#{/like i said; it was a hellhole but i love(d?) it so much}

[blindedguilt]

//Cleared my inbox for the first time since I got it in like 2013, went down from 1,283 messages to 454 and lowering(?) and like //... Jesus fuck, I went so far back I actually ended up looking through the emails from my Google Plus days. Site was fucking horrible in retrospect, but godDAMN the nostalgia...

[nmakii]

I CANT HELP IT! IM SORRY but we know Al dies in his late 30s early 40s so we can assume he at least got to watch his kids grow up into young adults? What happens when Al dies and reader is “set free?” Only to figure out her children aren’t all who they seem to be? I can see reader’s son possibly becoming a corrupt detective/cop and perhaps her daughter gets into fashion or becoming a teacher? Im not sure what Emi’s future might be but im very curious on your thoughts!

UH OH, SHE’S LOSING HER CONTROL!

[hold up! read the rest of the story first!!]

— and when it seemed like there was no more hope, the monster of the house was slain.

and so, 12 years passed by like a breeze. despite being trapped in this hellhole called home, it was all worth it. for the children, all of it was worth it. noah, just 22 and he’s already a fine policeman, keeping the people in line. and the family treasure, emilia— aged 15, and yet a smart little girl. starting her own little farm outside, from cotton to potatoes, and keeping the family afloat. such wonderful kids, it’s a miracle alastor’s manipulations didn’t rub off on them.

1933, times were tough— the stock market crashed, the bank had failed, and everyone was living off of rations. thankfully, radios gained more popularity, and alastor had profited off of it, making sure his little family was fed with a roof over their heads— he seemed to not only enjoy the newfound wealth, but also the suffering in the streets... suitable for a monster such as himself. and while he worked, you and emilia had used the cotton from her farm to create and sell dresses, your own little effort to the community.

still, that didn’t change the hell that was outside your little safe haven. it wasn’t rare for young men to knock on your door, begging for work. and while your heart felt for them, it couldn’t change what alastor had in mind for them. he’d bring them in— down into the basement. and that very night, suddenly there was meat on the table.

you knew what he did, you weren’t an idiot. he gave you that man’s flesh. but, you did what you had to do. for the children, so that they’re well-nourished. and against your better judgement, you followed through, serving what seemed to be a steak. your husband seemed to love your ultimate submissiveness, one way or the other, you’d give into his ways. although it made your stomach churn, the very thought of eating the poor man, it was hard to live during these times, it was what had to be done.

and, it was why you let your children on a hunting trip with him. “little emi’s first trip! you excited, lil’ sis?” noah laughed, patting his sister on the head. “don’t do that, you’ll mess up my hair!” emilia frowned back. alastor laughed at the two as he held you by the waist, “oh, those two!” he mused, looking back to face you. “we’ll be home in time for dinner, my love. i love you so very much!” he smiled, kissing you all over. you hated whenever he did that— when he acted like he’d done nothing wrong, yet you didn’t fight back. what point was there to it? 15 years, and he’s managed to keep you in this house, there was no more use in fighting back.

“okay. just keep them safe, alastor.” you said as he pressed his nose against your’s. he smiled against your lips and laid onto you one final kiss. “don’t you worry your pretty little head, my dear. i’ll protect them with my life.”

and, that was the last time you saw him.

when your children came home, they looked frightened. “m..momma…” emilia whimpered. “oh, baby, what’s wrong? where’s dad?” you asked, running towards them to make sure they were safe. “…ma…” noah let out. “dad’s dead…” he said, ashamed to look you in the eye. “he’s… dead..?” you asked, dazed. “momma! i-i didn’t mean to!” your daughter cried, pulling you closer to hug. “you didn’t mean to..? emi, what happened?” you pulled your daughter far away enough to see her teary-eyed face.

“…i shot dad…” she said, hiccuping in-between words. your eyes widened at her words. “d-dad was on his knees in the dirt, so i thought he was a deer ‘n i shot him…” she explained, wiping her tears. “momma, i don’t wanna go to jail.” she cried out. “don’t worry, baby. you won’t go to jail. you didn’t mean to…” you kissed her on the forehead.

standing up properly, you looked your son in the eyes, wet as he tried to hold his tears back. “baby, i need you to show me where dad is, i’ll take care of it.” you said. “y-yeah, ok, momma… i’ll take you there…” he nodded his head. “emi, go prepare dinner while i’m gone. momma will take care of this mess.” you told her as she nodded her head.

when you arrived, alastor’s body was mangled beyond recognition, the only way you knew it was him was by the clothes he wore— it must have been someone’s hunting dogs, that means it’s possible somebody already discovered the body, and is headed to the police station. the only possible reason alastor could have been here and on his knees, as emilia said, must have been to dispose of a body. so, the ground beneath you must have a corpse. only the lord knows how many bodies alastor could’ve hidden here. but then, you had an idea.

but, first, you had to check. you dug the dirt below alastor’s body. and lo and behold, was the corpse of noah’s friend-turned-enemy, kenneth. “d…did dad kill ken..?” noah asked, afraid of the answer. “i suppose he did.” you said, frowning over your own answer. did the years truly turn you as heartless as him..? “now, noah… if you don’t want your sister to be locked away in a correctional facility, you’ll help me. understand?” you asked, speaking for the first time with a strict tone. “y-yes, momma…” he said as he pushed back in about 3 feet of dirt. he helped you lower his father’s mangled corpse into the grave, pushing back the remaining 3 feet of dirt.

“now, dear… i need you to head back to your station and see if any hunters reported a corpse in the forest, okay? and, make sure those police dogs you have sniff this area, so that they can find dad…” you said to him, explaining your plan. “yeah, okay, momma… i don’t want little emi going to jail…” he said. this was wrong, but it was to protect your family. for the children, right? you won’t let alastor ruin the family even in his death. if those cops found out that emilia killed alastor, they’d try to punish her for all of his crimes as well.

and with that, you returned home. and when noah came back, he returned triumphant. “they bought it, momma. don’t you worry, emi. no cops are gonna take you away. if they try, i’ll kill ‘em” he assured her, hugging his little sister as the weight on her shoulders fell.

this is good, right? even though it resulted in alastor’s death, all three of you are free from his manipulations. and, yes, you framed an innocent hunter— but, it was to protect the family. after all, you raised such wonderful kids, they don’t deserve to go to jail. they’re so kind, they’d dirty their hands for each other. and… that’s a good thing, isn’t it? they’re loyal to their family.

but then, the guilt finally started to settle in.

and it weighed on your shoulders when they finally lowered alastor’s casket into the ground.

1891 — 1933

loving husband and father

he will be missed by all who knew him

the monster was finally gone.

[misses-kiseki-san]

Hayo!

Welcome to the Kiseki-san's blog!

Im Kiseki-san (misses kiseki for you) and im owner of this page

It purpose: to make the Best improvement in my drawing/animation skills and improve my writing skills too.

Can i interact?

Yes! Ofcourse!

I just happen to dislike some people's behaviour and "interest" if you culd say... so, please do not interact if:

Pedophilia/MAPs or any of these kind of people

Rasism of any kind, (every human is god's beloved creation, it is what it is, swallow it)

Xenophopics (you are safe here, but please speak in inglish or spanish i only understand those <:3)

Homophobics (you are safe here, gay human person, you are safe in here)

Furries (don't get me wrong, some fuertes are healty abaut it, but some others... are disgusting abaut it, so please, if you happen to be a furrie, please be healty abaut it)

Thse People who think sexual harrasment is a sexual orientation, it is not, please deposite your life into the SCP fundación and pray for a death painfully and grotesc ♡

Zoophilics (you know the reason)

L.eage of Legends level of toxicity, calm down

Toxic masculinity

Toxic feminity

Toxic lgbtq traits

Toxic genderneutral People (yea these exist, these are the worst, you haven't hear them)

Toxic religious traits

Vegans (some Vegans are just naturaly toxic, if you happen to be Vegan, be healty abaut it, as you once promised

Porn bots

[Space lefth to put something else later, when i remember]

So anyways, now i will put what you are allowed to do and what not!

Can i sent an ask?

Sure! As long as you are respectfull i will apresiate some ask! Both to myself and to my characters (that im willing to introduce to this hellhole called tumblr)

Can i message you?

Yes you can but please keep your boundaries and keep it cool and not weird (like sendng d-picks, spam, some sexual related interactions, bulling me, trying to dox me etc)

Can i do a collab with you?

I wuld love to! But im currently unable to do collabs (i don't know how to do it)

Can you draw my character in your style?

Sure thing! But don't expect it to be the next day that you send your request, as i said once: i have a procrastination issue, so it will take a while for me to even finish 1 thing... sorry!

Can you animate me?

You have no idea how much i'd love to, but i have 0 to 5 knowledge of animation, it will be crusty and bad probably, but don't worry! I'll get better! I promise

Can you make some headcannons request?

YES! but i don't know a lot of things, latetly i have been doing some rainbow friends headcannons but these are going in the other blog (i'll move those in here) so if you ask me some headcannons of thsese murderous blorbos then i'll be most glad!

Can i sent you a pic?

Absolutly no, even if it is something completly normal, i don't trust anyone in this world, so please don't send me pics, i wont see them, i will errase them

Can i call you by some name?

Kiseki, Kiseki-San, misses Kiseki, san Kiseki, misses Kiseki-San, Kiseki-san-san, Misses misses kiseki, i culd keep on going

Can you make an ask box for your characters or for some characters in some AUs you have?

YES! IT WILL HAPPEN!!! just be patient, someday this will be big

So wait for it

I have another acaunt but this one is going to be the one were i publish content of mine and the other to put reblogs. It wuld be more organizared i will put the drawings, animations and headcannons i have done in there and will make more stuff in here! So be patient with me, im working in procrastination

Some day this will be big, so if you happen to be interested in my content then please follow me in this acaunt! And the other one too please! And i will be most gratefull for that

Wellp i gues this is all, i'll go to be lazy again now

K' bye

[the-pigeon]

hullooo pigeon!!! long time no see

idk what to ask actually but ill read anything you say hehe. whats your life been? what do you think about ctommys finale? any new fav streamers/yts?

also ive seen vin/voni pronouns, thats such a nice lil latinization of ukrainian pronouns :D real nice

i began noticing that it looks like a letter wth. i guess school attacked my memory with letter writing pattern that its too much for me to bear ig o(-(

(plz dont forget to tag me when you answer this lil semiletter :)

HIIIII HI HI HI IHIHII HI hello omg sniffs you like a dog sniffs new people omg i cant remember when we last spoke and i tried to dig thru my blog to find it but. tumblr search feature hates being functional obvs but anywayyyy hi hi hi hi i love letters i love your letter so here is my strange letter for you o7

my life has beeeen okay. i think. fully finished high school finally so im Moving On from that hellhole. my final graduation presentation night thing is this friday and then it is. over. forever.

and to be. honest. i haven't watched the ctommy finale 😭 idk if it's out of refusal bc of dream or becausre apparently it's bad. as i said i havent watched it so i dont know what happened in it but i've heard it's . bad. have u watched it? because. if so what do u think. is it bad as i've heard lmao

i dont think i have any. new fave streamers? at this point i've been one of those bench trio fans for so long i can't escape. i have gotten a lot more into like hermitcraft nd the life series side of things but i dont really watch all that many streams of it. i've used my prime sub on foolish tho if that counts as anything.

also also not really related but also kind of related (not that much) but i've also gotten into like dhmis and the quarry and also i watched the new wednesday series and as a goth i liked it :] also i've started making a lot of kandi bracelets so that's fun hehe

alsssoo thanks :D on the pronouns i mean. it started because i came out to my grandfather who mainly speaks ukranian so i had to explain how to use they/them and thus ! voni.

how have you been. hooow has. uni been. ur title says ur in uni what are you studying ? i applied for uni next year to do a physics major and creative writing minor but idk if i've gotten in yet sooo how knows. but how has you've been?

and that's my letter in return to you :D @spoiledlbleach

[beaubambabey]

Now that I've finished BG3, I have Thoughts

I had to turn my beautiful first Tav Mr. Robbie Roh-Tane aka the time I accidentally made Shadowheart her very own big brother and got too attached and made up a backstory where he went off to bard college to bring smiles to the children of Faerûn because he found joy and purpose in making his little sister laugh but came back to find his family home massacred and his family nowhere to be found which led him to a sad slippery slope where he used drugs to cope for decades until the nautiloid forced him into the Absolute's rehab program and then proceeded to role-play as this strange reunited sibling dynamic... into a mind flayer. which is so fucked up

Robbie aka Rhysander who I will proceed to call Rhys for the rest of this post was made to look pretty and convince people to not fight him. This meant he was Not Very Good At Not Dying which is Bad

Rhys and Astarion broke up after the brain went down because I didn't want to force Astarion to stay with a mind flayer who's slowly losing himself when he came into this relationship for a pretty boy half-elf that championed personal freedoms above all else and encouraged him to think about what he wanted. Which is Fucked

THE FACT. THAT IN A GAME WITH SO MANY CHOICES. IT CAME DOWN TO BECOMING A MIND FLAYER. OR LETTING THE ONLY HOPE OF AN ENSLAVED PEOPLE BECOME FOOD FOR A MIND FLAYER. OR MAKING SAID HOPE BECOME A MIND FLAYER. IS F U C K E D

LIKE. Fuck The Emperor man.

Why can't you manipulate him back this fucking sucks

He was LITERALLY BALDURAN HIMSELF. HE FOUNDED THIS LITTLE HELLHOLE. HE WAS A HERO ONCE AND HE FUCKED OVER THE PEOPLE WHO CARED ABOUT HIM IN THE SERVICE OF MORE ILLITHID POWER AND NOW YOU TOO CAN CONTINUE THE CYCLE YAY FUN FUN

Like yeah I know you can pretend you're still yourself after all this time even as a mind flayer and that you're not gonna make the same mistakes but like??? Y'all

I personally think it would be cool to have come to a compromise with The Emperor where he can eat as many Absolutist brains as he wants on his way up and we help him dominate the Netherbrain but Orpheus goes free but that's just me and my love of No Sacrifices Here Except Your Own Ego

Like honey. It's not my fault the Elder Brain evolved with the addition of an incredibly powerful magical artifact. That's just gonna happen whether we like it or not

I cried when Lae'zel thanked Rhys for his sacrifice. That felt so fucking meaningful and made it all worth it. For a while at least

Maybe I should've put more worms in my brain. Would I still have needed to go full illithid if I became part illithid with the Astral-Touched Tadpole? Much To Think About

It's really sweet that Halsin would still willingly kiss your squiddy face. I love him. Thanks, Daddy Halsin. May you and your nine cartloads of kids you adopted live a long and peaceful life

I cried every time someone hugged Rhys as a mind flayer. It must be such a lonely existence, becoming a monster and cutting off contact with the people you've come to care deeply for.

Shadowheart's ending where she and her parents build a little homestead with so many animals is so cute. She's so happy and delightful. I would become a squid a million times over to give that to her

In roleplay context, it's so bittersweet if you think about being reunited with your sister and parents only to have to stay away from them so you don't subject them to the monster you've become. They live their happy life together and you steer clear of it because you can't bring yourself to ruin it by staying long enough for the hunger to catch up to you. But when you come to the reunion party six months later, the sister you've searched for through the fugue state your loss put you in, the one you saw in every child you've saved, who fought by your side this whole time while you unwittingly mourned her, who you rebuilt your sibling relationship with during this adventure, finally gets to know the parents you got to know. Finally gets to live as herself and be happy and free. And she hugs you sweetly, in spite of your monstrous appearance. She got to have a big brother to protect her when it mattered most, and now she's grown enough to walk her own path in life. I couldn't be happier.

