyebrows* “I’M KIDDING, YOU’RE SICK. YOU’RE ALL DISGUSTING.” xD

“Don’t eat!” He laughs.

Says goodbye and says that Jesa’s posted a surprise picture.

“Any advice for aspiring actors?” Tells them to make their own stuff bc no one’s gonna hire them. (He’s being sarcastic). “It’s dark, but it’s what you need to hear.”

“Okay, love you guys. Thank you again! It was our best sale yet. Means a lot to me. Means a lot to Tyler. Us doing so well might mean that Tyler will work with us again. So I really appreciate it. Okay, I love you all.”

Jesa promises to post the pic in 4 minutes. He’s excited. “See, I got her to do it! The picture is kind of ridiculous.”

*pretends to take off his shirt, stops halfway through* “Noooooo, noooooo, noooooo!”

*throws kiss* “Love you guys, good night.”

#michael vlamis #vlambase #mgv ig #mgv interviews #nonnie asks

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bruh-haikyuu · 5 years ago

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A/N: Iwaizumi domestic AU!! I am here to quench your Iwaizumi Hajime father-of-three thirsts.

On another note: Haikyuu manga ends today :(( Guess who’s gonna fucking DIE. Anyways, this manga has left so much of an impact to me, I feel like it’s already imprinted in my heart. Thank you so much to Furudate for making such a wonderful story, and may their stories flourish! I’ll still make content though, I’m really waiting on that new light novel and the second cour of the anime pspsspsps 👁👁

ménage. | iwaizumi hajime episode 1 – haimish.

summary: in which your oldest son is about to begin elementary school, but your husband misplaces the documents while in a frenzy.

word count: 2215

warnings: manga spoilers!!

(adj.) homey; cozy and unpretentious

At seven and four, Kazuki and Isao were at the age where they couldn’t keep their messy doodles confined into the sketchbooks you’d bought for them.

The first victim to their mischief was the wall in the kitchen beside the door leading to your backyard. It was a small parade of animals, with streamers and party hats. Tiger-san with his jagged crown, the dainty family of rabbits, and the hefty Bear-san (“No, Mommy! That’s Cat-san!” your second oldest had huffed indignantly at the clutter of crayon circles) who was at the very front of the entire crew. Your boys were lucky enough that it had been you who’d walked into their little streak of artistry. An understanding glance had been enough, seeing that you probably weren’t so different back then. You’d clean it up with a secret trick your mother had taught you and everything in the Iwaizumi household was back in business. Easy-peasy.

But had it been Hajime who’d encountered their mess... let’s just say you wouldn’t hear the end of the boys’ shrill wails until the next week.

Unfortunately for you and your trusty washcloth, Kazuki and Isao’s artistic escapades didn’t stop at the kitchen wall. Next, it was the floors, the windows of the entrance and even on the door to your bedroom (with a side of elephant stickers that you’d admit were pretty cute). Thus, it didn’t take very long for your husband to finally be faced by their “little” temperament. And not very long for the boys to be faced by their father’s wrath.

But there was simply a stubborn rock settled somewhere in your sons’ heads—they get it from Hajime, you’d kept telling yourself—and for simply the reason of being boys in their early youths, they kept on drawing. Everywhere. Anywhere.

At least the both of you were thankful enough for Hina-chan. Still a tiny ball of warmth curled up cozily against in your arms, Hina was the youngest and the only daughter in your modest family of five. And the least likely source of your daily hurdles.

“By the time Hina learns to hold a pencil, should we just introduce our home as an art gallery or something?” Hajime had asked you rather comically after seeing the colorful family portrait Isao had drawn in one of his reference books.

Though Kazuki, your first child, was completely aware of his responsibilities as an older brother, it was concerning enough that he still hadn’t let go of his childishness. He was seven now, and in a few months, delving into April, he’d be in first grade. Maybe he was simply rowdy in nature... who knows? With a gruff husband like Iwaizumi Hajime, anything was possible.

Elementary school... you pondered, gazing softly at your family in the living room. Hajime cradling Hina in one arm while he and the boys cheered wildly at the service ace that was displayed on TV. How exciting.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Remember to ask for ‘Ichimura-sensei’, alright? She was the teacher I talked to when Kazuki and I checked the school. She’ll know the details I asked her about in the last meeting so you just have to give her the application form.”

Hajime suppressed a chuckle at your adamant ramble. “You’ve only been telling me this all week. I won’t forget, you know.”

“Sorry,” you sighed, bouncing your sleeping daughter in your arms. “I just want to make sure nothing goes wrong. This is our firstborn we’re talking about.”

“Trust me, Y/N,” he smiled. “It’ll be fine.”

You could only nod quietly. Was it the maternal instinct within you that was acting up? It all felt too soon, too quick. If you blinked, Kazuki would’ve already gotten married already... You weren’t ready for that.

But the least you could do was get used to the changes that were going to happen around the house. Starting with this.

“You’ve brought the form with you, right? You didn’t forget it?”

You felt bad that your husband was being held up at the entrance to your little home, but it couldn’t hurt to be just slightly careful. Unclasping his bag, he scrabbled through it, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry, I’ve put it in a folder here last night, so there’s no way it would—Eh?”

More rummaging.

“Hajime, is everything alright?”

He was pulling things out of his bags now. 2000-yen bills, crumpled receipts, his packets of protein shakes, Hina’s diapers. But no application form. Nothing.

“I-It’s not there.”

“Huh?!”

“H-Hold on, I’ll check our bedroom,” his voice was in the least reassuring tone he could muster and you felt your heart drop a million feet into the ground.

Why would this happen now of all times? The document was already filled and sealed with your inkan*, payments documented, crucial information written on that single sheet of paper. Crucial information you couldn’t afford to fill in twice... and it was missing?

You really didn’t want to think about how today was the last day to submit applications—

“Kazuki!!” Hajime’s thunderous voice cut through the silence.

A tiny echo of pattering footsteps and Hina shifted against your chest but did not wake. You were thankful enough; anymore ruckus and your sanity would snap.

Yawning, your eldest scratched his dark bedhead and sauntered over to his father who fisted a sheet of paper in his hand. “Daddy, you’re too loud...”