I ran out of inspiration points trying to dominate the brain like an IDIOT and couldn't feasibly convince Gale to NOT become a God. Poor Tara. Poor Mrs. Dekarios. Poor me for having to stare at Gale's chrome nipples. We will discuss this tragedy with Morena over tea.

I made sure to go back and do the Iron Throne rescue before fighting Ansur just to make Wyll into the Blade of Avernus so Karlach wouldn't die. And I'm happy with that decision. Seeing Karlach's face as she reports her findings and compliments your squiddy mug is so fucking sweet.

I was sobbing after we killed Gortash hearing about how her revenge just didn't feel worthwhile and how she was gonna die anyway and. I'm so glad she's still alive in this run

Talked with my buddy who romanced Wyll and made him Grand Duke and he said he made Karlach into a mind flayer and she was chill about it. Idk how to feel but it's nice there are options. Don't know if Rhys would let that happen since it's taking her freedom away and sacrificing her feels wrong but since I'm doing the Netherbrain fights again I'll see what I can do

I'm genuinely tempted to get the No Party Limit mod because it feels wrong to take people out for the final boss.

WHY DON'T WE HAVE ANY GOOD REACTIONS TO ORPHEUS PUTTING YOU ON BLAST FOR FUCKING THE EMPEROR

SERIOUSLY

"You fornicated with an illithid!" And nobody says shit? Not even your partner??? Fucked up

You can ask for one last kiss before the final boss. I didn't realize it would be the last kiss Rhys and Astarion shared

I'm still fucked up about that but. I'm glad to see him happy. My Radiant Hopeful ❤️

Lae'zel chose to go with Orpheus at the end. Didn't try to steal Rhys away from Astarion to fight in the war. Probably because Rhys turned squid. Sad

I'm so exhausted. But by the gods that was a good game.

[twistedwonderlandsimps]

Yuu Rosehearts & Grim

Welcome to this hellhole. You didn’t ask for it but you’re going to get it anyway. I haven’t slept yet and I am purely running on caffeine. I also feel like fist fighting someone. Come meet me in the McDonald’s parking lot at 3 am if you’re up for it. Anyway, enjoy whatever this is because I currently don’t have the capacity to regret making it, lmaooo. :D

===

It wasn’t long after meeting Riddle that Yuu decided to meet up with Headmaster Crowley to look for employment in the campus. Although they could go back to their own home, they decided wanting to stay in the Sage’s Island for now since they were quite unwilling to part with their younger brother. They wanted to bond with Riddle a bit more.

Their younger brother…

A soft smile made its way up on Yuu's face, their chest feeling warm and a rising sense of contentment overtaking their mind as they took the newest batch of pastry out of the oven and into the counter to let it cool. Grim, who had just recently arrived, perked up when he saw this and jumped onto said counter to try and swipe a slice of tart away. Of course Yuu, being familiar with their companion’s antics, immediately gently pushed his paw away.

“Fgna! What gives, Yuu!” Grim grumbled lightheartedly, looking hungrily at the tarts. He had to bat away Yuu’s hand when it rested on his head as Yuu said, “Yuu can’t have it, Grim. Those are for sale.”

Just then, one of the ghosts who worked in the cafeteria popped in the kitchen with a loud and cheerful greeting: "Mx. Rosehearts! Your tarts are selling faster than expected! The students love it! Is the next batch ready?" The ghost said as it approached closer and looked at the steaming tarts. They took in a deep breath and hummed pleasantly. "Mmm! It already looks wonderful! I’m sure it’s going to be as delicious as it looks."

That's right. Yuu got a job in the school cafeteria. They mostly made and sold pastries and desserts, though, rather than cooking the meals. It was their area of expertise, after all.

Yuu blinked in surprise when they heard this before a reddish hue dusted their cheeks as they registered what the ghost said to them. "T-They like it?”

Grim rolled his eyes at them, albeit teasingly. This action didn’t go unnoticed by Yuu who scowled, but their ears were flushed. “Oh! W-Well, of course they do! I only learnt from the b-best, after all! Mr. and Mrs. Clover's bakery were really popular back… um… at my previous hometown, you know. If it hadn’t been for them…" Yuu trailed off, mumbling. 

Yuu felt indebted to the Clover couple. It was because of them that Yuu had survived all these years and got to where they were right now. Running away with nothing in their name but the clothes on their back and a bag that could only hold so much of the things that they needed to survive hadn’t been easy for them.

Yuu had to constantly worry about where to find shelter, when they were going to eat their next meal, or find a source of clean water. Oftentimes, they would even have to go for days on end not being able to eat anything. It was always a risk, a gamble, of whether they were going to succumb today or live on for another day. The only thing that kept them going in their darkest times was the thought and the fear that accompanied it of leaving Grim alone. The world wasn't kind to monsters and Yuu would be damned if they left their first and only friend alone in such a cruel world.

Yuu had found Grim when they were hiking through the mountain, trying to find berries or fruits that were fit for human consumption. That was the time when they noticed a creature that was tucked away beneath a tall, towering tree. It looked like it was trying to hide itself against it.

Grim was severely injured at that time and was extremely hostile, heckles raised and hissing threateningly at Yuu. Despite the threat of being roasted alive by the unknown creature, for some reason Yuu had felt a connection with it. Perhaps it was a feeling of kinship? Or was it sympathy? They didn't know why but what they did know was that they couldn't just leave the creature out here all alone.

Even though Yuu had almost nothing with them aside from their rapidly decreasing food supply, they still gave most of it to Grim. He needed it more to grow healthier and stronger, as well as recover from his injuries, after all.

From that day on, the two were practically inseparable.

Yuu and Grim had strayed from place to place, never stopping and always finding ways to survive despite their circumstances. Most of the time they had to stay in the woods. With Grim being a monster and Yuu looking disheveled and dirty, most of the towns and cities they came across to would just either chase them away or immediately throw them out.

They had no choice but to live and try to survive in the wilderness. Since Grim was a monster, his stomach was tougher than humans so he could eat a lot of things that humans couldn’t and be full enough to not feel the pains of hunger. Yuu didn't have the same luxury, though, so they usually just had to grit their teeth and try to sleep it off.

When the hunger pangs was too much to bear and Grim noticed it (and he always did), the cat-like creature would temporarily disappear before returning to their makeshift home with a pitiful amount of food held between his maws. This usually accompanied an injury or injuries somewhere on his body.

Yuu knew that Grim stole the foods from nearby towns but they never said anything bad about this. They never condemned or get mad at him for stealing, or worry about what the people would think of them. Yuu was only worried about Grim…

"...Y-Y-You don't have to r-risk your life to get this for me, y-you know." Yuu would whisper, stuttering their words no matter how much they tried to stop it, trying to bandage Grim's injuries with what limited amount of first aid supplies they had with them while trying to stop their tears from flowing by how battered and beaten their one and only friend was. "Promise me you won't—you won’t do this a-again... Please… p-please…"

Grim would always promise Yuu to never get himself injured.

…

He was a liar…

… He always broke his promise…

Fortunately for them, things started to look up when they stumbled upon a bakery in a small town faraway that was on the verge of closing down and landed themselves a job as a baker after the last one quit due to the lack of customers. Their boss was a kind soul who didn’t care that Grim was a monster or that Yuu looked disheveled and unkempt.

Soon, the bakery slowly but surely started to attract more and more customers as the days passed that Yuu and Grim could finally sustain themselves. Grim even became the bakery's beloved mascot and the people absolutely loved him.

Yuu was grateful to their boss for their kindness, as well as to the Clover family for teaching them. Even at the cost of potentially getting into trouble with Mrs. Rosehearts had she ever found about Yuu learning these 'unnecessary things', the couple still secretly taught them how to bake and would even give them treats to cheer them up whenever they feel down.

"Yuu?" A very familiar voice sounded out, snapping Yuu out of their thoughts as Grim shoved his face in front of them.

"I—W-What--?" Yuu stuttered out, startled.

"The tarts already cooled off. Are you going to sell it or can I have all of it?" Grim eyed the tarts with a greedy expression on his face. Yuu shook their head in a doting manner at Grim who was practically drooling, before they picked up the trays and handed it over to ghost staff that took it gratefully and left.

"Hey!" Grim grumbled again, a dejected look on their face. “You’ve been baking all these tarts since earlier and you won’t even give me a bite. This is so unfair...” Yuu couldn't help but laugh at his expression.

"Hmm... Well, how about this," Yuu pretended to think, placing a hand under their chin as if contemplating. "Ah! I know! I'll bake a whole tart just for you, the great Grim!"

Grim paused for a moment, blinking, before his eyes twinkled. He perked up, “Woah! A whole tart?! Just for me?” He paused. “Wait, I have to do something first, right? What do I have to do in return?”

Yuu laughed at Grim's sharp intuition. He really knew them too well. They reached in their pocket and pulled out a small list, saying: "We're, uh, running out of ingredients unfortunately, so I'd appreciate it if you can head over to Sam’s real quickly."

Grim sighed, "Fggnaa... chores..." But he took the list anyway. "Can I have two whole tarts, then?"

"No, you only get one."

"But Yuuuu! I'm hungry!"

"Hmm... Well, you can have one whole tart then and a can of tuna from Sam."

"!!! Can I have five--"

"Two tuna cans, at most. You're going to give yourself indigestion."

"Bah!" Grim pouted but he quickly went back to his normal, cheerful self at the thought of eating not just two tuna cans but also a whole tart! Just for him and no one else’s!

He jumped down the counter with the grocery list and headed towards the exit, shouting: "I'll be back soon so make me the biggest and tastiest tart, alright Yuu?"

“Yes, yes…” Yuu chuckled. They stared at Grim’s figure until he was completely gone from their sight before Yuu went over to one of the ovens in the kitchen to take out a tart that was significantly much bigger than the other ones they made earlier. Grim may be small but he sure could eat a lot. Yuu wondered where all the food he ate go.

One of the ghost chefs poked their head in by the doorway and their eyes immediately landed on the tart. "Oh, so fast? And just in time, too! The tarts just sold out!" The ghost exclaimed but Yuu was quick to wave their hands.

"Ah, I'm sorry but, um, this one isn't for sale. I h-had to have Grim get me more ingredients from Sam. I'm afraid the customers will have to wait a- a little more." Yuu gave an unsure and sheepish smile to the ghost.

"Alright then, just call us when you have more!" The ghost said cheerfully before going away to help cater to the students in the cafeteria because of lunch rush.

Yuu turned their focus to the tart, picking up the piping bag and lining it on the pastry. They let their hands go to work as they hummed a merry tune. Nothing but the best for Grim, of course.

Seeing their brother as well as their best friend every day, the thought of bonding and making happy memories with each other, even the idea of making new friends in this place was just so exciting. What more could Yuu ask for in life?

After struggling for years and years, of endlessly experiencing hardship and pain, they could finally relax… they were happy and contented. At long last, everything was all right in the world and nothing could ever ruin this peace.

…Drip, drip, drip…

…

R-Right…?

[quokkacore]

with great power I [lee jeno]

summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack

warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric

song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare

word count: 10.5k

a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee​ for beta reading <3

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.

When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday. 

And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.

In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00. 

He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak. 

He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM] 

y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY 

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,

[7:52 AM] 

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear 

y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh

y/n: also ur literally never late 

y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid. 

The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me. 

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range. 

Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.

Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life. 

But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.

Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly. 

[7:57 AM] 

y/n: let me know when u get here !!!

No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.

The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took. 

After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School. 

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.” 

He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”

“The Bachelor?”

“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation. 

  A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”

Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”

“I, uh… ran a little.” 

You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”

“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”

The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement. 

The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.

You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”

You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.” 

He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon. 

“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”

Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking. 

"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored. 

San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him. 

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you. 

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”

“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry. 

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.” 

Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front. 

“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since. 

“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her. 

“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.

You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today. 

It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—

“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.

“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”

Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”

 “I don’t like her, Yeeun.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.

“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”

Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark,  Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.

“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”

“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”

“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.

“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken. 

“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”

“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”

Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”

The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.

“Fuck you, Huang.” 

Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”

The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club. 

"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.

"San Choi."

Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you. 

"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"

"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."

"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."

Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."

“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.

You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”

The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”

Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”

If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.

The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice. 

“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”

Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?” 

Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.” 

Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.

As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled. 

“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately. 

“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”

You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”

“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”

You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?” 

“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?” 

You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”

Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.

“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”

“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’. 

“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”

He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”

You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag. 

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.” 

He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch. 

Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy. 

Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time. 

 Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord. 

All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends. 

"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"

Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"

"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"

"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."

You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?" 

You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"

"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"

"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”

You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.

So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”

Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”

San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”

“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”

You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”

San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.

“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”

“Coming!” San yelled back.

“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”

 The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”

Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!” 

Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.

When you talk right to me 

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving 

You running back to me

You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months. 

Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung. 

He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung. 

And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history. 

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since. 

You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything. 

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.

The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration. 

Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to. 

It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel. 

Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.

When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face. 

He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also. 

To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college. 

To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing. 

Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.

“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!” 

Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.

"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"

"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."

Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss. 

That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either. 

Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"

Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only. 

This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters. 

Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.

"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked. 

"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."

Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"

"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."

Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.

“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”

“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”

“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”

Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.

“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—” 

 The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”

The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.

Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit. 

Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.

"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here." 

Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."

Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."

Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."

The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.

Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”

Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things. 

“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”

“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”

“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”

Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”

Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”

Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”

Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious. 

“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”

“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”

“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”

“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”

Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together. 

“Perfect.” 

They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.

After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.

Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things. 

Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.

“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed. 

Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.

“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?” 

The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!” 

Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.

“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.

"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”

“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”

Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”

Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”

Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.” 

Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”

Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”

“Jeno?” 

He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.

His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”

You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.” 

You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."

"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."

"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."

Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."

Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.

"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."

But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"

He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out. 

"So you left your keys."

Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."

You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry." 

Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me." 

Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change." 

Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult.  You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.

"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."

Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"

"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"

Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest. 

"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"

You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."

"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."

"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?" 

Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."

He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"

"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year." 

Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."

Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.

"Deal." 

You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."

The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist. 

On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.

Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether. 

When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.

“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly. 

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed. 

And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”

Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.

He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.

“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”

 “Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”

“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”

“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”

Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”

“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.” 

A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.

Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them. 

“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”

“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was. 

“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”

Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”

One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before. 

“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”

Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”

The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped. 

“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.

“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”

“Hand it over, then.”

That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.

“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”

In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him. 

“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered. 

“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”

“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”

Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came. 

The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground. 

The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!” 

So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.

When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths. 

Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault. 

He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station. 

As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could. 

He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.

What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.

[8:36 PM]

y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)

“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.

The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.

After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.

His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”

You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up. 

“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”

He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs​ @crescentjen​

[deniigi]

A fic from Boba’s POV as a babysitter seeing Din’s family dynamics isn’t self indulgent it’s indulgent to your readers - fuck, that sounds like the best, most hilarious thing ever?!? (With peppered in bits of Boba’s identity crisis/diaspora feels)

I say you release babysitter boba fic ;) It sounds hilarious

Ask and you shall receive, anons. Beware. It’s like 11k of world building lol.

(I will post here and not on Ao3 because I’m not ready for that level of commitment rn lol)

Title: in the plains of Zeffo

Summary:

“I don’t like him,” Karren told Din.

“Concurred,” Din said.

“Ad’ika,” the Armorer scolded.

“I will not be shamed into liking him, either,” Din asserted.

“Din,” Karren whined.

“I’ll consider coming home if it means there will be no space for Bojzka,” Din said.

(Din’s original finder’s old crush on the Armorer is rekindled after he helps her reunite with Din. He tries to win her favor, but keeps getting tripped up by Din who knows she’s not interested. Boba Fett’s POV.)

---------------------------------------------------------------------

There was little more entertaining than watching Djarin snap.

Boba ten years ago would have spat at the very idea that such meagre fare would suit his humor, but he was getting old, man. You had to take what you could get, and Djarin’s bared rage was a sight to behold.

Currently, he was locked in combat with Urro Bojzka. The Urro Bojzka. The one who even Boba had heard of, growing up on Kamino.

Dad had had some pointed feelings about Mr. Bojzka. Mainly, they revolved around how it was unfair that everyone called him an opportunistic traitor when Bojzka continued to exist and thrive in the universe at large, but Dad also had more specific feelings about Bojzka that bordered on jealousy.

Urro Bojzka was said to be the ideal Mandalorian man.

He was big. He was strong. He sounded like he’d smoked six different kinds of spice for forty years, and nothing and no one could take him down.

The cherry on top was that he was notorious for rescuing kids. The man had snatched nearly two hundred up out of smoking ruins and battlefields. A good twenty or thirty had become foundlings and then Mandalorians themselves, and counted among their number now, to Bo-Katan’s absolute glee, was their sweet, precious Din Djarin.

They should have known. Din was the epitome of Mandalorian; it figured that Urro Bojzka himself would have picked him up as a child.

Din however, had little appreciation for this fact beyond that which was only polite. He made it very clear that he’d already thanked Bojzka for taking him out of his childhood hellhole. He’d done that bare minimum and so no one could ask anything more of him.

Bojzka had other plans.

It turned out that Urro Bojzka had a thing for Din’s covert’s Armorer. God, did he have a thing. And not only did he have a thing, but he’d had it for decades.

Apparently, a thousand years ago, when Boba and Din and all the others around them had still been rolling around on dirt floors trying to eat beetles and shit, Bojzka had attempted to court Din’s Armorer. He’d gone as far and wide as a young Mando could. He’d tried flowers, perfume, credits, displays of strength and courage. He’d tried gifts of food and offers of travel. He’d even stooped so low as to read a book.

None of it had gone well for him. And that was probably because Din’s Armorer had recently proven herself to be no less than one of the heiresses of the Katzkai clan.

The Renda Bears. Those people were hard-fucking-core.

When Bo-Katan found out that Din’s ‘Goran’ was, in fact, Nomri Katzkai, the second daughter of Lanlee Katzai and the official apprentice of Fii Katzkai, the imperial Armorer himself, she threw up her hands and declared all endeavors hopeless now.

Din was one of them; he just didn’t know it. And his buir, who had removed herself from her family to be even more hardcore than anyone would have thought possible, didn’t seem overly excited to start explaining shit to him anytime soon.

So here they were. With Din about to kill one of the most famous war heroes in recent Mandalorian history over a crush that wouldn’t quit.

Bojzka smiled at him with dark eyes with scars through both of his eyebrows.

“Just a message,” he lobbied. “One letter.”

Boba would’ve fucked him. Yeah, why not? Just look at him.

“She’s busy,” Din said. “You’ll have to submit it to Eegang Quodo. That’s E-e-g-a—”

“Yeah, see. Here’s the thing, kid. This letter’s gonna be kinda personal, if you catch my drift—”

“Q-u-o—”

“—probably not great for the eyes of anyone who ain’t, you know, in on this whole relationship—”

“—d-o. He’s usually busy, too. So you probably should submit it to Paz, instead. He’ll lose it for you forever. That’s P-a-z—”

Fennec hid a razor-sharp grin behind a clenched fist. She flashed it at Boba.

‘I love him’ she mouthed, pointing at Din’s hiked-up shoulders. Even his cape seemed to have gone stiff in Bojzka’s presence.

“Din, honey. Listen to me,” Bojzka crooned. “I know you’re protective of your mama, but—”

“She’s not my mother. Don’t you fucking dare call her that, you hulking piece of—”

“Ah-ah-ah. You’re not listening. Come on. Chin up. Ears open.”

Bojzka tapped at the bottom of Din’s helmet like a CO with a teenage recruit, and Fennec just about screamed when Din went completely still and silent.

Bo-Katan met Boba’s gaze out of the corner of her eye. She mimed a syringe. Boba shook his head. If this fucker got bit, he deserved whatever infection it brought.

“Atta boy,” Bojzka said to Din’s rigid silence. “Here’s how it is: your mama and me go way, way back. And you know, after your touching reunion the other week, she even went and had a drink with me, and we got to talkin’ and started to reconnect, the old folks do. And I could read her body language, Din-Din. She wants a man. And that man’s me. So instead of actin’ like a child over all this, why don’t we—”

“She wanted Naseem,” Din snapped. “But Naseem died. Twenty years ago, he died. You just wear similar boots.”

Get ‘im, Djarin. Get ‘im.

“I—who?” Bojzka snapped.

“Naseem,” Din repeated like he was an idiot. “Traditional, bantha-sized, green armor. He worked all the time to keep all the kids in the covert fed.”

Bojzka processed this.

“Naseem what?” he asked stiffly.

“He’s dead,” Din said. “And Hajka left. So no. Goran needs neither a man or a woman, and especially not you. What she needs is a break and for Karren to stop fighting people on sight.”

Bojzka backtracked like a champ.

“Karren, that’s her youngest, right?” he asked. “Well, I bet Karren could use some sisters. I bet he’s lonely over there on, uh.”

“Zeffo,” Din gritted out. “And no. He’s not. He has three sisters. One of which is still at the covert, terrorizing him left and right.”

Even Bo-Katan could only empathize so much with Bojzka, war hero or nah.

“Why’re you all up in arms, Din? What’d I do to you?” Bojzka finally asked. “Don’t you want your buir to be happy?”

Din’s shoulders finally came down from his helmet.

“Of course, I do,” he said. “Which is why if you set so much as a toe on Zeffo, I’m taking both of your knees with me to Yavin.”

 --

Any parent would have been proud to have Din as their child. He took family honor to a level that even the Katzkai clan would have had a hard time sniffing at.

He had to have learned this from the wayward heiress. Although, if Boba was honest, he didn’t really think that the wayward heiress was all that wayward.

She’d come to visit Din on Tatooine. She was short and stocky and not terribly interested in the court or anyone outside of Din.

She wasn’t nearly as hostile as Bo-Katan expected either. She didn’t appear to love anything that she was looking at, no, but Din had explained that that was mostly because she wasn’t really a fan of him having become Mand’alor to start with.

When she came to visit, anyways, she was far more interested in getting a good fuss in to give herself peace of mind that Din was okay. That way she could then go back to dealing with the apparently endless series of crises at the new covert.

She was a great parent in that way. She even brought along her youngest, so that he could see his big brother.

That kid was fuckin’ adorable. Maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. Barely, barely, barely in armor. He was strapped into his leathers so tight, he looked like he was stuffed with straw.

He had medium-brown skin with yellow undertones and huge, nearly-black eyes. Coarse black hair poured into his face and curled around his ears—and if he thought he was going to stuff all that in a helmet one day, he had another thing coming.

He bopped after his buir when they entered the palace and stopped occasionally to stare up in awe at the palace’s high ceilings. Upon realizing that he’d lost his escort, he scampered along to catch up and did the whole thing again and again until buir had enough and snatched his hand.

He didn’t like that. He was fourteen-fifteen years old. He was too big for hand-holding, buir.

Never too old to be ignored, though.

“Goraaaaaan.”

“Hush,” the Armorer told him. “Keep up.”

He was handed off to Boba outside Din’s personal quarters, mostly because he was making such a fuss at the Armorer that she began contemplating leaving him at the palace forever. Din intervened and the kid latched onto him instead until Din convinced him that he’d be available talk just as soon as he and their buir were done speaking.

The kid’s name was Karren.

He and Boba were now best friends.

“—so Goran said, ‘I’m not having that idiot in my rooms.’ But then Eegang said, ‘we already have Paz in these rooms,’ and you’re not supposed to laugh, Mr. Fett, but we all did because we’re all stupid. So we had to do like, a thousand chores for eavesdropping.”

“So she’s not into him, then?” Fennec clarified. “He’s really into her, you know.”

“Of course, I know,” Karren lamented. “But Goran’s picky and the last person she was all close with was Hajka and we’re not allowed to talk about her anymore or Din’ll make you do two hundred push-ups while he watches.”

Amazing. Say more about Din’s oldest-child syndrome, little one.

“No, I like Din,” Karren sighed. “Now that Digo’s gone, he’s even nicer.”

Oh?

“What happened to Digo?” Boba asked as Bo-Katan joined them in curiosity.

“Digo’s a jerk is what happened,” Karren huffed. “She wanted Goran to give over the forge and join the elders, but Goran isn’t even that old. So when she said ‘no,’ Digo got mad and said that the only foundling Goran respects is Din. Which is bullshit because everyone knows that Goran has always been the nicest with Digo and Nasif—she made all sorts of excuses for them, Mr. Fett, like when they went out and got caught stealing parts like Jawas, she did four whole hunts to raise their bail. When Din gets in trouble, he takes care of it himself. He doesn’t ask Goran to do that kind of thing. And me and Shimmol just don’t get in that kind of trouble to start with—but no. Digo had to be all ‘if you don’t treat us as equals, then we’re gonna leave and start our own forge.’”

“No kidding,” Fennec said. “So they left?”

“Yeah, both of them ‘cause Nasif does anything Digo tells her to,” Karren said, kicking his feet. “And good riddance.”

Too many sisters, this one had. Boba felt for him.

“So Goran’s still recovering from that betrayal, I take it?” he asked.

Karren frowned and chewed a lip.

“I dunno,” he admitted. “No one tells me anything. I think that Goran’s been more worried about Din than them after all that happened. We thought he got crunched by the jedi—or at least I thought he got crunched. Paz says that Jedis compact Mandalorians into cubes of armor and Din’s got the best armor.”

Do not laugh at the child. Do not laugh at the child.

“I don’t think Jedis crunch Mandalorians,” Bo-Katan said generously, having snuck into the bare antechamber while everyone was distracted with the kid’s story.

“Well, I do,” Karren countered, with zero conception of who he was talking to.

Fennec beamed.

“Do you like this Urro guy?” she asked.

“No,” Karren answered immediately. “He’s sent Eegang four messages and they’re all gross.”

Yep.

It was gonna be a late puberty for this one.

“What makes them gross?” Bo-Katan asked.

“The mush,” Karren said expertly. “Bojzka calls Goran ‘Nomri.’ That’s a bad word at home. No one says that word. Goran is ‘Goran.’ The only people who call her anything else are the elders.”

“And you and your siblings, no?” Bo-Katan asked.

Karran cocked his head at her.

“Yeah, and ‘buir’ I guess, if we aren’t in trouble,” he said.

Bless him.

“Are you in trouble a lot?” Bo-Katan asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. I got a temper or something.”

“Is Din in trouble?”

“With buir? No, not like me and Shimmol. He’s too old to be in that kind of trouble. His trouble’s like ‘help, I fell a hundred feet off a cliff’ kind of trouble. He gives Goran indigestion, but she can’t make him reflect on falling a million feet out of a ship—Eegang says that’s called ‘rehashing trauma.’”

The covert on Zeffo sounded like it was holding itself together through sheer force of will and that alone.

Where did Boba sign up? It sounded like a fantastic experiment to pass the time.

“Are you a foundling, Karren?” Boba asked.

The kid lit up.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been with Goran for five years now. Six in a few months. My dad’s a piece of shit. He killed my mom, and Goran got him arrested for that and for what he did to my auntie.”

Well, fuck. That explained a lot.

“And you like it there—on Zeffo?” Bo-Katan asked.

Karren shrugged.

“It’s cold and wet,” he said. “I liked Nevarro better. Din was home more on Nevarro.”

Awww.

“Aren’t you proud of Din for becoming Mand’alor?” Bo-Katan asked as gently as she could manage.

Karren’s frown eased up finally.

“No,” he said. “Din should just come home. He doesn’t need to be Mand’alor or married to some jedi. He should just come home. It’s stupid; his foundling should have stayed with us from the start. We always have room for more foundlings. I dunno why he had to leave with his foundling at all.”

Bo-Katan sat back and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “If it helps, I think he just wants to come home, too.”

“So let him,” Karren blurted out to her.

Tough tits, kid. That wasn’t how it worked.

“I think we should perhaps focus on one thing at a time,” Bo-Katan said. “What do you think, Fett?”

What did Boba think?

Boba thought that he had a great idea to distract this kid from missing his big brother.

 ---

Karren was perhaps a little too small still to reach the brakes in the crawler, but you know what? So was Fennec sometimes and she did just fine.  

“Gas,” Boba said, pointing. “Neutral. Brake. Park.”

“Gas, neutral, brake, park,” Karren repeated to him with his hands on the wheel and his knobbly wrists peeking out from the gap between his gloves and his leather braces.

Bo-Katan had refused to be present or responsible for this. Fennec had told them to wait while she went and took a shot first. ‘For safety’ she said.

“What’s neutral for?”

“You’re about to tell me,” Boba said, adjusting the rear view mirrors down to kid-height.

The sound of Fennec throwing herself onto the back of the crawler rattled through to their compartment.

“That’s our signal,” Boba said. “You ready to jam?”

“Jam?” Karren asked him.

Hm.

Punch it?

“Punch what?”

The fuck kind of slang did they use at the covert?

“Rock?”

“OH. Yeah, I’m ready.”

There we go. Onward march then.

 ---

An hour later, Din sighed with Karren whining under his arm.

“There is a reason he’s not trained yet, Fett,” Din said as Karren started chomping on the bunched-up flightsuit in his elbow.

The Armorer pressed both palms into the forehead of her helmet.

The crawler had perhaps seen better days. But it had also seen worse days, and Fennec was still going through little loops of cackling at the memory of having to chase after its open tailgate. Boba didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. The kid had done amazingly well for his first time at the wheel.

“I’m leaving all of you,” Karren grated out, trying miserably to escape Din’s elbow-prison. “I want to be Mr. Fett’s foundling.”

Bless him.

“You don’t,” Din told him forcefully. “Fett can’t handle a foundling.”

Ay, Boba would drink to that. He was happy to be a foundling-sitter and borrower, though.

“Buir,” Karren pleaded.

“You make me tired, child,” the Armorer told him. “Say goodbye to vod.”

“NO.”

Din sighed. The Armorer sighed. Karren, in a beautiful 180, latched onto Din’s ribs again.

“Come hooooooome,” he pleaded with Din.

“I caaaaaaan’t,” Din drawled back at him in a delightfully uncharacteristic tone.

“These people don’t need you. We need you. Shimmol took your bed and if you don’t take it back, she’s gonna keep it.”

Din’s shoulders dropped.

“I told Shimmol that she could take my bunk, Karren,” he said. “I’m not using it—”

“BUT YOU COULD BE.”

Boba took it back. He could take on a foundling. Fuck it, why not? This one was great.

“Come here,” Din said, dragging the kid up to his toes. He knocked the front of his helmet against Karren’s forehead with enough force that the bump was noticeable. That made the kid shut up and stand up straight on his own volition again.

“Soon,” Din told him forcefully. “Behave for buir.”

“Promise,” Karren demanded.

“Ehn.”

“Din, promise.”

“I dunno, kid. I’ve got a husband and all these damn kids to worry about.”