Putting the paper onto full display, your eyes nearly bulged out of your head at what was on it.

Had the form always been so... colorful? You could barely see any writing on it, covered by the persistent doodles your son had scrawled over. Mixes of hiragana he’d been practicing, completed with small side drawings—Anpanman*, some horses and a purple paddy field. All in all: it was a mess. But it was clearly the form you’d filled in. And it was clearly Kazuki’s mess.

Hajime scowled, the space between his eyebrows wrinkling. “Did you do this?”

“...No.”

“Well it couldn’t be Isao or Hina, couldn’t it?” he seethed. “Don’t take me for an idiot. Isao’s been having playdates all week and Hina can’t draw yet. What did I tell you about drawing outside of the papers and books we gave you, huh?!”

“B-But I was just trying to help!” Kazuki exclaimed. “You and Mommy are always so busy taking care of papers. So I thought if I helped you write in it... you’d come and play with me again.”

Suddenly, a lump rose in your throat. You were always so busy taking care of Hina and Isao and their immeasurable demands, and your husband was either at work or out playing volleyball with the neighborhood team. You wondered how lonely it was for him the entire week you were taking care of the registrations.

How lonely it was, despite being surrounded by so much people.

Your husband, however, was completely unfazed. “Go to your room.”

“But Daddy, it’s not—!”

“Kazuki.” Each syllable he drew out sent a shiver down your spine. In a split second, the Iwaizumi household’s living room grew cold. “Go. To. Your. Room! Put your arms above your head and keep it that way until I come back!”

As if on cue, the waterworks emerged.

“I hate you, Daddy! I hate you! You never listen to me!” and that was the last thing you heard from the tear-streaked boy before he stumbled through the hallway, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

“...Mmn,” Hina roused, her tiny button nose flaring, and you instantly knew what was to come. Oh no...

Sighing in defeat, your husband crossed his arms and ambled back towards you and the bawling baby in your embrace. Pressing your lips together, you mumbled to him. “You could’ve been a bit nicer to Kazuki. Now look what happened.”

“He’ll never learn his lesson if I don’t get strict,” he said, the guilt crossing his eyes. Swimming. Settling. “I’m going to go ahead to the school before they close for the day. Ask if they’ve got anymore forms I can fill in there.”

You nodded, hands coming to rub gently against your daughter’s back as your husband kissed your forehead—a daunting ritual you did before whenever he left the house.

Then, he bent down to softly coo at the red-faced infant. “Hina-chan, how about a kiss for Daddy before I go?”

The result: Hina only cried louder. Repelled by the sudden change in volume, Hajime scratched the back of his neck remorsefully.

“I get it, I get it... I’m the bad guy today,” he rustled. “I guess I’ll be off now. I’ll leave the house in your care, Y/N.”

You smiled at him, your hard-working husband with a weak spot for your little family. “Be careful, Hajime-kun.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, you were left to your terror again. A crying seven-year old, a crying baby, and if all the noise were to wake up Isao from his afternoon nap... Geez, what a mess...

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Hajime really felt like he knew this guy somewhere... High school? A volleyball match? That refreshing aura wasn’t really difficult to tell apart, either...

“You’re number 2 from Karasuno High, ain’tcha?”

“Uwaah... Seijoh’s Iwaizumi Hajime...” Sugawara twinkled, the grey cowlick on his head standing up straight. “The atmosphere of an powerful ace really is hard to miss.”

Hajime blushed. When was the last time someone called him a ‘powerful ace’? He had you to call him that whenever you were feeling nostalgic, but otherwise, that label was a shard of the past.

“Sugawara-san, right?” he recalled. “You work here at this school?”

The man chuckled. “Yep! I’m a teacher now. How about you, Iwaizumi-san? What are you up to here?”

“Oh, I’m looking for Ichimura-sensei. I want to talk to her about the registration for my son.”

Sugawara shook his head for a moment before replying.

“Unfortunately, Ichimura-sensei is out with the flu. That’s why I’m covering the weekend shift for her. You can just give the forms to me, and we can look over the terms and conditions.”

What luck, Hajime thought. But at least having this guy around wasn’t going to be as bad of an experience.

“Ah... about that...” he started. “My kid drew all over the application form and I don’t remember making any copies. So, would it be a problem if I did it again right now? Me and my wife are in a bit of a tough spot at the moment.”

By the grace of God, Sugawara said, “I don’t think it’d be a issue. Let’s go to the office and discuss it together. Before that, can I ask for your ID, Iwaizumi-san?”

“Ah, yeah, sure, let me just get my wallet...” filing through his bag, Hajime rifled through the stacks of paper, looking... searching... And when he got to his wallet: “Huh?”

There it was. The application-payment form he’d filled in last week, in its pristine glory. And with absolutely zero drawings on it. There was his family seal and everything. Down to both of your signatures, in the blue ink you’d insisted on using (Hajime never really bothered to make out the different uses of different inks).

“The form...” he muttered. “It must’ve slipped from the folder or something. Then that means the one at home was probably a copy...”

Freezing, Hajime realized. Crap. What have I done?

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

By the time Hajime got home, the house was already quiet again. Isao and Hina were asleep in your bedroom—Hina in her crib and Isao laid spread-eagle on the limited expanse of your queen-size bed. Taking the opportunity of a silent home, you decided to use the time you had to eat some sweets you’d secretly stashed in the fridge away from your children’s eyes.

“What a ravenous wife,” he’d teased, only for you to smear a dollop of whipped cream across his face in retaliation.

It didn’t take him long to realize the muffled sobbing from Kazuki’s room had subsided too. Curiosity getting the best of him, your husband stepped inside the danger zone.

Hajime always thought that Kazuki was a peaceful sleeper. He could sleep anywhere and still look like he was having the time of his life. During times like this, where Hajime was drained empty at the end of the day, he couldn’t help but feel jealous of his son.

Gingerly picking him up from the carpeted floors, Hajime rested Kazuki’s head on the crook of his broad shoulder, his gentle breathing blowing faint breezes next to his nape. Looking down at the smattering of papers on the ground, he reached down to read one that Kazuki had presumably written right before he was knocked out cold.

I’m really sorree Sorry Daddy :( I promise to never draw on your things ever again. Kazuuki

Below the large lopsided text he’d written in crayon was a smudged drawing of (what seemed) to be him. Well, if Hajime was a stickman with prominent eyebrows that stuck out of his face.

“I’m sorry too, kid. Guess I was being unfair, huh?” he murmured. “I’ll make it up to you once you wake up. We’ll all play together. Me, you, Isao, Hina and your mom. We’ll use as much time as we have left.”

And Hajime never backed down on a promise.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

inkan - personalized seals used in lieu of signatures in paperwork

anpanman - a Japanese children’s superhero cartoon character, looks like this

#bruh haikyuu writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #domestic au #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu #hq #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #seijoh x reader #aoba johsai x reader #iwaizumi hajime imagine #iwaizumi hajime scenario #sfw #hajime x reader

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madcatdaderpydrawer-blog · 4 years ago

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Yuuup, doing this again.

Some of these involve the kiddos from @ask-the-six-human-souls, so I’ll put those in the front to avoid scrolling. The goner timeline is so awesome and honestly a major inspiration to me and my amalgamate kids, so here is a crossover scenario where the two survivors awkwardly tell Lucas and teen Justin that Paxton and Justin got into a fight and both of them are dead, Paige got infected and Keith is coming for them.

Here is another one with Lucas! Poor Lucas... Horrortale Paxton can’t see, and has to identify things by sound and touch. He’s rather good at quickly recognizing materials like hair, skin, shirts, etc, but he needs a moment to concentrate to figure things out. Movement also scares the crap out of him, and so while he does his checks Isabelle looms ominously over him to make damn sure that Lucas doesn’t DARE move. How friendly :D

Here is another horrortale thing, just to keep it all nicely bunched up. As mentioned before, he is blind as a bat and that plays into his mechanics as a “enemy” in the haunted forest. Though, Paxton is just as stressed as you XD he’s basically in his own horror game, being blind and basically constantly sick.

Here’s a more wholesome one of my little baby boy (he’s slightly decomposed but he has the right spirit) eating a snack of bread! If you give him food he’ll leave you be, so just be respectful and pack snacks and you can basically wander the forest freely without this fella chasing you.

Here is a genocide doodle! I was making a pose reference and one thing led to another and this doodle was born. He can only sustain magic for so long, and when he’s all alone and too weak to continue what will happen to him? =) I’m sure you already know.

Soulless Paxton and Soulless Justin “hanging out” together. One of them is clearly having a lot more fun here...

I had this song stuck in my head and I had to get it out so I drew this little doodle to keep my own sanity. Gosh this nugget needs help-

This is just a practice doodle I made after I got the ask to draw tiny Justin. It’s honestly really cute on its own, and I really like how I drew the folds in the clothing. It looks really nice imo.

I wanted to draw Paige wearing a different outfit while in Disney lit, and we had just recently finished watching Cinderella. So here is her doing some house keeping. Mainly just some clothing practice.

* Keith is sparing you

Gosh these two are just precious together, they can have such a sweet sister dynamic. :w: It’s too cuteeeeeeeee.

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casper-writes-stuff · 5 years ago

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The Black Cat Part One

ao3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/23247103/chapters/55664587

Summary: "Well, a lot of YA novels are set in places like Salida and the paranormal life threatening plot and the romance subplot usually kick off when something new and out of the ordinary happens. Someone new moving in, or catching the attention of the very obviously paranormal people who already live there. We got the big three, I'm just saying if we're not careful one of us could be a main character in YA novel plot."

Patton listened to Roman speak, and decided not to bring up the black cat with mismatching purple and green eyes that had been following him lately.

Fic trade with Logan ( @rose-gold-roman)!!!! We both realized we hadn't written moxiety in a while, so I suggested this be a thing!!! And then this got really long and now my half is going to be two of the tropes (found family and shapeshifting) in a multichapter fic that hopefully won't go past ten chapters. Enjoy Logan ilysm!!!

Also fair warning the fic description is like. A seriously rewritten paragraph because I didn't wanna copy paste what I had.

“You know, I was reading last night-”

“A rare venture into a new world for you.”

“Shut up Logan, anyway I was reading a book I’d found last night and I was struck with the realization that we live in a Young Adult author’s dreamboat of an out of the way nondescript country town and have our own boogie monsters everyone is afraid of.”

Patton looked up from his doodling on his history homework, brows furrowing as he processed what Roman had just said while Logan looked at him like he had finally lost the marbles hanging on for dear life.

“What?”

“I’m inclined to agree with Patton, Roman, what?”

Roman huffed, sliding into the bench of the cafeteria table with a pout as he glared at Logan. Patton didn’t get a glare, likely because Roman insisted he could do no wrong in the teasing department.

Which isn’t the case but Patton wasn’t going to correct him and lose out on prime teasing material. Besides, he was genuinely confused by what his friend had just said.

“Keep up with me specs, I’m sure you’ve read plenty of YA adventure novels when you need a break from the sciency mumbo jargon-”

“Mumbo jargon?”

“-you usually consume on a regular basis. Will you stop interrupting me?”

Logan stared at Roman for a few more seconds, but when their more eccentric friend didn’t back down, he sighed.

“Fine, continue with whatever nonsensical bullshit you were just about to spout in an assassination plot of my sanity.”

Roman nodded, satisfied.

“Thank you. Now as I was saying, think about it. We live in the middle of nowhere Colorado-”

“Factually incorrect, we live in Salida.”

“Logan I swear to God, I just asked you to stop interrupting me.”

Patton bit his lips, forcing himself to keep his mouth closed while he struggled to muffle his laughter as Logan and Roman glared at each other. If Roman gave in, they’d start bickering and Roman would never get to say his piece. If Logan did, he’d be sitting through the rest of their breakfast trying not to insult or interrupt their friend.

He had his money on Logan caving first, Roman was stubborn and he seemed to really want to get his thoughts out before class started.

As predicted, Logan gave a frustrated sigh and started tearing at his double chocolate muffin, shoving a chunk in his mouth while he ignored Roman’s satisfied smirk.