“Bring them. All of them.”

“No room,” Din said without missing a beat. “You have no idea how much space the husband needs to thrive.”

“Well, if you don’t come, then Urro’s gonna try to move in,” Karren snapped.

Din actually paused at that. The Armorer shook her helmet.

“Territorialism becomes neither of you,” she said. “If Urro wishes to join our covert, then we will treat him as we treat any other who wishes to.”

Din’s helmet seemed to squint at her. Karren glared outright.

“I don’t like him,” he told Din.

“Concurred,” Din said.

“Ad’ika,” the Armorer scolded.

“I will not be shamed into liking him, either,” Din asserted.

“Din,” Karren whined.

“I’ll consider coming home if it means there will be no space for Bojzka,” Din said.

“Carry on with your work and give my best to the jedi and the child,” the Armorer said with an air of dismissal. “Come, Karren. Thank you three for looking after him. Apologies for the vehicle. Come.”

Boba missed that kid already.

 --------

Bojzka, Boba had to say, really had no shame and he could almost appreciate that. Either that, or Din’s buir was a catch that the rest of them were failing to appreciate.

“How bad can it be?” the guy mused at Din’s stiff, furious hands mere days after the Armorer and Karren’s departure. “It’s a helmet, right? You can take it off with the people who matter, no?”

“We do not take it off,” Din said from between clenched teeth.

“Right, I got that. But there are exceptions for kids and spouses,” Bojzka said. “Or did I misread that part?”

Din was going to start shaking at any minute now. Bo-Katan assigned Boba the task of making sure he didn’t commit War-hero-homicide while she went off to find a calming device. It was only polite. It wasn’t Bojzka’s fault after all that he’d come in right after a tense meeting with a dissident group from Mandalore itself that made even Bo-Katan’s jaw jump.

“I think the rule is more important than the exceptions here,” Boba pointed out on Din’s behalf. “Joining the Children of the Watch isn’t something to take lightly.”

Din pointed at him wordlessly. Bojzka lazily followed the finger and then pointedly ignored Boba.

“What I’m hearing is that if we marry first, nothing changes,” he said.

Din’s index finger curled in with the rest of his knuckles until it was a fist.

“She is not looking to marry,” he said.

“What, so you speak for her now?”

“She is not looking to marry.”

“I can repeat things, too. Wanna see? You don’t speak for Nomri, Din.”

Boba was getting the feeling that Ms. Katzkai sort of did let Din speak for her in these types of situations. He was, after all, her oldest. And it sounded like he was the most loyal of her foundlings, too. If she shared anything personal with anyone besides her second in command, then it was going to be Din. That was just how these things worked.

“Did you call Eegang?” Din asked.

“I did,” Bojzka said. “He’s not especially helpful, I have to say. He keeps sending my missives back to me with grammar corrections.”

No. No. Keep it in, Boba. Keep it stoic.

“Eegang is the second CO at the covert,” Din said. “If you won’t take my word for it, then you’ll take his.”

Bojzka arched a fucked-up eyebrow.

“Eegang, the same guy who is allegedly secretly married to his partner? That Eegang?” he asked.

Din balked. Boba felt like electricity had just rocketed through him.

“Eegang is—” Din started.

“Nomri told me about him,” Bojzka said off-handedly. “She seems to think that he’s bitten off more than he can chew with taking on his last kid.”

“Eegang—”

“Something about baby being blind? Funny, did you not think that she trusted me enough to talk about her people?”

Any more of this and steam would start rising from the lip of Din’s helmet.

Thankfully, Bo-Katan returned with the jedi, AKA the calming device. Skywalker even came equipped with Grogu. They both appeared very confused and innocent, what with Skywalker drowning in his formal robes. They looked like they were going to absorb Grogu at any moment.

A+ distraction work, Kryze. Well done making yourself useful.

“Who’s Eegang?” Skywalker asked.

The line pulled taut across Din’s shoulders began to loosen.

“A comrade,” he said sharply in Bojzka’s direction.

“Is he nice?” Skywalker asked. Grogu chirped at him and resumed trying to dig into his multitude of collars.

“Very nice,” Din confirmed, staring deep into Bojzka’s eyes.

“He’s got foundlings, too?” Skywalker asked.

“Two,” Din confirmed. “Who he adores. Regardless of all challenges.”

Ah. It wasn’t just Eegang Din was protective of. It was the baby. Bojzka had really stuck his foot into that one.

“I’m sure the foundlings are fine,” Bojzka said. “It was just Nomri’s concern that—”

“Stop calling her that in my presence,” Din said. “In fact, let’s drop the whole thing now.”

 --------

Boba wanted to meet secretly-married Eegang. He sounded like he had a rich interior life. Din gave him a strong look and said that if the Armorer had left the covert, Eegang would not. One of them had to be there at all times.

Bo-Katan asked what Eegang’s speciality was.

Surprise, surprise: it was diplomacy.

Kryze was now invested. She followed Din around on his heels and suggested that if the Armorer gave words to Eegang to deliver during a formal meeting with the Mand’alor, then Bojzka might finally get the picture that Katzkai wasn’t interested in him.

Din thought about that.

He asked if this was not just a ploy for Boba and Bo-Katan to rally his covert comrades against him.

And it honestly wasn’t until he phrased it like that.

 -----------

Eegang was tall, sea-green, and in Bojzka’s face without so much as a by-your-leave.

“Three tests,” he threatened Bojzka with a baby on his hip. “One: stop sending transmissions. Two: get Elder Fayrz to approve your presence. Three: make even one of Goran’s foundlings like you. If you pass all three, your admission will be taken into consideration.”

The baby was very pink with curly hair so pale it was almost white. Its blue-gray eyes moved rapidly back and forth as it cuddled into its buir’s teal armor. Bojzka glanced from it to Eegang’s chipped helmet.

“Where did you find him?” he asked.

“Please give confirmation of your understanding,” Eegang said mechanically.

“He’s kinda cute.”

“Please give confirmation of your understanding.”

“Are you a droid or somethin’?”

“Please give—”

“Alright, alright. Fuck. This is confirmation of my understanding.”

“Excellent. This conversation is over,” Eegang said. “It is your responsibility to contact the elder and earn the approval.”

Bojzka jerked.

“Wait, what?” he said. “How am I supposed to do that if y’all won’t even let me through the door?”

Eegang’s helmet tipped so daintily to the side that Boba could have shed a tear.

“That sounds like a you-problem,” Eegang said.

 -----------

Eegang thereafter blocked Bojzka out of his mind and heart. He introduced himself with a dipping motion to Kryze and Boba that probably would have been more dramatic if he’d opted to wear a cape, which he did not. He revealed himself to be exceedingly polite and very fond of Din, though—if the gentle armor tapping and the use of the word ‘little brother’ was anything to go by. Din was usually receptive to gestures like that, Boba had learned, but not this time.

No, no. Din cared not for his ‘big brother.’ He cared only for the attention of Eegang’s baby.

“His name is Mesa,” Eegang explained after Din had kidnapped said baby. He introduced Mesa to Grogu who was stationed nearby, stuffed in the sleepy jedi’s shirt this time. . Grogu waved from Skywalker’s chest, but Mesa didn’t register the motion.

“His grandmother was quite ill, and it was her dying wish to see the child placed into the care of someone trustworthy. I have to admit, though, I may have made the decision a little rashly,” Eegang hummed as he watched Grogu lean as far as he could out of Skywalker’s clothing to try to make contact with his fellow foundling.

“Is he your first?” Bo-Katan asked.

Eegang winced.

“No, uh. I’ve got another,” he said. “She’s a huge fan of certain someones.”

“Me,” Din said without hesitation.

“And Paz,” Eegang said. “Which is a deadly combination.”

“She will be a mighty warrior,” Din informed Mesa and Skywalker. Skywalker twitched awake and didn’t understand anything that was happening. He noticed the baby, cooed, and waved with his gloved hand.

“She’s declared this one goat her nemesis and I cannot—I cannot—get her to just leave it alone,” Eegang said.

“A goat clan in the making,” Din said with approval.

“I’m hearing unnecessary commentary,” Eegang said without looking at him. “Please rephrase or shut up.”

Din seemed to gloat at the scolding. Skywalker glanced between him and his tall, teal comrade. He made his move and carefully came in to extract baby Mesa from Din’s arms to add him to his ever-growing collection. Grogu cooed again, closer now. He offered Mesa a hand, and this time, Mesa perked up and tried to grab at it clumsily.

“You manage the covert in the Armorer’s absence?” Bo-Katan asked Eegang. “You must be very dedicated to the Children of the Watch.”

“Define ‘manage’ and then ‘dedicated,’” Eegang said. “I prefer ‘accidentally charged with responsibility one too many times’ and ‘in too deep to turn back now.’”

“He’s being humble,” Din said. “Eegang has brokered peace between our covert and locals on numerous occasions.”

Eegang’s shoulders started to raise.

“Stop telling people that, they’re going to expect things from me,” he said, then popped back up like flipped switch. “Oh, I totally forgot why I even came. Jedi?”

Skywalker looked up from the conference of baby talk happening in his arms all wide-eyed, as though he’d been caught in the act of stealing imperial property.

“We did not welcome you into our covert,” Eegang said, “You must allow us to present you with a gift of welcome and entry.”

Oho. Very formal. Boba folded his arms and watched Skywalker for his reaction.

“A what?” Skywalker asked.

 -------

Bojzka was somewhat justifiably upset at the double standard going on here.

Skywalker was a jedi and yet welcomed into the covert with open arms and no admission requirements. He was, in fact, measured against his will for a set of armor. This was what Din’s buir had actually been after when she’d sent Eegang along to say hi.

Boba found that he enjoyed the reciprocation of ulterior motives that they were getting from Din’s covert. Kryze had never been happier. This was a game that she knew how to play.

“Wait no, hold up,” Bojzka interrupted. “I deserve a chance. Din, at least give me the name of one of your siblings so I can track them down with the elder.”

Din didn’t want to; there were foundlings happening and another meeting soon, but eventually even he had to give the guy something.

An honorable battle required at least two willing bodies.

 -----------

Din and Karren’s remaining sibling at the covert’s name was Shimmol. According to Din, Bojzka had next to no chance of gaining her favor because she did not leave the forge and therefore Bojzka had no access to her. Eegang corrected Din and said that Shimmol did, in fact, leave the forge, but never on her own volition.

She was preferred the dark. She hated social interaction.

To circumvent that, the Armorer had refused to induct her into the trade until she proved herself able to coexist with others. But Shimmol was eighteen, that fun age where no incentive or punishment was effective and digging your heels in was far more preferable to doing a damn thing your elders mentioned.

She’s announced that very weekend that she was officially becoming a recluse. Her present aspiration in life was apparently now to become a forge spider.

Bojzka, along with everyone else, had no idea how to receive this information. Kyrze took it upon herself to pat Bojzka on the shoulder and tell him to start with the elder. He might actually have some luck that way.

 -------

It took two weeks for Bojzka to re-emerge from whatever hellhole he’d had to walk a tightrope across to locate the covert’s elder Fayrz. He climbed in through Din’s personal quarters’ window and interrupted him and the Jedi in a moment of infrequent intimacy.

The sound of a body being throw over a bannister had a special kind of thud to it. Boba was up on out of his quarters in an instant.

Din flung Bojzka’s helmet after him. Skywalker had the grace to cover Djarin’s face with his shirt and walk him back into the room before anyone caught sight of it, telling Boba and Fennec, who had also emerged from her bed, prepared for drama, that all was fine. There was just a misunderstanding.

His bare torso was covered in scars. Boba found himself somehow surprised and impressed as the jedi unsuccessfully wrangled his furious husband back in the direction of bed.

He and Fennec peeked over the banister to see what had become of Bojzka. He was fine.

Fennec informed Boba that she was claiming part of his bed ‘in case anything else good happened’ since he was closer.

 -----

In the morning, Din was in marginally better spirits. Skywalker was to be found at his side, walking backwards and tripping over his cloak every four paces. He truly knew how to hit all Din’s ‘endeared’ buttons. If not to the earnestness and the near-miss of a disaster on the stairs, it would have looked like manipulation.

Bojzka attempted to rectify the peace by breaking into the court through one of the windows high up on the wall outside the second floor’s conference room.  This time, to ensure that he had Din’s full attention, he removed the jedi from the equation. Or he tried to anyways.

The jedi, in a split second, decided that, all joking aside, today, he would not be moved. His green saber managed to glow even in the sunlight pouring in to the hall.

“Do not touch,” he ordered, with both feet planted and Din and Grogu securely at his back.

Bojzka cocked his head at the saber pointed right at his nose.

“That’s a fun trick,” he said.

“Do not touch,” Skywalker repeated. “Me, him, or the child.”

“I’ll think about it,” Bojzka said. “Stand down before you regret it.”

“Luke,” Din said testily. “He’s not worth it.”

“Make me regret it,” Skywalker said to Bojzka.

Bojzka’s eyes widened slightly in interest. He used the back of his wrist to try to nudge the saber’s tip away and snapped his hand away from the burn.

“Do you expect me to be afraid of you, jedi?” he asked, trying to play it off.

Skywalker’s eyes reflected the light of his saber.

“Ask him what the glove’s for,” Fennec called from the far hall. Bojzka scoffed. Skywalker didn’t move.

“What happened to your hand?” Bojzka asked.

“My father cut it off,” Skywalker said. “But not to worry, I got a new one. Now step back. Sir.”

Bojzka didn’t move for a long time.

“Does it feel good to walk in the presence of these people?” he asked. “Is it a kink for you the way it was for your master?”

Boba had officially lost the plot. These were old politics now. Kryze would know what Bojzka was talking about, if only she deigned to come out from wherever she was hiding, which she wouldn’t. Of course.

“Does it offend you? My presence here?” Skywalker asked back without emotion.

“It doesn’t,” Bojzka said.

“I’m glad. That’s very convenient for me. I’d feel terrible if you bled out on these tiles,” Skywalker said. “So move.”

And goddamn. The mountain finally yielded to the sky.

 -------

Skywalker spent the rest of the day on high alert, with one hand on the hilt of his saber and his full concentration tied up with making fierce eyes into the palace’s corners to keep Bojzka at bay. It was really something to see. Din looked about ready to lay his fingers on his heart and swoon, and that was more than fair. If Boba’s spouse threatened to kill a man for looking at him wrong, he’d be touched too.

Fennec told Boba that she’d protect him from a man the size of a bantha but no larger, and it just didn’t have the same kind of ring.

She apologized and he told her it was fine. It was just in the delivery--and also, he’d murder anyone so blinked at her wrong, too.

She was pleased. Boba was glad they were on the same page.

“Let’s go find Kryze to negotiate,” Fennec said, “I need to know why Old Faithful’s back.”

 --------

Kryze’s commanding voice wrang out of Bojzka the real reason for his presence. The truth of the matter was that, War Hero aside, he was having a hell of a time getting the covert elder to grant him a second look.

Din told him that that was the point. Elder Fayrz was like that all day, every day and he’d change for no body, spiritual or physical. He bothered people when he wanted to bother them, and the rest of the time, he liked to pretend he was senile. He only really ever showed up if someone was buying a round or their life was in the balance.

Skywalker said that he sounded a lot like his late master.

Din agreed and said that Elder Fayrz had dedicated his life to two things: the covert children and fungi. Somehow, he made those two interests overlap. Din recalled being twelve and being taken out on a ‘mission’ by the old man who had informed him that he required his nose.