“Now, as I was saying, we live in the middle of nowhere Colorado,” Patton fought back another laugh at the clear dig at Logan’s interruption, “literally nothing happens here and we have town boogiemen that everyone fears because they never show their faces and one of them basically owns every politician running the place.”

Roman was listing things off on his fingers, clearly invested in what he was saying. Patton put down his pencil and reached over to grab a chunk from Logan’s muffin, snatching his hand back with the piece trapped between his fingers when Logan tried to grab for it.

“Okay, how does that make us a dreamboat for a Young Adult genre writer?” Patton asked, shoving the piece of muffin in his mouth while Logan glared at him.

His friend blinked, looking at Patton blankly for a moment. It lasted until Patton raised an eyebrow and Roman conceded the point that Patton didn’t read that much unless he was able to find an audio book so he could keep busy while he read and forged on.

“Okay, you’ve seen Twilight right Patton?” At Patton’s nod, Roman continued, “well a lot of YA novels are set in places similar. Forks, Oregon, or Gatlin, South Carolina. And usually they kick off when some out of the ordinary event takes place. Moving into the town, the scary not often seen person taking an interest in someone, yada yada yada.”

Patton continued to nod along, an image of the cat that had started waiting for him outside of his tiny home and following him everywhere popping into his mind.

“And why is this important, Roman?” Logan asked, huddling protectively over his muffin and glaring again at Patton when he grinned at him.

Roman huffed at the question, crossing his arms over the table and leaning towards the center of their little group. Patton followed his lead, practically sitting on the edge of his seat with an anticipating grin while Logan gave the two an unimpressed look.

They looked at him expectantly, and Logan rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know what you two are expecting from me, I’m not getting any closer to Patton lest he steal my entire muffin this time.”

Patton let out a mischievous giggle, resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he looked at Logan with a fake expression of innocence.

“Why Logan! I wouldn’t dare,” he said, putting on a southern belle accent to further his plea of not guilty.

Roman let out an uncontrolled snort while Logan went back to glaring. There was silence between the three while Patton blinked at Logan innocently and Logan glowered at Patton suspiciously.

“Just get over here, Specs, so I can say what I need to!”

Logan huffed, pushing his glasses up his nose as he leaned in closer, arms creating a wall between his muffin and Patton’s hands.

Patton just grinned, turning his attention back to Roman.

“Okay, importance of this topic, what is it?” Patton asked, eagerly paying attention to his friend now because Roman was getting into it and he loved it when Roman got dramatic.

“It’s important that we graduate school and get out of Salida before one of our lives gets put in danger for the sake of paranormal romance that could result in our deaths,” Roman said quickly and to the point, which was out of character for him.

Then Roman glanced at Logan and Patton had to struggle not to laugh because Roman had been worried about getting interrupted again before he could reach the dramatic reveal.

Logan was back to being unimpressed, leaning back and looking at the ceiling as if praying for patience.

“I want to leave this town as much as you do, Roman, but the paranormal does not exist and so little happens here anyway I doubt it’d come here to make itself at home.”

Patton, while Logan was distracted, snatched what was remaining of his muffin. Logan yelped, lunging to get it back while Patton struggled to get off the table bench, forcing back his snickers as he shoved some of the muffin in his mouth to take a massive bite from the side.

“Patton!” Logan screeched, stumbling as he got out of his own seat to chase after Patton.

He didn’t even stop to grab his things, but Patton had the advantage of already having packed up almost everything and clutching his history homework in his hands when the bell rang, signalling for students to make their way to class in the next five minutes.

Logan let out a despairing whine as he stopped chasing after him, Patton trying not to choke on his stolen muffin through his laughter as his friend retreated to gather his backpack and homework.

While he walked to class, finishing off the muffin as he focused on not getting shoulder checked by the other student, Patton made a mental note not to tell Roman about the cat that had started following him. It held too much intelligence and understanding in its mismatched green and purple eyes for him to be anything but sure Roman would insist he stay away from it.

#casper writes #ts patton #ts logan #ts roman #moxiety #future moxiety #shapeshifter au #patton the muffin thief #idk if theres any other warnings for this part #its just those three being best friends so #this is honestly one of the best interactions ive ever written

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jimimn · 4 years ago

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HHFJSLASI YOU AND I ARE JUST PROFESSIONALS WHEN IT COMES TO RAMBLING AND I LOVE IT I'LL MAKE THIS FIRST ASK SHORT SO THAT YOU CAN ADD THE READ MORE AND PUT THE REST UNDER THE CUT SO THAT YOUR FOLLOWERS DON'T HAVE TO DO A LOT OF SCROLLING LMAO - 💫

your brain i love it 😌😌

MISS SHIVI YOU'RE TOO SWEET 🤧💞 HFAKKA JUNGKOOK MADE THE WORLD STOP WITH THAT HAIR DYE AT THIS POINT I'M JUST ✨ manifesting ✨ a selfie of him with that hair and I know for a fact that the moment that one selfie comes out ITS OVER FOR US and OMG IN A BUN??? JDJAKJD I THINK YOURE SPEAKING THE DEVIL INTO EXISTENCE. BLONDE JIKOOK SELCA LETS GO BOYS COME ON DON'T BE SHY 🧚‍♂️🌸

OOOPS THAT IDOL PERFORMANCE DOES LIVE IN MY HEAD RENT FREE THO...ESP ALL OF THEIR GROWLS..CALM DOWN??? JIMIN?? EXCUSE YOU.