Elder Fayrz had no sense of smell. For a man with a fungi interest, he called this ‘very dangerous business indeed.’

Kryze demanded to know if all the weirdest Mandalorian elders still living had congregated at Din’s cohort which he quickly confirmed. Bojzka, however, demanded to know what would make this elder look him in the eye.

Din told him to go find a deathbed and lay on it.

He remembered belatedly to add ‘nearby Elder Fayrz’ to that statement.

 ----------

After about a month of this kind of back and forth, the Armorer decided that she’d had enough. She did not come to the Dune Sea. She sent a missive to Din informing him that he was coming home.

‘To talk,’ she said.

Boba vaguely remembered Karren saying something along the lines of ‘Din doesn’t get into trouble anymore,’ and was pleased to find that that was not the case. Din already knew what awaited him at his home covert and anyone with slightly more than a rock for a brain could see that it wasn’t going to be hugs and kisses.

Bojzka volunteered to accompany Din as a guard when the jedi made himself conveniently unavailable. Kryze and Boba flipped a coin while Din resisted stabbing him, and of course Boba won. Kryze flipped it again to be sure, and Boba told her sweetly that he’d send her a postcard.

“Have fun with the schmucks lounging around this place,” he gloated at Bo-Katan’s rolling shoulders.

She gave him two naughty fingers.

Whatever, girl. Sucks to suck. Bye, bye, now. Come on, Fennec. There’s adventure to be had.

 ---------

It was a ways to the new covert on Zeffo. Several hours, in fact, many of which were spent playing ‘I spy’ with Fennec while Bojzka gritted his teeth and asked them if they were always like this.

Fennec got Din to join in at that comment.

Eventually they ran out of white dwarfs and capes to identify and settled down into silence until the ship declared landing to be imminent.

Karren remembered Boba and the second he set foot inside the curiously constructed covert entrance. The kid came hurtling up to tackle him and wrap arms around his middle. It was endearing. Boba checked the doors to see if a guard would notice a kidnapping.

Fennec reminded him of child-based expenses. Her wisdom was invaluable as usual.

Karren scrambled away from Boba and, for a moment, made like he was going to attach himself to Din’s armor, but instead wriggled past Din to go tearing down the hallway. He skidded, crashed, and then clambered into a different room at the dead end of what appeared to be a row of barracks. Seconds later, Eegang exploded from one of the rooms adjacent wearing no armor but his helmet. He flung himself through the same doorway Karren had vanished through.

Din tilted his head.

“It’s fine,” a voice said behind them.

Their small party turned to see a woman wearing a cool purple helmet with only her flakvest on. Eegang’s pale baby was sat on her hip, pawing at her chest, trying to find purchase in the vest.

“Sotra,” Din greeted.

“Welcome back, brat-child,” Sotra said. “We missed you.”

This had to be Eegang’s secret-wife; unless she’d stolen that gurgling foundling in the night or something.

“Electrical?” Din asked, pointing at the far room.

“Loft,” Sotra said. “There’s hay, so of course all the kids have to be in it.”

“Just hay?” Din asked.

“And goats,” Sotra said.

Ah.

“We raise goats now?” Din asked.

“Oh, no, no,” Sotra said, sashaying past him towards the room her husband had abandoned, “It’s either coexistence or war, I’m afraid. The forge is past the hangar, keep going through the kitchens. Voxie knows you’re here—he’s awake, by the way. Welcome home, Din.”

“Thanks,” Din said. “This is my advisor, Boba Fett and our friend Fennec.”

Sotra splayed her whole, tall body into the doorway of her and Eegang’s barracks just as a fearsome battle cry sounded out on the other side.

“Hi,” she said.

“RELEASE ME,” a child in front of her about hip-height with serious bedhead shrieked in Mando’a.

Fennec’s eyebrows launched up to her forehead. Boba felt like he needed to record this so that Kryze understood what she was missing.

“Vod Din is home,” Sotra told the child.

“DIN.”

“Shhhh.”

“RELEASE M—mmf.”

“Shhhhh. It’s quiet time,” Sotra said with her free hand over the child’s mouth. “We’re being quiet.”

Din chuckled.

“Hey, Samo,” he said.

Samo let loose an ear-piercing scream behind her buir’s hand and ducked under Sotra’s legs. She ran at Din like there was a bomb behind her. Din caught her and swung her up to perch on his arm and she kicked relentless at his tassets in excitement.

“Shhh,” Din said. “People are sleeping—”

“YOU’RE THE MAND’ALOR. YOU’RE THE MAND’ALOR. YOU’RE THE—”

Doors started opening all down the line of barracks. A few curious, hazy, and lopsided helmets poked out from some of them, and from others, calls of ‘EYYYYYYY’ and chats ‘ALL HAIL THE MAND’ALOR’ started up, to Din’s immediate mortification.

This, Boba was delighted to realize, was not a cry of honor.

These half-asleep fuckers had been waiting months to embarrass Din. And he’d known that this would happen.

“Be quiet,” Din snapped all around him. “The elders are sleeping, you’re going to—”

“Well, well, well, look who’s finally home,” a taunting voice rang out on top of the rush. “If it isn’t the Mand’alor himself.”

“Paz,” Din sighed. “Not now.”

“When could there possibly be a better time, your liege?” a huge Mandalorian wearing full blue armor despite the early hour drawled from the doorway he’d attempted to casually lean in. Samo’s braids flew as her round cheeks snapped his way.

“Paz, don’t be mean,” she told him from atop Din’s arm. “Or it’ll be to the goats with ya.”

“Fuck me, the goats, what ever will I do?” Paz scoffed.

“BUIR, PAZ SAID A BAD WORD.”

“I heard him,” Sotra said scathingly, right at Paz’s visor.

“To the goats,” Paz’s neighbor hissed at him.

The hissing was taken up just as quickly as the earlier ‘all hails’ had been. Paz told everyone to shut up and mind their own asses. He was publicly booed until Eegang emerged from the loft room with Karren stuffed under an arm and demanded to know why people were congregating in the halls. He reminded everyone that that shit was a fire hazard, and in doing so, his tone changed completely from easy-going to Commanding Officer and the effect was immediate.

People scurried back into their rooms like frightened mice until there wasn’t a single open door left in the whole line.

Eegang huffed and traded Karren to Din for his daughter. Samo happily climbed onto his shoulders and held onto his chin. Karren grinned mischievously up at her, winked, and then thumbed back to the goat loft.

“Not the welcome you deserved, but the one you got. I’m afraid nothing has changed here,” Eegang told Din compassionately, wrapping his fingers around Samo’s ankles. “I see you brought friends.”

“And foe,” Din said, gesturing at Bojzka who beamed.

Eegang’s visor contained a grimace that would otherwise have wracked his whole body.

“You got in,” he deadpanned.

“Sure did,” Bojzka said. “Lovely place you have here.”

And honestly? Yeah. It sort of was. Maybe a little ramshackle, what with all the scaffolding and haphazard support beams thrown into the walls to keep the wet earth above ground from crushing everyone below it, but for all the unsteadiness, it was oozing with comradery. Family.

Behind each of those doors was a little unit like Eegang and Sotra’s or perhaps a tired body, barely extracted from its boots, taking comfort in this honeycomb of tunnels and rooms.

Boba couldn’t help but wonder how he and Dad would have done in a place like this.

“We try,” Eegang said flatly. “I’ll let the Armorer deal with you herself—if she’s awake, I mean. Otherwise, you’re condemned to Shimmol. I’m going back to sleep. Vok is waiting for you, keep going straight through the kitchens, Din.”

“Thank you,” Din said. “Sleep well, Vod.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, Monster. No goats for now.”

Samo waved at Boba and Fennec with a smile as bright as the sun. She ducked expertly as Eegang passed through the doorway to their quarters. He closed the door behind them.

 ------

“You don’t see families like that much anymore,” Bojzka hummed as Din led their troop down the hallways, through a series of ladders into a kitchen and then from there into a surprisingly neat, up-to-date hangar with concrete floorings. Six crafts were parked inside, tucked into the tight space like fish in a barrel.

“We have a few,” Din said. “I don’t know how many people are living here now, though.”

Given the size of the place? Maybe fifty or so, if Boba had to take a guess. There had been several sets of boots lining the wall outside the barrack doors.

Din picked his way through the crafts to two tarps covered in piles of spare, rusting, and grease-covered parts. At the end of the aisle between the tarps was a rectangle bordered by wooden benches and to the left of that was a little box that a mechanic presumably operated from. The box, however, had no windows. Its door was slightly ajar.

Din knocked and a snort and a slurp answered him.

“Jus’ a mo,” a thick voice said inside.

Fennec looked at Boba with intrigue.

“Tool gnome,” she said.

No, friend. Just a grease-monkey.

“Tool gnome,” Fennec insisted.

The door opened and a man at least six feet, two inches peered out of it.

“Tool giant,” Fennec amended in a whisper.

“Is that you, Din?” the mechanic asked. His helmet was rusty red and gray. Its visor had a yellow tint to it.

“It is,” Din said. “It’s been a while, Vok. These are my—”

“Forget them. Goran told me what you did to Razor.”

Din cringed.

“I—”

“AH. No. I don’t wanna hear it,” Vok said. “I just—I’m glad you’re safe, but you ain’t touching any more of my children, you hear me, boy?”

Din sunk into his shoulders in shame.

“I hear you,” he said.

“You’re damn right you do,” Vok said. “Man, I had a whole speech written out and shit, and here you are, early as the fuckin’ dawn. Did you miss Paz?”

“We did not,” Din said.

“I tried to have him do an inventory, I did,” Vok said sympathetically. “But he wasn’t havin’ it. Took an IOU and everything.”

Din sighed.

“Thanks for trying,” he said. “Is the forge...?”

“That way,” Vok said, gesturing to the far end of the hangar, where a series of scaffolding led up to a dark hole in the wall. “Mind your step. Stairs are next on my list. Who’re your friends?”

Din introduced them. Vok considered Fennec and after a moment of thought, saluted her. She tipped her jaw to the side and gave him a once-over.

“Din’s got my number if you’re not busy,” Vok said.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Fennec said.

“I hope you do, my darlin’. You? Boj-whatever? I heard about you. You can go fuck yourself.”

“Thanks, Vok, we’re going now,” Din intervened.

 ----------

Fennec said nothing on the way up the scaffolding. She didn’t need to. Boba applauded her.

 ---------

The forge was the least finished part of the covert, and Boba could respect the Armorer’s dedication to looking after the flock before her own needs. Not that the forge wasn’t a comfortable place. Upon entry, Bojzka whistled at all the equipment inside. There were steel beams crossing in hatches along the ceiling. It appeared as though someone was working on a ventilation mechanism up there. Ropes and pipes hung down from the beams as though a pulley system had been recently removed.

The forge itself was a huge circular structure with a high wall around its exterior. It was built of a slick-looking black material. There were three water troughs set up in a line behind it and two rudimentary wood blocks with anvils set on them. Benches littered with iron tools sat next to the anvils.

Din appeared very at home in this place, despite not having even been in it. He wove around the accoutrements of the room towards a wooden door that had been placed on hinges on the far side like an afterthought.

He knocked.

“We don’ want any,” a sleepy woman’s voice drawled.

Boba jumped as a something brushed his elbow and discovered that Karren had followed them all the way down to the forge. His soft boots had hidden his footsteps, but, like Din, he was now in a place that he knew like the back of his hand. Din grabbed the scruff of his neck as he went for the door with both hands.

“You’re supposed to be in the nursery,” Din told him. “Shoo.”

“Shimmol, Din’s home,” Karren said through the door. “Goran, Din’s home.”

Very cute. Karren wanted to be the one to shared the news. Din pulled him back as shuffling started up on the other side of the wooden door.

It opened to reveal a fluorescent pink helmet with floral patterns painted down the edges in white.

“Din?” the young woman, who could only be Shimmol, asked.

Din’s brain stuttered.

“Uh?” he said.

Shimmol’s flightsuit was once white, but it was burned and smudged to gray all over. Her heavy gloves were half-burnt on both hands, too. She surged forward into Din’s chestplate. Din hugged her back awkwardly.

“Hello, sister,” he said. “This is, uh.”

“Do you like it?” Shimmol asked, pulling away from him to touch the edges of her helmet. “I thought it was cute. Wait til you see the pauldrons. They match.”

“They’re hideous,” Karren said.

“Did anyone ask you?” Shimmol flung at him. “No, I didn’t think so. Get gone, womp-rat.”

Wow. No wonder Karren was desperate for Din’s attention.

“I’m not a womp-rat,” Karren said. “I’m a Tooka. Goran said so.”

“You know, what you actually are is a ‘nuisance,’ so it doesn’t matter what—”

“Children.”

And lo and behold. The lady herself. Gold helmet and everything.

“Din,” the Armorer said, placing a hand on Shimmol’s side to move her. “Welcome home.”

Din accepted the helmet touch with grace.

“Bojzka,” the Armorer said next. “I didn’t expect to see you in my home so soon, or at all.”

Bojzka beamed.

“You’ve grown a beard,” the Armorer noted. “It does not become you.”

Boba coughed into his elbow to hide the bark of laughter screaming to escape his throat. Fennec thumped at his back.

“Let’s move somewhere with more light,” the Armorer said. “Karren, Shimmol. You’re dismissed for the next hour. Go eat breakfast.”

“But—” Shimmol started.

“Up, up, up,” Karren chanted, getting behind her and shoving hands into the small of her back. “It’s people-time.”

“Leave it. I hate people-time,” Shimmol said. “I thrive on darkness. It sustains me better than food.”

Din looked desperately into the Armorer’s helmet. The Armorer ignored him and told Shimmol that she knew this to false and to stop whining. Upstairs, now.  

The kids relented and left the forge. Din pointed after them.

“I know,” the Armorer said. “Let her work through it.”

Din pointed even more insistently.

“No, no. It’s true,” Bojzka said. “Mine went through the same thing.”

 --------

The Armorer sat them all down at a ‘u’ shape of benches on the far side of the forge. She turned on some overhead lights. They lit up the forge and threw its equipment’s shadows harshly against the floor.

“Thank you for coming,” she said lightly. “It takes a long time to get to Zeffo, even in the Outer Rim.”

“It suits you,” Bojzka flirted.

“It does not,” the Armorer countered unrepentantly. “And your flattery remains aggravating.”

Bojzka didn’t seem to process the meaning behind those words, too busy he was with basking in the Armorer’s presence. She ignored him to turn to Din.

“Eegang tells me that you have been aggressive towards Bojzka, ad’ika, is this true?”

Din hunkered down into his shoulders. He didn’t want to answer. The Armorer didn’t make him.

“This is unnecessary,” she said. “Bojzka does not bother me.”

Bojzka rounded a gloating grin at Din.

“He is delusional, but I’m afraid that head trauma does this over time,” the Armorer said lightly. “There is no need to defend my honor—I’ve already had this conversation with Eegang, so know that it is not only you who I’ve spoken to about this. And Bojzka.”

“Yes, dear?” Bojzka hummed.

“I would appreciate it if you ceased in antagonizing my foundling and second.”

“I’m not trying to, Nomri.”

“I know,” the Armorer said. “And that is where I believe this tension arises from. Din, you and your advisor may leave. I’ll handle this. In future, know that it is not your place to speak on these matters in my stead, yes?”

“Yes, Goran,” Din mumbled.

The Armorer waited.

“Buir,” Din corrected.

“Thank you. The last thing I need is the Mand’alor becoming invested in old-standing relationships. You may go.”

Din stood and Boba and Fennec stood with him.

“He is not Naseem,” Din said right at the doorway.

The Armorer’s helmet turned slowly his way.

“No one will ever be Naseem,” she said. “It’s okay. Go.”

 -----------

Boba need the full story on this Naseem guy approximately yesterday, but all he had at his disposal in the kitchens where he, Din, and Fennec had been banished was a collection of foundlings all staring up at their party looking guilty as hell.

In the midst of their group was a ten-year-old holding a glass jug absolutely brimming with frogs.

Boba had never seen this many foundlings together at once before, and he had to say: these traditionalists knew exactly what they were doing. There was nothing quite like a whole mass of youths to shift the mood.

The kids made a break for it.

  Fennec was the fastest of all of them, but even she was not as fast as the bodies that popped their heads out of the rattling back room and launched themselves without warning over the few rows of tables set out in the main space.

Din’s covert collectively looked after the little ones, he explained when one of these bodies returned with the wrist of a shrieking Twi’lek child in their grip. The shrieking cut off when the nurse dropped down into a crouch and flattened both of the child’s hands against their helmet so that they left splotchy prints behind.

Two of the folks who filed back into the room covered in mud did not wear helmets. Din didn’t recognize them until they spoke and said their names. They’d removed their helmets back on Nevarro, apparently, and they had not to put them back on. Now, they wore veils and headscarves—neither of them comfortable with their whole heads and faces on display.

One of these was a woman named Madda. She saw Din’s helmet and froze by one of the long tables.

“Din, I’m so glad you returned,” she said with hitching breath. And then she took her newly-acquired jug of frogs and went tearing back down the hallway towards the covert’s main entrance. Din watched after her, confused.

“Is the transition difficult?” he asked one of the other Mandalorians next to him.

Their helmet showed zero emotion, and yet Boba gleaned from it everything he needed to know. He put a palm on his forehead.

“Djarin, come here,” he said.

 -------------

Din chased after Madda to apologize for fucking up what was probably a years-long infatuation at this point. Fennec watched after him with a sly grin. But the Mandalorian with the flat helmet turned to Boba with far more open shoulders.

“You got through to him like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.

“It’s his secret talent,” Fennec told her.

“What was your name?” the Mandalorian asked.

“Boba Fett,” Boba said. “And yours?”

“Jhuvac.”

“Nice to meet you,” Boba said politely.

“Aren’t you the clone-guy?”

Welp.

“I prefer ‘Fett,’” Boba said.

“Nah, I feel that,” Jhuvac said, tossing her scarf over her shoulder. “Paz calls you the ‘clone-guy’ is all. That shit’s wild, by the way. But you can’t help your dad’s decision now can you?”

What was this? Understanding? From a traditionalist? Kryze would lose her shit.

“I can’t, although everything after that was totally me,” Boba said.

Jhuvac glanced back at him.

“Including the Solo stuff?” she asked.

Boba lifted a brow.

“Is there something you would like to know?” he asked.

“No,” Jhuvac said. “I know everything I need to. But you know what’ll make Vok’s life miserable?”

 ---------

The mechanic was a huge fan of Han Solo, and he had a list of reasons why Boba should cease hunting  the man about as long as one of his lanky arms. He listed them out one by one in his hangar full of metal scrap. Jhuvac was very correct when she said that the mere mention of Solo meeting his maker would cause Vok immense misery. Boba could see how it could be entertaining.

Fennec made it even more entertaining by poking holes in each of Vok’s carefully laid out arguments.

He kept asking her why she was hurting him like this. Was this a domination kink?

Fennec asked him if he wanted it to be.

Vok walked it all back and told her to do her worst.

Jhuvac decided that she suddenly had other things to do and invited Boba to accompany her on these things. Boba assented and left Fennec to her business.

 ----------

In the end, Boba found himself outside in a group huddle with a handful of covert people, two with no helmets, watching the feud between the foundlings and the local wildlife. The covert, he learned, broadly did not like Zeffo. They hated how wet it was. They hated how cold it was. 90% of them had grown up in desert climates, the remaining 10% in ice climates.

Zeffo, as far as they were concerned, was a backwater hellhole that they’d had little choice in selecting.

“It was this or breaking up and forming two coverts,” Sotra explained, removing Mesa’s captured snail from his face area for the third time. She gave the snail to the guy next to her who got up and took it down to the edge of the nearby river. He stooped to set it in the grass, then froze in shock when a fish’s wide mouth erupted from the water and encapsulated his whole glove.

It left the glove wet and empty.

“But you didn’t want to do that?” Boba asked.

“No, if we separated, it would be Eegang at the head of the new covert,” Sotra said. “And that’s just not in the cards for us right now.”

Gotcha.

“The children didn’t want to be separated either,” one of the Mandalorians with no helmet said. “Goran gave them the option, but things were frantic, you know. They cling to each other when they’re young like this.”

More than understandably, in Boba’s humble and correct opinion.

“What do you all think of Bojzka?” Boba asked them.

“Who?”

“The bull with no helmet? Beard?” someone said.

“The one trying to court the Armorer?” Sotra asked.

Everyone clambered back onto the same page in the face of this descriptor.

“He’s supposed to be some kind of hero,” Jhuvac said. “But I dunno, man. He seems a little, uh.”

“Goran’s too good for him,” Sotra interjected simply. “Imagine stooping so low after a life of respect and service.”

“He’s not ugly,” the Mandalorian who’d lost the snail pointed out. “I’d bang him.”

“You’re not a good bar, Ban.”

“I could be.”

“You’re the lowest bar, Ban.”

“Can’t be disappointed if your expectations on the floor.”

“Go bang him for Goran then,” Jhuvac said. “I can’t tell if she thinks he’s kinda cute or if she wants to stab him in the heart.”

“For the good of the covert, I will endure this hardship,” Ban said.

He was unceremoniously yanked back down when he started to stand.

“Din mentioned some guy named ‘Naseem?’” Boba asked.

The name alone sent the group into titters.

“Naseem was so nice.”

“Naseem was great, you have no idea. So respectful.”

“He wanted to take Din on so bad, it was almost heartbreaking. He and Goran were perfect for each other. He was so happy around her; I don’t think he ever talked in front of anyone else.”

“God, when he died, I cried so hard. I cried for days.”

“Same.”

“Same.”

“Same.”

“Kind of a tough reputation to beat, then?” Boba asked.

“Oh definitely,” Jhuvac said. “I mean, there was Hajka after him, but she was just so explosive. Like, she made Goran laugh a lot, I remember that, but she was kinda awkward, too. There was a battle on her home planet and she left everyone here to defend what was left of her people.”

“Goran collects the awkward ones, they’re her favorite,” Sotra said.

“You can’t judge her, you collect Eegangs,” Ban pointed out.

“There is only one Eegang.”

“Girl, we know.”

There was a pause while Sotra handed off her child so that she could beat the shit out of Ban on the lumpy grass. Jhuvac handed Mesa over Boba’s lap to the quiet person at his right. They took the baby without question and laid him on their chest.

“Where did you grow up, Boba?” Jhuvac asked. “Sorry, Fett. Do you like Fett?”

Boba was taken aback. It had been ages since someone had called him by his first name—and a Mandalorian no less.

“Boba is fine. I grew up on Kamino,” he said.

“With a covert?”

No, no covert. No anyone, really. Boba was what people in white coats tended to call ‘under-socialized.’

“That’s sad,” Jhuvac said. “It must have been lonely.”

It was, actually. Especially after Dad had died.

“That’s so sad, I’m gonna cry,” Ban said. “Join our covert.”

All helmets and eyes rounded on Boba and he felt like his collar was suddenly digging into his neck. He shook his head.

“I’m not really a Mandalorian,” he said. “It’s not right—”

“Bullshit.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Jhuvac, let ‘im talk.”

“No, that’s bullshit. Listen, Din has ‘don’t trust people’ syndrome. If he trusts you enough to bring you with him here, then you’re Mandalorian enough for us,” Jhuvac said. “And anyways, being a Mandalorian is about what you do, not who you are. It doesn’t matter if you’re clone-guy so long as you follow the Creed in a more or less northernly direction.”

Boba stared at her and realized that everyone was staring at him again. He cleared his throat but found that he didn’t have any words trapped back there like he’d thought.

“Or easternly,” Ban offered to break the awkwardness.

There were still no words on Boba’s tongue. He struggled to say at least something.

“I—th—that’s kind of you,” he eventually managed. “I don’t think I could cut it here, but that’s really kind of you.”

The Mandalorians exchanged looks and shrugs.

“Know that the offer stands if you feel any pull towards it later,” Sotra said. “We have a number of reformed who converted and who move in and out of our covert. Not recently, but when we were children, there were more. Goran, too, was once a reformed Mandalorian.”

“My buir, too,” Jhuvac added.

“My ba-buir was reformed,” Ban said. “But she might have caused a public riot. Or two. Or three.”

“Speaking of which,” Sotra said. “Elder Fayrz has emerged from his cave.”

“I’ll get him,” Jhuvac sighed.

Boba frowned and looked from them out to the hill the foundlings had selected to gossip on. A Mandalorian in black and white with a green cape was, indeed, now kneeling among them. Every face was turned towards him in wonder.

“I’ve heard of this guy. He looks fun,” he noted.

At least one hand from every body came up to clutch at their face.

“That’s exactly the problem,” Ban said.

 ------

Din rejoined Boba in the midst of Elder Fayrz’s attempt to recruit him into the covert. He somehow knew Dad. That in itself was a little disarming. At first, Boba hadn’t believe that the elder was speaking the truth, but then he started up with alarmingly specific training corp numbers and mentioned off-handedly that he used to work in the corps, training kids from six to fourteen.

It made sense now why, in old age, he was considered the most dangerous person in the covert to have around the foundlings.

Grandpa was a serial spoil-er and mischief-instigator. The children saw in him everything they wanted out of life and were loathe to be separated from their most favorite old man.

Din got between him and Boba and informed the Elder that he’d just gotten married.

The Elder’s attentions went rocketing in the opposite direction. He wanted pictures, he wanted to know all about the reception, he wanted to know why Din hadn’t brought his partner home with him, what color their armor was, where they were presently based—the whole barrel of spotchka.

Boba appreciated the save.

He also appreciated the moment when the Elder fully realized that Din had, in fact, married a real jedi.

“YOU STUPID BOY.”

There it was.

The children bustled and whispered.

“This is what happens when we do not teach them to read—where is your buir? I told her, I told her that you needed more lessons. Always with the dogs, I knew it would have some effect—”

Din couldn’t even argue. He and Kryze had been over the very same deficit about sixty times. If they were lucky, Bo-Katan gave him a day or two off in between scoldings.

While the old man was outraged, Din signaled to Boba that they would be leaving soon.

 --------

Bojzka joined Boba, Din, and Fennec at the ramp of their ship about ten minutes late. The Armorer personally showed him out of the covert and told him to return only if the galaxy began to collapse in on itself. She was at least cordial about it, which, in hindsight, was probably why Bojzka was having a hard time reading the glaring ‘please desist’ sign flickering over her head.

“Be safe,” she told Din while Karren made sad sounds behind her.

“Will do,” Din said. “Next time, I’ll see if Luke will come.”

“We would like to have him,” the Armorer said.

She dipped her helmet to Boba and Fennec and they returned the gesture.

“I hope you were well-received by the others,” she said. “Bojzka, good bye.”

“Talk to you later,” Bojzka hummed.

“We shall not,” the Armorer said.

 ---------

Back in the Dune Sea, Kryze was waiting in one of the conference rooms. Din avoided her and all her probing questions. Boba did not. He was in a sharing sort of mood and Fennec had a ‘thanks for the lay’ message to compose to Mr. Vok.

Kryze crossed her legs and gestured for him to join her at the table.

He did and crossed his legs right back.

“So?” she asked.

“Shocking peaceful,” Boba said. “Violent mostly towards their own members. Tried to recruit me at least three times.”

Kryze’s eyebrows did a little dance.

“Surprising,” she said.

“Not very,” Boba corrected. “Din is one of the more reserved members. He resembles his buir more than I expected.”

“And Bojzka?” Kryze asked.

“Soundly rejected, but somehow optimistic about it,” Boba said. “The good news is that Din’s been forbidden from trying to kill him.”

“That is good news,” Kryze agreed.

There was a long pause.

“Are you thinking about it? Joining, I mean?” Kryze asked.

“No,” Boba said, “But it is nice to occasionally be around Mandalorians who don’t have sticks up their asses.”

“Unicorns,” Kryze said.

“A whole covert of them,” Boba told her with a smirk. “Maybe it’s not them. Maybe it’s you all.”

“I beg to differ,” Kryze said. “If the issue is resolved, then I suppose we’ll have to move back on to official business.”

That was no fun.

“Why is Fennec so smug?”

Oh, that was more fun. Sit back down, Lady. This is going to be a bawdy one.

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

You know, if you think about it, the writers pulled a "bury your gays" on Dean too in 15×20. They killed him because he was queer and they couldn't give him a happy ending because in the way that they established it from s13 (the widower's arc) it simply would not make sense for him to have an apple pie life with anyone else other that Cas.

Cas was literally the only person that he could end up with in a way that makes sense, and because the c/w is a homophobic hellhole they chose to kill him instead...

im spiraling rn nobody hmu🤚

(and im not saying that Sam did get a happy ending. My boy ended up alone with a blurry wife and a demonic child they did him so dirty and it makes NO SENSE why he couldnt have a family with Eileen)

ANYWAYS FUCK D*BB FUCK THE C*W, CMP IS OUR ONLY HOPE

as a preliminary, please note that as a writer myself I am generally a writer-positive blog (erhm maybe not re Bucklemming but the rest), yes even re: Dabb (I do make Dabb jokes, I do think some of his takes are bad, I do NOT think he would tank the entire arc of where s15 was headed. I truly do not think the last two eps esp the finale reflect what the writing was TRYING to do in the prior eps of the season).

that being said yes. you are right. Dean wouldn't have been happy on earth without Cas, and I think even Jackles has alluded to this (Misha also said that Dean's heaven wouldn't be heaven to him without Cas in it).

Sam's ending stunk too (which is why it was truly beyond odd to me [other than you know the theories] that J*rpad calls this his favorite episode of the show, sir did you see. your wig. did you see it? pls.) I mean the child was fine than those terrible monogrammed overalls but also I always had this notion that Sam didn't want kids (please don't cancel me it's just my head canon, its also fine if people think Sammy loved and very much wanted kids/a family, etc.). Like the person who was always the brother who loved and was GREAT with kids was Dean. And yeah, Sam was good with Jack but it was more of a I see myself in him and I want to help, which is always how he related to the troubled children on the show too (ex: Magda). Anyway, I always saw Sam ending up with Eileen and them being this like cool hunter couple that traveled a lot and were sexy and childless in a "good for them" kind of way. SORRY TO DIGRESS WITH A RANDOM SAM TAKE.

But yes the network is the villain here IMO, and that was made VERY clear in Chuck's character (who started as a writer and turned into...someone canceling shows ;D). So. Yeah, F them.

And I'll cheers to you completely in toasting CMP. I truly think whatever they create is going to be great and I look forward to supporting it.

[untowonder-gone]

♦ What was a mildly annoying thing that has happened to you rp wise? ⚜ How many people do you not like? ☀ What's your rp pet peeve? ☢ What fads/trends are you so over? ❀ What has made you completely lose your chill? ♒ Thoughts on the fandom you're currently rping in?

the salty af munday meme ; accepting

♦ What was a mildly annoying thing that has happened to you rp wise?