AND JUNGKOOK'S OUTFIT WAS SO HOTJFJSLQJDJWKA. I did watch the performances later and can attest that DYNAMITE SLOW JAM IS NOW MY ANTHEM AND BLONDE JUNGKOOK SINGING IT IS DEFINITELY NOT GOOD FOR MY SANITY

CHANEL MODEL!JIMIN MISS SHIVI I AM THINKING MANY THOUGHTS NOW FOR REAL THO HE SHOULD TOTALLY WEAR MORE CHOKERS AND CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM FINISHING A PERFORMANCE ANF THEN RIPPING IT OFF AND THROWING INTO THE CROWD LIKE JSLWLAKF DEATH UPON US ALL!!! Honestly he can wear anything at this point and ummm 🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️ BUT FBKSKA I HOPE THIS ISNT WEIRD BUT I JUST THOUGHT OF JIMIN'S COLLARBONES PEAKING OUT FROM UNDER THE CHOKER AND WE'RE GOING A LITTLE FERAL AGAIN

BODY ROLLS DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED THERE IS NOTHING MORE ATTRACTIVE THAN HIM NOT ONLY BEING SO HOT BUT ALSO USING PERFECT TECHNIQUE!! AND THAT GAZE BYE I'M SHORT CIRCUITING HE CLEARLY KNOWS HIS POWER AND ISN'T AFRAID TO USE IT aND THAT LOOK GAAAAH 5TH MUSTER JIMIN COME HOME PLS THE FOOD IS COLD AND EVERYONE'S ASKING WHERE YOU ARE (me....I'm everyone) NO NOO DON'T BE SORRY I LOVE IT TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOUR MUSINGS *cups face in hand and leans on table*

AND I AGREE!! TAEHYUNG LOOKING GOOD IN THAT SUIT ONLY SHOWS US THAT THE GODS TOOK THEIR SWEET TIME ON HIM AND LMFAO I MEAN THEY'RE NOT WRONG THO 🤡 IS A PRETTY ACCURATE DESCRIPTION OF US and omg you've got a sister!! that's so nice 💓

LITERALLY ON WITH THAT DANCE BREAK IN A CONCERT WITH JIMIN JUMPING OVER JUNGKOOK WHEN I TELL YOU I UGLY CRIED FOR HOURS AFTER SEEING THAT DURING THE MV PREMIERE I DON'T THINK I'LL LIVE KNOWING THEY DID IT IN A CONCERT and ooooooo you should definitely keep hoping!! We got an I need u performance, so anything's possible!! I got into them with bs&t so it makes me very 🤧🤧🤧 in retrospect but nothing about jimin dancing his jacket off was 🤧 it was more of a 🥵😵🥴🤕🤒 type of feeling LMAO

I KNOW RIGHT I LOVE HOW THEY ALWAYS GIVE US LIL UPDATES EVERYWHERE LIKE "OO I WENT CAMPING" "OO WE ATE BREAD!!" "OOO LOOK WE'RE JUST GOING TO DROP COVERS AND SELCAS SO YOU CAN LOSE WHATEVER LITTLE SANITY REMAINED!!" BUT YES TIMES LIKE THAT WHEN HE TWEETS JIMIN IS THE LITERAL EMBODIMENT OF THE BIGGEST HEART EMOJI

AND FJSLADHK I NEVER TOLD YOU LMAO MY BRAIN 💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️ MY BIAS IS JIMIN!! I MEAN BY THE LOOKS OF IT YOURS IS TOO HE MAKES US ALL SO 💕💓💫💓💗💕🌺🌈💘💓✨💗💓🌸💕💝🌈💓💗 ITS A LITTLE EMBARRASSING HOW MUCH HE MAKES ME FEEL LIKE WOW HOW AM I LETTING A MAN WHOM I DON'T EVEN KNOW HAVE SO MUCH CONTROL OF ME. HE'S JUST... EVERYTHING 🥺 I'M IN MY BREAK AND A LITTLE TOO EMO RIGHT NOW!! BUT I GUESS YOUR BIAS IS JIMIN TOO RIGHT? TAKING BY YOUR LOVELY BLOG AND BRUTALLY HONEST (IN THE BEST WAY!) URL LMAO IF NOT THEM I'M SORRY FOR PRESUMING 🙈🙈 but tell me!! how did you get into them??

(god...I'm just looking and I see I wrote too much I'm so sorry fksjwlfo)-💫

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA i love seeing your asks in my inbox ok they make me very happy 🤧🤧 BLONDE JIKOOK IN A BUN SELCA I AM MANIFESTING!!!!!!!! BOYS JUST OPEN YOUR GALLERY AND DROP THEM SELCAS I KNOW YOU HAVE A LOT OF THEM PLS SPARE SOME FOR US THANX 😭

JIMIN IN THAT IDOL PERFORMANCE HOLY SHIT YES 😳 LIKE EXCUSE ME WHAT KIND OF DISRESPECT IS THAT 👁👄👁 and then in the same week he became small cuddly jimin with a boopable nose during the home performance 😔

istg jungkook looked like a very hot rich ceo of a huge company or sth 😳😳 (which he actually is sdfghjk atleast partially sdfg)

CHANEL NEEDS TO CALL JIMIN ASAP 🔫🔫🔫 AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING MAKING ME IMAGINE WILD SCENARIOS LIKE THAT 😭 ok imagine him smirking the “i know im hot” smirk after he throws the choker DEATH OK ABSOLUTE DEATHHHHHHHH and omg yes his collarbones along with the choker 😳😳😳😳 (and no its not weird asdfghj chill)

AND OMG THAT IS THE BIGGEST PROBLEM RIGHTTTTT!!!! THAT PARK JIMIN IS ABSOLUTELY AWARE OF THE POWER HE HOLDS AND HOW HOT HE IS!!!!! AND HE USES IT JUST THE RIGHT AMOUNT WHICH IS KNOWS IS ENOUGH FOR US TO GO ABSOLUTELY FERAL and he’s such a fucking tease too dear lord i can’t with him 😭😭😭😭😭 AND OMG “*cups face in hand and leans on table*” STOP BEING SO CUTE OKAY WTF I AM BLUSHING HERE 😭😭😭😭

AND YES 🤡 IS DEFINITELY ALL OF US 🤣 i remember waiting for 12 am kst every freaking day for a week before BE dropped and big hit was like “not today you absolute clowns” on all our faces 🤡 AND YESS AAAAAAAA she’s not my own sister though!! she’s my aunt’s daughter. they’ve come to visit us for a week 🥰🥰

ON DANCE BREAK WITH JIMIN JUMPING OVER JUNGKOOK HOLY FRIKKIN YES BUT HAVEN’T THEY STOPPED DOING THAT JUMP IN THE RECENT PERFORMANCES? im sad :(((( BUT YES THAT IN A CONCERT WITH ARMY CHEERING AND FANCHANTS AND EVERYTHING HOLY SHIT CAN’T IMAGINE THE ENERGY IN THE STADIUM DURING THAT 🤯🤯🤯🤯 ARE YOU KIDDING I GOT INTO THEM WITH BS&T AS WELL. i am never ever ever going to be over that song. and yes jimin’s “accidental” jacket flips in bs&t are the reason is why i live and breathe 😌😌 (and simultaneously die multiple deaths) I AM NOT EVEN MAKING SENSE ANYMORE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AND OMG I KNOW RIGHT WHEN CHRISTMAS LOVE DROPPED WITHOUT A FUCKING CLUE I WENT !@#$%^&*()&^%$#@q@#$%^&*( BECAUSE I HAD JUST WOKEN UP FROM SLEEP AND /?????? NEW SONG FROM JIMIN??????? THAT FELING WAS JUST HHHHHHHHHHHHHH atleast tae gave us a hint BUT I WAS STILL NOT READY WHEN SNOW FLOWER DROPPED. DAMN I HOPE THEY DON’T DO THIS NO WARNING THING WITH KTH1 AND JJK1 BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO BE FUCKING SLEEPING WHEN THEY DROP ASDFGHJK AND JIMIN AAAAAAAA JIMIN I MISS HIM SO MUCH CAN HE GO LIVE AGAIN PLS I JUST WANT TO HEAR HIS SOFT VOICE AND SEE HIS EYE SMILE AND FLOOFY HAIR AND TINY HANDS :(((((((

AND OMG YOURS TOO???? 😭😭😭 AND PRESUMPTION WHAT PRESUMPTION OMG OFC MY BIAS IS JIMIN (and six bias wreckers 😌😌) LIKE I HAVE JIMIN IN MY ICON AND IN MY HEADER AND IN MY URL AND I GIF JIMIN MOSTLY SO 😭😭😭 WHAT PRESUMPTION 😭😭😭 and god yes i love every little thing about him 🥺🥺🥺 FROM HIS SOCK DOODLES TO HIM BEING SUPER CLUMSY AND HIS JACKET FLIPS AND HIS SEXY BRAIN AND HIS KIND HEART AND HIM NOT GIVING TWO FUCKS ABOUT GENDER TO HIM GROWLING ON STAGE TO HIS NIPSLIPS I JUST!!!!!LOVE!!!!!!EVERYTHING!!!!! 🤧🤧🤧🤧 AND yes lmao my url ok story time!! so when i made this blog... i didn’t know i’d get into giffing and stuff lol so the friend who got me into bts (i’ll come to that story later) suggested jiminsjacketflip as a url for my blog but i was like nah this doesn’t sound cool so i added a bit of ✨pazzaz✨ and made it flipthatjacketjiminie LMFAOOOOO and ive been wanting to change it for a while now because its so fucking long and my watermark on gifs looks shitty because of that 🤡 but i haven’t found anything as unique as this one yet and i also think that if I change my url people won’t recognize me so im just..... living with this one lmaooooo 🤡

AND OKAY OMG so i got into them at the end of june 2020. My friend anna (who also has a blog and makes a++++ gifs @/lifegoesmon) got me into them. She made me listen to them and the first song i heard was stay gold as far as i remember and then it was BS&T AND GODDAMN THE WAY I GOT FUCKING HOOKED TO THE SONG I KEPT LISTENING TO IT ALLLLLLLL DAYYYYYYY and then she showed me the performance for bs&t and i knew i was a goner 🥴🥴 then I watched chaotic bts compilations and they were so fucking funny and adorable that i went like???? how are they so sexy and intimidating on stage and this adorable and chaotic off stage?😭😭😭 we listened to bts’ discography for like three hours on the first day and she shared her playlist with me and stuff and god I just fell for their music. and then obviously with their dance and then obviously with everything about them 🥺🥺 HOW ABOUT YOUUUUUUUU? WHEN AND HOW DID YOU GET INTO THEM???? (and pls don’t be sorry sdfghjk i love reading your asks 💖💖💖) OH ALSO DID YOU WATCH RUNNNNN???????? WHICH ONES DID YOU WATCH????

#anonymous #replied #💫

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lemon-patches · 5 years ago

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Random Handon Headcanons

I just couldn’t get these out of my head so I wrote them down

Hope and Landon leave little notes for each other everywhere. In each other’s rooms, on the bed, in their bags, on their school stuff. Lizzie once asked Hope to borrow a folder for class and Hope accidentally gave her the wrong one. In class, Lizzie nearly gagged over how cute it all was

The first time Landon came back to life everybody (sans MG and Kaleb because...awkward) hesitantly hugged him at first except Hope who couldn’t stop looking at him like he was a ghost until she suddenly just jumped him and wouldn’t let go of him all night. Side note: It’s also how Landon found out that Hope was a clingy/cuddly sleeper. Side side note: Every other time Landon dies Hope needs a minute to just...listen to his heartbeat and hold him to make sure he’s really there

During the time that everybody forgot her, Hope was on her own a lot and kept her sanity by keeping company with the crystal. She used it to “talk” her friends like MG, Lizzie, Josie and even Kaleb every now and then but it was usually Landon who showed up

“The Handon drink” (Peanut Butter Blast, whipped cream on the bottom) was actually a bit of an accident. It was Landon’s first day and he was super nervous so he kinda blacked out and made the milkshake backwards. Hope was confused at first when she saw it but ended up preferring it in the end

It’s already established that Landon likes to write Hope letters, even if she’ll never see the majority of them but Hope in return likes to drawl little doodles (if not full on portraits) of Landon in class with little tiny comments to side like “curly hair, I care”

Speaking of hair, Hope likes playing with Landon’s hair...a lot. It’s fun and Landon finds her fascination adorable since his hair has personally been a pain for him in the past so at least it’s helping him in some regard

They are not sports people...at all. Hope may be the resident badass but even she has her kryptonite. And it’s sports. And Landon, bless him, has all the eye-hand coordination of a baby duck

Ever since she’s gotten a new roommate, Hope has been spending more time in Landon’s room. She has a habit of leaving some of her books and her boots there and always leaves with at least one hoodie. (The oversized, well worn, grey one with the star wars logos on the back is her favorite)

Hope, bless her, isn’t the most organized person, especially with her art supplies which drives Landon just a little bit crazy. So if he ever has free time and happens to be in her room he’ll casually just organize all her stuff and even sharpen some of her colored pencils or clean her brushes

A little bit on the angstier side but every time Landon dies she’s filled with anxiety because she can’t help but think “what if that time was the last time?” It’s such a relief for her whenever she hears the familiar burst of flames and smell of fresh ashes...morbid as that sounds

Unicorns are an inside joke between them

They’re sometimes called The Makeout Couple™ because sometimes it literally feels like it’s all they do. “Get a room you guys.” “We did...this one.”