Mildly annoying? I guess, transitioning from LJ / DW rp to tumblr rp? It was pretty awkward for a time, as tumblr rp is very different from journal rp, which was closer to forum rp, but nothing like email rp. But I enjoy making icons, so the graphics part wasn't so bad. And the overall freedom to explore a character and build upon a preestablished world, etc. wasn't too overwhelming. I guess it was just the stylization, when it comes to how we're all supposed to be hella fancy and aesthetic that really got to me. Hunting for an open un was a very inconvenient affair.

I try to take things in stride, so I do my best to just ignore shit that does bug me over much. Though, for a while, with container blogs, just not being friendly for people with dyslexia like me. Or super small font. Or people who use obnoxious spacing and so-called fancy font. Like I said, it's not friendly for dyslexic persons.

⚜ How many people do you not like?

I have distanced myself from anyone I dislike.  I am incredibly fond of the block button,  if you must know.  But,  just to answer the question  :

There are a few people I rather dislike.  One person I would almost say I truly despise, loathe entirely. One person forced a ship on me, demanded I use a white FC for my very Asian character, and used to attempt to force me to cheat on my spouse with him. Another person actually caused me and my spouse to break up, but I really don't like discussing that. And the last person, the one I truly despise, is someone I will not openly discuss on this blog or any other.  I might be coaxed into talking about it over IMs or discord,  but I’d like to put the past behind me.

☀ What's your rp pet peeve?

I personally double space between punctuation marks and quotation marks to better my reading experience, as it assists with my dyslexia. So, I normally have no problem with adding some extra space between words and such. I get it, it's aesthetic. On the other hand, overly space words and add in a bunch of unnecessary punctuation marks or symbols actually makes it incredibly hard for me to read, let alone understand what I'm looking at. It either starts to blur together or just becomes this blob that I cannot compute.

☢ What fads/trends are you so over?

I love to make a very pretty border for my icons, like that isn't obvious, but I also just don't care for this sudden trend of cramming a dozen little symbols or images together to create the icons border. They look too busy, and sometimes make it difficult to actually look at the icon itself. I'm also not a fan of how border styles basically have to change every other week to keep up with the trends. Like you do you or whatever, but it's not for me.

❀ What has made you completely lose your chill?

I hate callouts. Like, if this shit can be solved over disco, ims, whatever the fuck, then be a grown ass adult and solve your issues. But I swear to god, some of yall will just callout someone because they're using a FACECLAIM that you're attached to. Get over yourself, move on. That isn't to say all callouts are bad. If you're out here trying to inform someone about a real predator hiding among the rpc, I totally understand. But, trust me, after escaping the hellhole of the Fate rpc, I honestly cannot stand callouts.

♒ Thoughts on the fandom you're currently rping in?

Everyone is very sweet. Or, at least, everyone I have met so far, and those I've interacted with. There is an underlying sense of elitism, but that's pretty common with any fandom, and I'm too old to care.  I also do separate myself from the over all fandom.  I generally do that with any fandom.

But,  leaning into the rp community only  :  everyone has thus far been pretty welcoming, and I am really enjoying just watching people interact or gush about these characters, and seeing people really start reaching out and researching topics that hold some sway over their muses. For instance, I love seeing people look into Welsh / Irish fae, and finding the differences in them and how their muse might be affected by this or that.  And,  obviously,  I really adore this Alice in Wonderland and Alice’s Adventures Through the Looking Glass revival I’m seeing.  It’s very cute watching others pull from the books over the disappointing live action films,  that aren’t the amazing BBC Through the Looking Glass film that came out years ago.

[binniewon]

In Their Eyes 7

Prev|Next

Pairing: Hybrid!BTS/ Female!Human Reader

Warning: Mild cursing 

A/N: YAY loves chapter 7 please enjoy most just Hobi but he is really important to the story- anyways I probably won’t update this in a while I am super busy but I love you!! Also if you want to be on the taglist please let me know!

Taglist:

@babyboytae1  @crystal581  @reallysparklychaos  @mayla548  @dbaby14  @missseoulite @tundrafox548   @tae-letubbie @thebleuprince​ (unable to tag @alex--awesome--22)

.

.

.

Recently you had been thinking about the task that the scientist asked you to do and honestly you were ready to get out of the place, but it seemed like every time that you would want to get the damn thing over with so that you could leave Hobi’s beautiful smile and cute ears would pop into you head add that to Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook and you would chicken out every time. You don’t know why they have started to mean so much to you in this short amount of time but you knew that you needed to stop thinking about them and just do it the scientist were starting to become inpatient.

You figured that you would need to distance yourself from them if you every wanted to leave this place, but did you?

“Hey Y/N wake up” You recognized that voice anywhere and by the way that the sun hadn’t start to peek through your make shift blinds you knew that it was Hobi, every morning you guys went out to the lake and watched the sunrise but today would be the day that you started to distance yourself the more that you were detached the better.

“Hobi not today okay” you could all but hear his whine as the words left your mouth and you could feel your heart breaking.

“D-did I do something wrong” you regretted looking at him because the face that he was giving you almost had you caving in, almost.

“No Hobi I j-just don’t feel good” his ear perked up in alarm at your confession and he was immediately by your side.

“Do you need to go see Jinyoung he probably isn’t awake but I’m sure he would be more than happy to check you out and make sure everything is fine” how could you do this to them Yoongi and Namjoon were another story but the others had been so nice to you especially Hobi so how could you just betray them like this, you mother didn’t raise you to be like this but she wasn’t here anymore-

“I’m fine Hoseok I just need some space” you said upset, at yourself, but you took it out on him you quickly turned away from him but it wasn’t fast enough because you saw the hurt flash in his eyes and his ears flatten against his head, you had hurt the only person who without a doubt trusted you from the beginning and it was all because you were selfish.

.

.

.

You stayed in your bed all day long you knew that if you came across Hobi you would march over to the scientist and tell him to leave the hybrids and you alone but you couldn’t do that because you needed to get home.

A rapid knock on your door had you sitting up as you waited for the hybrid on the other side to make themselves known and by known you mean to make sure it wasn’t Yoongi or Namjoon you didn’t want to have to confront them until it was time and you were dreading it.

“Y/N open the fucking door” that was Yoongi, you quickly looked around for some way to escape Yoongi was really possessive when it came to his mates but he was even more possessive with Hobi and if Hobi told him how you treated him and what you said you were a dead man walking.

“Fine I will just break it down” this was your only form of privacy in the hellhole and you didn’t want that taken away from you so you jumped up and quickly unlocked it. As soon as the door was open Yoongi pushed you backwards you didn’t have a chance to regain you balance so you fell backwards and hit your head which didn’t feel too great.

“What the fuck is wrong with you huh Hoseok came to me crying because you hurt his feelings, I understand that you don’t “feel good” but that doesn’t mean that you have to yell at Hoseok he doesn’t deserve it so you will go fucking apologize to him now!” once he stopped his rant you snapped out of whatever trance you were in and quickly felt at the back of your head and when you did you felt something hot and wet, it didn’t take a genius to know what it was but you still brought your fingers to the front of your face to examine if you were in fact bleeding and to no one’s surprise you were.

It seemed like Yoongi snapped out of whatever trance he was in also when he saw your bloody fingers “Fuck Y/N I-i- NAMJOON” you didn’t want to start freaking out but it was kind of hard when your head was bleeding and two people who absolutely hated you were standing over you trying to figure out what they should do.

“Let’s just take her to Jinyoung” Namjoon said which Yoongi quickly dismissed “He would kill us” Namjoon nodded his head in agreement “If the others find out they might kill us also” again Yoongi shook his head “Not if they have already found out what she did to Hoseok” you figured Namjoon already knew as his face quickly morphed to one of hatred “Your right”.

You started to become light head so you laid down just in case you passed out you could still hear them talking but you chose to block them out they were just making you feel worse.

It wasn’t until you heard hushed whispers that you chose to lift your throbbing head to see what was going on, you watched as the other five boys walked in “Hey we smelled blood and- oh my god Y/N” Hobi was quickly at your side with his hand under your head trying to stop the bleeding.

“What the fuck did you do Yoongi” Hobi asked his mate pissed off when Yoongi said he was going to come talk to you he convinced Hobi that he wouldn’t hurt you and Hobi believed him.

“I didn’t do anything” at his reply Hoseok growled at him “So she magical ended up on the ground with her head bleeding?” Yoongi huffed at Hoseok’s question “I-I accidently pushed her too hard I swear it was an accident” Hobi snickered at his lover “Bullshit Yoongi”

You were getting tired of the fighting so you tried to defuse the situation but found it quit hard as the room started to spin and you felt yourself start to become lightheaded.

“H-he i-isn’t l-l” was the last thing you said before you blacked out.

[nicksreggies]

Willex and Nickinald doubt date? Do tell

i shall

okay so my lovely friend jack, @pamesjatterson and i already talked abt this but i feel the need to make a list of hcs now because that’s what i do (this is an alive!au bc i said so)

-they go to a drive-in

- it’s the summertime and julie and the phantoms had a gig earlier that day so needless to say alex and reggie are wiped

- they fall asleep as soon as the movie starts

- the feature film maze runner because i have recently re-fallen down that particular hellhole (spoilers for the tmr trilogy below)

- willie and nick give full commentary the entire time, such as “there’s no way that british dude is straight” and “teresa is so useless, when does she die”

- reggie wakes up during ben’s banishment and immediately buries his face into nick’s neck because Scary

- willie drinks like five cokes in a row and has to use the bathroom

- alex sleeps all until chuck’s d*ath, and the whole time willie is just. smiling at him. and kissing his fingers. and being in love.

- nick scoffs at him but then he turns around and plays with reggie’s hair so,,,,,

- they all cry when chuck dies (reggie cries the hardest)

- he cries for like ten minutes until nick gives him a box of sour patch kids (reggie would love em fight me)

- the movie theater just happens to be showing the whole series that night and willie’s already hyped up on caffiene, alex and reggie are wide awake, and nick’s somehow already become number one newtmas stan so they stay for the scorch trials

- they all hate janson/rat man immediately

- willie’s just “wow he reminds me of a certain uncle of mine” his uncle is caleb

- do you,,,,know that one scene,,,,,,,,,where thomas knows wckd found them and he’s losing his shit and newt gets real close in his face and says “what did you see” in a voice yea

- nick freaks out

- alex says “chill man it’s just a movie” but he’s also like  👀  👀  👀 

- when winston dies reggie cries

- alex gets terrified every jump scare and hides behind willie every time a crank shows up on screen

- willie has alreay consumed ten coca-colas at this point

- they all hate teresa and it gets worse when minho is captured

- the four agree to stay for the showing of the death cure

- the innocent children they are, they think the movie will end in happiness and peace and love and a dead teresa (i mean it does but-)

- when minho’s not on the train willie is genuinely so shocked

- nick rambles about the happy newtmas they will surely be getting at the end of the film, my sweet summer child

- reggie’s favorite character is frypan and he won’t shut up about it

- reggie: “i just think that fry cooked for them all and now he’s agreeing to go on a suicide mission, he deserves more appreciation”

his boyfriend, just trying to watch a movie: “that’s sweet darlin’ but they’re getting attacked by zombies”

- teresa shows up on screen and willie throws an empty coke can at her

- except nick is in the way so it kinda just,,, ricochets off of him

- he says “ouch dude what the heck” and willie looks away and doesn’t say anything

- gally shows up again and they all collectively lose their minds, which earns them many a glare from the elderly couple in the car over

- it happens again when newt dies except with a lot more tears and insisting “but they were in love”s from nick

-  they’re all extremely uncomfortable when thomas and brenda flirt

- surprisingly, willie is the only one who cries during the reading of The Letter

- they leave the drive-in tired but content

also reggie is totally wearing nick’s hoodie the whole time

anyways off to write a fic based off this 

im joking maybe later i vv much need sleep

[puppy-phum]

2020 – a (content creator) year in review

I decided to make this into a mix of these two games I was (kinda?) tagged into so thank you for @leonzhng and @tiesanjiao ♥ I hope you don’t mind me doing it like this ^^ all the questions were just so interesting that I wanted to try!

(bc of the amount of questions, I’m placing them under a cut so that I don’t flood anyone’s dash) 

Me

(this is the 2020 year in review that hanyi tagged me to ♥ sorry am so late!)

Top 5 Movies you saw this year

wow tbh I didn’t watch many movies this year as I realized yesterday when I was thinking about this for certain reasons. Or at least I feel like I didn’t watch that many? Nothing really stuck with me it seems.

Because of this, I will only mention two: Parasite and The Old Guard. Those were both wonderful in their own ways and I’m very happy I got to watch them both ^^

Top 5 TV shows you watched this year

this one is difficult bc I watched so many (and forgot even more?) but:

The Lost Tomb Reboot (my introduction to DMBJ. this drama stole my heart and helped me through the tough autumn semester!) 

Joy of Life (it’s nuts that this happened during 2020? it feels like it was ages ago)

Kingdom (such a positive surprise and I really hope we get more of this :o I really recommend!)

Detective L (easy, nice aesthetics, amazing costumes. Bai Yu was a delight as Luo Fei)

Sand Sea (I am still baffled by how much I loved this bc I had so many doubts? am happy I did tho)

Bonus: Guardian (bc it has come to stay and the rewatch has been so emotional but so rewarding)

Top 5 songs of 2020

this is a tough one too bc I’ve heard so much new music during 2020 but I will try to put it simply:

Black Swan by BTS (I absolutely adore this song. I listened to it on repeat when it came out at the beginning of the year, I have cried for it a ton, I enjoy every stage I see for it and it’s just a masterpiece. it has also helped a bit with my writing struggles that I’ve felt creeping up on me lately)

Always by By The Coast (an amazing song that always leaves me in my feels. inspires me a lot all the time)

Love me or Leave me by DAY6 (this whole album was a masterpiece and I listened to it on loop for like. two weeks? this was my favorite song on it even if I adored the rest too, especially Zombie)

all of my life by Park Won (listened to this a lot in relation to my xicheng and the wedding I finally got to write for them ;; that’s one good thing that came out of this year tbh)

雨人 by 刘畅 (Liu Chang) (with the Reboot’s ending song, this one is my favorite on that ost. I love Liu Chang’s voice, I loved Liu Sang as a character and as I said, I loved Reboot as a drama. I get super emotional about this ost so I think it defined this year a lot for me)

Top 5 books you read in 2020  

All For The Game -trilogy (listened to these as audiobooks but that counts right?)

The Song of Achilles (as an audiobook too and really adored the reader’s voice)

The Smoke Thieves -series (I really just binge read the two first books in this series and am so excited for the next one!)

Call Down The Hawk (love love love)

Guardian novel (am not very into these novels usually but I was positively surprised this time? it was so cool to finally get the original story and compare it with the drama version)

5 positive things that happened in 2020

joined mdzsnet and met all the amazing ppl there and got to become part of this loving community and :’) I’m so thankful, it’s been a joy

learned more about editing? or started doing it regularly. I still can’t do shit but am having fun learning more all the time and I really hope that maybe the upcoming year I can switch to PS and try out giffing?

went to Halsey’s concert! it was in february so a bit before all the hassle with covid happened over here ;; it was super cool and so nice and I just. I love Halsey

fell into the DMBJ hellhole which am very much enjoying. it’s a great universe and the story is so good and the dramas have been so fun to watch and. it feels like a good continuation to The Untamed somehow haha (also brought me a new friend! you’re amazing ashen!! ♥)

started therapy and it’s been... a journey. but towards something better I think? it’s something I would’ve needed ages ago but it’s better late than never I suppose

My Creations

(this is the other part where ali was being super sweet and mentioned me ♥ thank you for being so awesome!)