While Landon knows that Hope isn’t the biggest SciFi fan he does get her to watch one of his favorite movies every time they finish a season of Cutthroat Kitchen

Neither of them are allowed to watch a new episode of Law & Order: SVU without the other

Sometimes when they share a bed Hope has to be on alert because every now and then Landon will unconsciously levitate with her still attached or worse, on top of him, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happens next

Landon’s eyes make Hope a little weak while it’s Hope’s smile that does it for Landon

But back to that cuddling thing real quick. Landon makes the best pillow and Hope is the best blanket

As revealed by Lizzie, Hope knows how to bake so she will randomly surprise attack Landon with baked goods. No seriously, one time he was doing homework alone and turned around for a second and suddenly there were cupcakes in front of him. His girlfriend is a ninja.

There’s a legend of the mysterious sleep and coffee deprived Hope Mikaelson that some have claimed to have seen but have no proof. Landon has. In fact sometimes if she’s really groggy but still has to be up she won’t even open her eyes and just blindly grabs for Landon’s hand as he leads her to breakfast. She looks like a blind koala and it’s adorable.

#Legacies #Handon #Hope Mikaelson #Landon Kirby #I don't know what this is really #but why not share it with the world?#headcanons #handon headcanons

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lifeofclonewars · 5 years ago

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Drawsoka, Gladikin, and Saptain Rex

Part 2 of the Pun Wars, can be read alone, though. Read it on AO3 here.

"Skyguy!" Ahsoka exclaimed, bubbling with happiness, waving with her free hand carefully.

"Snips!" he called back. "What brings you to this part of the ship?" He set the droid and the tools aside, giving little Soka his full attention.

She tugged on Rex's blacks and he gently set her down. She half-skipped her way to the table, the scraped-together tiny-but-still-too-big blacks they’d had to hem for her somehow not tripping her. "I drew for you!" The necessary flimsi being on top of the pile, she separated it and shoved it towards her master.

“For me?” Skywalker questioned. “You shouldn’t have!”

In which a tiny Ahsoka draws some pictures that make Anakin glad and Captain Rex a bit sappy.

-----

The padawans had all been de-aged. Only the padawans, no knights, or masters. Not the little ones in the creche, not the younglings. Just the padawans.

A quick word with the Council had shown it hadn’t just been Ahsoka. No, it had happened to all padawans and only padawans across the galaxy. Whether in the temple or on the frontlines, there was a sudden increase in masters watching over six-year-olds. While the Council worked to reverse whatever happened, the Jedi were left to keep their tiny children safe and occupied.

Torrent Company, worried over how General Skywalker would handle this, met together and created their own caretaker rotation. The General was a part of said schedule, but whether he even realized there was a schedule or not was vague. Either way, so far, it had worked and it should work until this peculiar situation was resolved.

Apparently, keeping a six-year-old Jedi youngling occupied is much different than a 3-year-old cadet. Sure, there’s the start of basic lightsaber training but the level Ahsoka demonstrated was nowhere near the levels the vode had to be at that physical age. General Kenobi, who was asked for help since he’d dealt with a nine-year-old Skywalker and somehow didn’t completely lose his sanity, strictly banned blasters and most things Kaminoans had them do.

Hardcase, somewhat surprisingly, had become the source of Ahsoka’s current distraction. He’d given a collection of crayons and flimsi he’d somehow produced—how he did was being consciously ignored—that he’d been able to give to Ahsoka.

The kid loved it. She’d taken to drawing as many pictures as she could, humming absently while she doodled. With her preoccupied, Rex was able to work through some paperwork on a datapad. She’d tug on the sleeve of his blacks to proudly show off her work, but other than that, the two worked in relative silence.

“Rex!” she called out, climbing down from her chair. He looked up. “I wanna go pass them out now.”

From what he’d seen earlier, Ahsoka had taken to making drawings for each of the troopers she could remember the names of. An odd thing about the de-aging included the fact that, while she couldn’t remember being a Commander or being in combat, she could remember people, things she’d learned about them, and even some things she’d learned from them. Or, rather, she remembered some of the Mando’a she’d been beginning to learn. For example, on the flimsi for Kix, there was a roughly-written “baar'ur” above a crude medic symbol scattered among the doodles.

Rex set his datapad on the table. “Now?” Ahsoka nodded fervently. “Hmm. I guess we can do it now.”

A bright smile bloomed on the young togruta’s face. “Yay!” She grabbed a decent pile of flimsi as Rex stood up. Drawings in hand, she walked back over to him.

He offered his hand to her, reminding her of the ‘buddy-system’ the 501st had been trying to have her follow. She stared at it. “Ash-ully,” she started, hesitating, “can you pick me up?”

Rex raised an eyebrow but she merely started to make a too-cute pouting face. Oh, so she was learning to weaponize it. Maybe he should spread out Jesse’s watches more; he had to have been the one to teach her how. With a huff, Rex responded, “Fine. Climb on up, kid.” He crouched down, allowing Ahsoka to jump onto his back and wrap her arms around his neck. “Not too high. Don’t want me to choke, do you?” He tugged her arms farther down after standing; she giggled.

“Vor’e!” Ahsoka said into his ear, a little louder than he’d like. “Okay, I have Case first!”

“Hardcase first? Good thing I know just where to find him.”

With that, the duo took off, making their rounds around the Resolute. They passed a handful of troopers in every corner of the ship. Had this happened a few weeks ago, some people, not to name names, would have likely started up a badly-repressed giggle storm. As the situation was, they simply gave a kind smile to their tiny Commander and a nod to their Captain and continued on.

Ahsoka gave drawings to Hardcase, Kix, Jesse, Fives, Echo, Zeck, Feedback, and a handful of other brothers. Even with passing them out to all of them, she had a tiny stack of flimsi left.

“Okay,” she stated, bouncing up and down as much as Rex’s hold would allow. “Let’s go see Skyguy now!” De-aging hadn’t lost the nickname; if anything, it made her use of it increase.

Skywalker wasn't too hard to find. Fiddling with some droid or another, the Jedi looked up upon their entrance.

"Skyguy!" Ahsoka exclaimed, bubbling with happiness, waving with her free hand carefully.

"Snips!" he called back. "What brings you to this part of the ship?" He set the droid and the tools aside, giving little Soka his full attention.

“For me?” Skywalker questioned. “You shouldn’t have!” He glanced down and his eyes became suspiciously glassy.

This did not escape his padawan’s notice. “Are you crying?” She began to tear up herself. “Is it not good enough? I can make it better, I promise!”

“No, no, no,” the Jedi reassured. “It’s perfect, Snips. I’m not crying, your picture just made me really happy, that’s all.”

His answer satisfied her. “Oh, okay. That’s good!”

“C’mere, you little rascal.” The little Commander was scooped up into a bear hug. She hugged back as tight as she could before starting to wriggle.

“Okay, I’m done now.” Her comment made her master laugh.

“But I’m not.” He squeezed her one more time and let her go. “Thank you, Ahsoka.”

“You’re welcome!” She beamed, then bounded back over to Rex. “Okay, time to go again!” She put her hands up. With a chuckle, Rex scooped her up into a piggyback once again. “Bye, Skyguy!”

“Bye, Snips! Thanks, Rex, for watching over her. This whole situation isn’t something I ever expected.”

So he hadn’t figured out the schedule. “It’s my pleasure, General.” It really was. This little excursion had been more intriguing than he’d thought initially.

“See you guys!” Ahsoka waved with one hand as they left the room, smiling at the waves she got in return.

After the moment with Skywalker, Ahsoka passed out a handful of more pictures. Everyone reacted positively. Anywhere between a smile and thanks to hugging the little togruta, trapping her between Rex’s back and their chest. The few the kid levitated their pictures over to had the most enthusiasm by far.

With only two left, Ahsoka told Rex they could go back to the room they had originally been in. Once there, Rex set her down and kneeled in front of her, ready to discuss her final two pieces.

“This is Master Plo’s,” Ahsoka said, gesturing to one of the two drawings she had left.

Taking it from her hand carefully, Rex answered, “I’ll make sure it gets to him the next time we see him.” This drawing was two figures that roughly looked like General Koon and small Ahsoka hugging. He couldn’t stop the quirk of his lips, setting the flimsi next to his datapad. “Now, who’s that last one for?”

“You!” the little padawan blurted.

“Me?”

“Yes, you!” she repeated. Once the drawing was handed over, she toed at the ground, hands clasped behind her.

The picture was simple but clear. The background was a rough estimation of some part of the Resolute. A small, orange figure, dressed in black, with roughly drawn montrals stood proudly in the approximate center. A small label confirmed it to be Ahsoka’s attempt at drawing herself. Next to crayon-Ahsoka stood another figure, much taller than it. It wasn’t hard to conclude the figure, with its short blond hair and black clothing, was supposed to be Rex. Reading the label, Rex suddenly felt the need to blink a few times, a warmth settling in his chest.

The label said ori’vod.

“Your armor is too hard to draw. I tried,” Ahsoka admitted, beginning to draw circles with her foot.

“That’s okay, it is pretty hard. Thank you. I really like it.”

Looking up from toeing the ground, her eyes squinted at Rex. “Are you crying, too?”

He involuntarily sniffed once. “No, I’m not. This just made me happy, that’s all. It was really sweet of you to do this.”

She didn’t look convinced. “I don’t get adults,” she stated simply.

With a laugh, Rex pulled her in for a hug. She wrapped her short arms around him and that was that. After pulling away, she clambered back up into her chair. The next round of pieces began. Even with the amount they had passed out, a giant pile remained stacked. Hardly a dent had been made. Where did Hardcase get all of that?

Sitting down as well, Rex placed the picture down, swapping it with the datapad but keeping it in glancing sight. Moments later, the duo fell back into the working rhythm from before their little adventure, a new happiness thrumming in the air.

---

As soon as he was able after the watching-shifts changed, Rex was in his personal quarters. Cody, you better pick up your comm, you—

“Rex?” Cody answered the holo, helmet off. “What’s—”

“Can I adopt a Jedi?” Rex cut him off.

Cody had the gall to look amused. “Which one?” The quirk of his eyebrow screamed Please-not-Skywalker but Rex wasn’t going to tell him that.

“Commander Tano,” he responded instead. “She drew me this, Cody! Look at it!” He put the flimsi close enough to the holo that it was the only thing Cody could see.

“Ah, okay.” Rex lowered the drawing to see his brother’s reaction. Even through the holo, Cody’s eyes were shining, though it was hard to tell with what. "I see. That’s cute."

“I’m serious, Codes. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

Cody nodded. “Yes, I know you’re serious. As I said, that’s a very cute drawing and I think you’ve been on the verge of asking this for a while, the drawing just sped up the process.” He paused, waiting to see if Rex would say anything else. When he didn’t, he said, “I’ll look into it.” Cody went to turn off the comm but paused, eyes narrowing. “Wait a second, are you crying?”

“No,” Rex replied, far too quickly.

A smirk broke across his brother’s face. “Sure, sure. I can’t wait to tell the other—”

“Don’t you dare!”

Thanks for reading!

Mando’a Translations:

Vode: Brothers. In this case, the clones as a whole

Baaur’ur: Medic

Vor’e!: Thanks!

Ori’vod: Big brother

#b writes #pun wars #ahsoka tano #captain rex #clone wars #star wars #sw: tcw #star wars clone wars #star wars the clone wars #plo koon #commander cody #hardcase #anakin skywalker

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