1. first creation and most recent creation of 2020: wow it’s been a while since I’ve looked at this horrible creation but here ya go jkdhgk [x]. I’ve come a long way from this (and my xicheng has come a long way from this too). most recent one is this xiaoge edit that I absolutely adore [x]. 

2. one of your favorite creations from 2020: this wwx edit that was part of my agust d2 edit series [x]. I loved to give him blue instead of his typical red. 

3. a new style you tried this year and a gifset edit that uses it: this [x] wwx edit which I don’t know if I like or not but I was playing around with the font and all the effects instead of just normal screenshots + coloring. also I just adore the quote. 

4. a creation to be proud of: I could mention that xiaoge here but in addition, I will also say this wu xie edit for reboot [x]. I managed to capture my vision so well, I was surprised. for cql, this songxiao edit [x]. I loved how it turned out in the end. 

5. a creation that took forever: this wangxian edit [x]. like I’ve said several times, I lost sleep bc of it. I just kept struggling with the third pic and how to place the text there D: 

6. your creation from 2020 that received the most notes: this lwj/wangxian edit [x]. I had many ideas for this edit when I first started making it and I never managed to capture my vision in the way I first intended... the pictures I was supposed to use just never fit quite right sigh. I dunno why it was this one that gained all the notes in the end bc I personally think I have better ones too but am still thankful :’D 

7. a creation you think deserved more notes: as said, dmbj fandom on tumblr is very small so I really want to say the two already mentioned ones (wu xie and xiaoge) and then my pingxie edits [x] [x]. also these wwx edits which I personally am very happy about [x] [x]. and from my agust d2 series, this yun bros one [x].

8. a new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it: really just dmbj this year and I’ve already linked all of my creations for that :’D tho I have plans for another pingxie edit and a liu sang edit! oh and maybe I could mention guardian here with this shen wei [x]. I had so much fun while making it (also the quote just haunted me relentlessly until I gave it a moment). 

9. a creation you made that breaks your heart: this must be my easter islanders (lwj and jc) edit [x] that just. awoke many thoughts in me? I’m going to put a link to the version where you can read my ramblings underneath :’D 

10. a ‘simple’ creation that you really love: my creation for the creator (gif?) challenge that was going around! [x] it was simple and nice to do and I loved the result. also, it was nice to work with jl for a change :’) 

11. a favorite creation created by someone else: oh wow ok so this is going to be rough bc I have so many favorites ;; you can look at this post here [x] to see more! 

but to love my two taggers am going to say these [x / x] [x] [x] [x] [x] by hanyi (I always love your edits, the colors you choose, the thoughts you put into them (and your humor too!). there are so many cool things you’ve done that I just stay in awe of! I adore all of it ;; ♥) and these [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] by ali (I love all of your gifsets so much, they have such pretty colors and such good scenes, and I am thankful every day that you make all the amazing dmbj content, pls never stop ;; I should go through all of your creations properly one day! I noticed you have sand sea stuff too and let me scream?) ^^ ♥

12. your favorite content creators and blogs that you appreciate: this is going to be a huge list and I’ve already made my love heard for some but no hurt in doing it again so @i-am-just-a-kiddo @ashenwren @tiesanjiao @kholran @lzswy @englishbunnyrocks @leonzhng @aheartfullofjolllly @yibobibo @inkblue-black @cross-d-a @bloody-bee-tea @fytheuntamed @mdzsnet @lifegoesmon @creeds-eagle @underaswift-sunrise @sarawatsaraleo @lan-xichens @mylastbraincql @wangxianbunnydoodles @manhasetardis @distantsnows @ohsehuns @minmoyu @linglynz @highwarlockkareena @yiqiie @aowyn @alienwlw @wangxiians @kingbadcat @sassyassassy @tytangfei @lanzhannnn @skzmxtp @leoyunxi @yoonqiful @softjeon @rapbabenamjoon @ronan-adam @miyakuli @pavusdorian @arsuf @brolinskeep @gawincaskeyy and so many others! (sorry for all the random ppl on this list that I’ve never even talked to ^^’ just know that you make my dash a wonderful place! ♥) 

I won’t tag anyone separately here but everyone who’s already been tagged or sees this is free to do this (or link me posts if you’ve done these already!) ♥ have a nice day everyone! 

[amysteryspot]

Little Lamb - Thomas Shelby x OFC x Alfie Solomons

Cover: @anesthesieport​  ( @elysiumeditions​ )

Requested: No

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Alfie Solomons x Agnes - and no, you didn’t read it wrong

Warnings: cursing?

Summary: Tommy is too stressed to notice his new secretary, but Alfie's got his eyes on her.

Word Count: 720 (is it?)

A/N: Oh well, I'm back to my usual bulshit of posting parts of WIPs that I don't know if I'll ever finish. So here is another one, encouraged by @internalmess3 and @shakehandswithdevils that made me want to write about a polyamorous relationship. For knowledge, Tommy and Alfie are in a somewhat established relationship here and this is supposed to happen around season four. Let me know what you think about it.

English is not my first language and this wasn't proofread by a beta.

Tommy was in a sour mood. Had been for the entirety of the past week.

Tension was escalating fast: his family ignoring him after their release, the parliament, the black hands, Michael and John being shot, the whole family bunched up in Small Heat again… Everything was building up and making his stress levels go haywire.

Alfie was coming to the office today, to deal with some business, and Tommy wasn’t so sure if he had the patience required to deal with the man complaining about how much of a hellhole the city was, even when he looked damn good doing it. Maybe that was the reason why he didn’t notice something was off sooner.

Maybe that was the reason why he didn’t notice her sooner.

Lizzie was always the one who dealt with his stuff, especially when Alfie was around, considering that she was one of the few people who knew that the nature of his relationship with the Londoner wasn’t purely business anymore.

Still, Tommy was sure that he wouldn’t have acknowledged the fact that it wasn’t Lizzie who handed him the stack of papers that day if Alfie haven’t chosen to announce it.

“Do tell me, love, how did a God fearing young lady like yourself ended up working for a Godless man like Shelby, huh?”

Tommy lifted his eyes from the papers and the first thing he noticed was the smirk on Alfie’s face. The man had turned in his chair to have a better look at the woman standing a few feet from the doors. He was clearly interested; Tommy recognized his body language well enough to acknowledge that. Then, he saw her.

He wasn’t really surprised to not have noticed her sooner. With the way she dressed and walked, without making any sound, she could blend in quite well, almost like a ghost.

She wore a dark blue dress that did a perfect job at making her appear as plain as possible. It was longer that what most women chose to wear these days, with long sleeves and collar that revealed very little of her cleavage. A delicate silver cross was hanging from her neck.

Oh, that’s what had caught Alfie’s attention, then.

She turned around to face them, doe eyes quickly traveling from him to Alfie. From this distance, he couldn’t distinguish what color they were, but he guessed they were brown, like her curly braided hair.

“Mrs. Gray knows my family, she was kind enough to offer me a job.”

Tommy almost laughed at her answer – if he knew his aunt well enough, he was sure that there was a motive behind this allegedly act of good will. Polly rarely did something just out of kindness.

“My, my, good lass, from a good family. It isn’t impressive, Tom, how she did end up involved with you lot?”

Alfie looked at him, smirking, clearly trying to rile him up. Tommy would have found it alluring in other situation, but right now everything he could feel was annoyance.

“Where’s Lizzie?” He asked, simply, looking the girl in the eye.

“She wasn’t feeling well, Mr. Shelby, sir.” She answered, shyly, trying to avoid his gaze, fidgeting with her clasped fingers. Tommy could almost feel the fear radiating off of her. “She asked me to take care of things today.”

He barely acknowledged her answer before dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

She was almost at the door when Alfie’s voice made her stop. Again, it took her a moment to turn and face them.

“Agnes.”

“Agnes,” Alfie parroted, “beautiful name.”

The girl—Agnes—nodded, shyly, and exited the office quickly, closing the door behind her.

Alfie turned to face him, scratching his beard as he hummed to himself.

“Agnes,” he paused, apparently savoring the name rolling off of his lips. “Do you know what it means?”

“No, Alfie. I don’t fucking know what her name means.”

“It’s Greek, mate. It means pure, virginal, chaste. Usually associated with lambs.”

The glint in Alfie’s eyes said everything that Tommy needed to know.

“Don’t get any ideas, Alfie. She wouldn’t get involved with man like us.” Old, dangerous and tainted. That’s what they were.

Alfie laughed at his words, the smirk on his lips matching the mischief in his eyes.

“Wouldn’t she?”

◄ LITTLE LAMB MASTERLIST | NEXT PART ►

[lebrookestore]

Thank You and Presents?

Welcome to this semi-chaotic, passive aggressive post. I spent a good hour on this, so you mfs better read.

I've decided to combine these two posts, considering they go hand in hand, so bear with me.

I've been here for a month, and I've made so many new friends, read some amazing fics, and actually made friends with some of my writing inspirations themselves, which I cant even begin to comprehend so I won't try.

I've released four fics, two were shorter, but the ones I'm really proud of- Little Princess and Poison and Petals-i still can't believe I sat my ass down and started writing. This year has been a shit one, but never would I have thought I would start writing fanfiction. Let alone the long ass fics I write please.

So hitting 100 followers is even more of a foreign concept, but thank you so much! I'm bewildered that people actually ready my shit and the fact some want to be tagged in stuff, and the fact it's only been a month? What is reality-

And some of y'all see my shit posts and deal with me- to that I say God bless you and your patience. You have to be some sort of heavenly being amen.

Honestly, some of y'all actually helped me through a lot of shit, and some even encouraged me with my first fic, which was the start of these shenanigans( whether this was a good idea or not, we shall never know)

Basically, thank you so much, it means a lot to me, it really makes my day when I see w new follow, or a reblog, or someone liking my shit posts about simping (I am sorry my dude) .

Now, since the year is ending, thank god, I've decided to give my moots presents, since I've seen a lot of people do this (originality went ✨yeet✨) and it's also like a thank you and appreciation message of sorts. Also because I'm nice.

Let the chaos begin:

@alicanta77 my first moot, and literally one of my biggest inspirations fir writing, she was with me when I was writing Poison and Petals, and encouraged me with everytime I hit a roadblock, or was feeling tired with it. She's such a talented writer, and her series are very well thought out. They deserve so much more love, because the effort, the plot, everything is immaculate, and felix, babe, I love you to death.

@danishmiilk my second moot on this hellhole and I hate you but I love you so I guess pemdas cancels that out. She is an amazing writer, her fics too deserve more attention. I honestly don't know what I would do without this bitch, we run the culture cafe together, and I'm such a dumbass at coding, but she does it(even if she does forget to add the https, but we won't talk about that okay) and she matches my chaotic energy perfectly. She's definitely not annoying (I wrote that with a straight face my dude, be proud), and I would do anything for her so yeah ily bye

@astroboy-lele furOU THE 40 YEAR OLD MAN ON FACEBOOK- I'm sorry, not really, oh well. Another underrated writer, her fics are really good too, and she was the one who encouraged me to start the net, and gave me the idea of a dark cafe aesthetic. She helped me with a lot of shit there too, and is a really good listener.

@orange-nimon-cross I scared as fuck of yunha, but I also love her. Shes honest and blunt af and I love that about her. She always gives me honest, actually helpful feedback a d if probably the first person I'd go to for said feedback. She deserves way more credit for her writing, its amazing, and her poetry? They're beautiful and deep and ineish I could write like that.

@rouiyan MISS REE ANOTHER WRITING INSPO AND A GREAT FRIEND honestly I met her and we just vibed tbh. She too helped me with my first fic by encouraging me, and I love her to death too. Very happy ahes back from hiatus, all my fists of love for you babe!

@yvezs mila I have no fucking clue what your posts mean half the time, but I love you anyways okay, you already know so I'm not gonna bother writing a long ass para, I'll annoy you later

@heartyyjeno ALESHA! honestly, she's so sweet, and her asks literally brighten up my day. Her writing is also amazing and just ugh, I love you and get very happy everytime I see you.

@moonbeamsung HANNAH BBY YOU'RE SO CUTE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH OMG you're the sweetest bean ever and your writing is the bomb.com. I hope we can get closer, because you never fail to make me feel better, or brighten up my day with a message or an ask.

@radiorenjun angie my fellow simp and hard stan letS GO- I know she's not always online, but she's always there when I need to simp, or when I need help with important descisions (what pic I should chose fir my lockcreen, for example) she's always there to simp for ten with me and our convos are questionable (she's seen my dark dark gallery man. If that's not friendship idk what it) . If you do want to summon her though, I suggest typing renjun or ten in a message, all caps.

@channoticedmeuwu kai. *heavy sigh* this bitch is honestly one of the best people, like she deals with ny shit posts, replIES TO THEM and even deals with my excessive simping like damn what angel are you (the fallen one, jK-) she also likes simping with me, even called for help once(it failed, but it's the thought that counts. She even tried helping me when my laptop fucked me over, which, surprise, it still is, but we barely even knew each other at the time?? How amazing is that?? But bitch stay the fuck away from taeyong thanks hyuck is the waiting.

@loonacitys I MET YOU TWO DAYS AGO BUT I ALREADY LOVE YOU WE LIVE I'M THE SAME DAMN CITY BYE OMG and she matches my crack head humour *cough* tHe gRoUp *cough* so yes another amazing hooman bean.

@sweetlyjaem she SIMPED WITH ME AMEN-

@ppangjae literally one of my biggest inspos for writing, I read seven letters and was inspired to pick up little princess again after it was sitting dying in a dark corner of google Docs for three days. Alex is so sweet, she didn't mind my chaotic awkward ass, and dealt with the long ass asks and the dozen of messages I sent her.

@kdongyoung ro is so sweet and chaotic I love it. Her edits are *chefs kiss* and she made my beautiful header which I will flex everytime I get the chance. We've not talked that much, but I still love you okay.

Moots I wanna know better-@jungwooisms @du0tine @moonttaeil @fruityutas @ooyoungs

I LOVE YOU ALL AND THANK YOU BYE

[struckbyelectriclove]

🌾 ∩^ω^∩

🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them

(oh my god i get to describe kat through merula’s eyes i’m LIVING!!! LIVING I TELL YOU)

“kat? she’s an idiot. a cute one, but still an idiot. well, i suppose she’s not that much of a moron, since she does get good grades, though not as good as the most powerful witch’s, of course. it does make her a good study partner, and the way her big grey eyes light up when she finally understands something she’s been struggling with… ahem. sorry, anyways, she’s… bubbly. very optimistic, all the time. it’s… refreshing? shes a bright spot in this hellhole of a school - d-don’t tell her i said that. i’ll hex you.”

[theres mumbling from the reporter]

“oh, yeah, lost the plot, my bad. i suppose she’s really sweet, even though she can be snappy and stubborn at times… that’s one of the thinks i lo - like. like about her, but don’t tell her i said that, too. if she puts her mind to something, she can achieve it, even if her goal is something dumb and stupid like beating me to the vaults - which she WONT DO, by the way. well, i guess she’s also pretty cute… her hair is nice and so is her smile…. i don’t mind her weird ears since it’s funny when she squeals when i poke them - you never heard that. you never did. o-oh right, uhh… things that are good about kat…. i suppose she’s also pretty muscular because of dueling… i’ve seen her pick up a whole fire crab, and i guess her legs are nice if she wears shorts - merlin, what the hell am i even saying?! this interview is over.”