#Apple parts authentication

[etechnewsglobal]

iPhone 14 and M2 Macs Now Part of Apple's Self-Service Repair Program

Apple expands its Self-Service Repair program to include the all-new iPhone 14 and the potent M2 Macs. The groundbreaking initiative, which permits users to take their device repairs into their own hands, continues revolutionizing how we interact with our devices and fosters a culture of tech empowerment. In the spirit of fostering autonomy and a DIY approach, Apple launched its Self-Service…

[yourstardarling]

Lilith Analysis

(Lady Lilith, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti)

In my perspective, Lilith symbolizes the female intuition which is often vilified in our patriarchal society. She questions the status quo, defying societal norms and forges her own path for how she lives her life. In some interpretations, Lilith is depicted as the serpent in the garden, tempting Eve with the apple as revenge for her expulsion after refusing to submit to Adam. Targeting Eve instead of Adam, shows how Lilith understands the curious nature within women to want to know more and what ifs. It is the same curiosity that made Pandora open the box releasing malicious spirits into the world.

The energy of Lilith is a vengeful one as she sought revenge against God for her banishment out of the garden. In her expulsion, she was stated to steal babies and harm innocent lives, unsympathetic to anyone in her way. So within our charts, Lilith shows where we've experienced profound shame and societal rejection. It is where we are often demonized for refusing to yield to others' expectations. If we don't heal this pain it often becomes a form of self-destruction, fueling a need to gain revenge, harming anyone in our path. This part of our chart is usually suppressed, relegated to the shadows, but integration of this energy is crucial. Mainly because keeping our shame underneath the surface will often cause self-sabotage within the house Lillith is in. Finding the underlying root of the problem will often lead to reclaiming of your power, making Lilith be an energy of magnetization and authority. Neglection will only exacerbate internal conflict.

Lilith in the 1st:In the first house, these individuals are the walking embodiments of Lilith. They are often faced with deep-seated feelings of shame regarding their sexuality and physical appearance. Many have endured the pain of bullying in their youth, which has made them feel shunned out from society. This shame becomes a heavy burden that feels as if it is a part of them, complicating efforts to express their true self openly. Consequently, a portion of their identity remains veiled, guarded against potential judgment or rejection from others. Yet, beneath this veil within their unconscious, lies a potent magnetism. A profound sense of sexuality that others find rather attractive or unsettling. They find themselves both desired and feared. But honestly like Britney said it’s because, "All of the boys and all of the girls want to if you seek Amy." Lilith's influence in this house encourages independence and self-assertion. It teaches the importance of standing firm in the face of societal pressures and refusing to be demonized for your own authenticity. However, yielding to criticism and seeking external validation risks facing internal conflicts. A constant battle against yourself. That is why confronting the shadow aspects of one's personality should be practiced, as it offers a pathway to self-discovery and empowerment. When you are able to show resilience and unwavering faith in yourself, you're able to garner admiration and respect from those around you. The ability to transmute pain into productive actions serves as a magnetic force, attracting allies and opportunities alike. Learning to embrace your inner sexual energy is imperative, as it is something that cannot be suppressed. Unfortunately, this embracement may invite unwanted attention, leaving you vulnerable to exploitation and trauma. Overall, the role of Lilith in the first house is one of self-acceptance and defiance against societal norms. It's a journey marked by challenges, but also by profound personal growth and authenticity.

Lilith in the 2nd: In the house of personal gains, Lilith has felt great shame surrounding her personal values. Individuals with this placement have a hard time surrounding their self worth and physical assets. Possessive tendencies lie beneath the surface, as a consequence from being betrayed in the past. People may have taken advantage of them for their material value and stolen from them. Financial wounds run deep making them unable to properly trust themselves with money. Might find themselves in cycles of reckless spending, prioritizing instant gratification over long term investments. The types go on a shopping spree and then feel guilty for indulging materialistically.These people can either be overindulgent or extremely picky when it comes to what they spend. There is an inherent value of pleasure and spending resources on things that make you feel good.The sign Lilith is in will give you an idea on what you unwarily spend money on and guide your financial decisions. Implementing a budget plan can be very beneficial in uncovering and healing shame surrounding your spending habits. It will help you regulate your spending. Underlying shadow challenges when it comes to self worth is another aspect of this placement. Leading to having doubts about deservingness and attaining success. Lilith in the 2nd, prompts a reevaluation of your values. Rather than being overly picky, you're encouraged to be intentional in your pursuits. Learn to align your investments with your deepest values and aspirations. Family dynamics may also contribute to your relationship with money, with the possibility of past generations engaging in questionable financial practices. Additionally, Lilith's immature aspects may tempt individuals to resort to unethical means of acquiring wealth, such as engaging in sex work or participating in illicit activities. However, succumbing to these temptations risks exploiting others and ultimately perpetuating cycles of harm. In navigating the influence of Lilith in the 2nd house, you are urged to exercise caution and integrity in financial dealings. By confronting shadows and cultivating a sense of self-worth, they can transcend shame and reclaim power over their financial well-being.

Lilith in the 3rd: When Lilith is in the third house of youth and mental stimulation, these individuals have deep shame within their speech and communication. Oftentimes they were demonized as a child, facing constant scrutiny about their childish behavior. Parental guardians made them seem like they were to blame for the smallest issues that occurred. In school they may have felt shunned out from their peers, becoming the target of bullying and ridicule. This ridicule can even come from their teachers that overly criticized them for not being the perfect student, leading them to feel like they were a bad kid. Might indicate having a speech impediment, having a hard time communicating how you feel and issues surrounding being able to read. Your intelligence was significantly downplayed from the earlier years of school which made you believe you were dumb. For this reason, you may prefer being quiet and only speaking when you are needed to, often avoiding starting conversation. To others you may seem standoffish when you speak, but instead it can be anxiety to say what you really want because of public reaction. This Lilith wound is one centered around your inner child and taking back power over your mind. Intrusive thoughts of feeling less than can often be an underlying trigger, but you must recognize that these voices in your head are not your own. It is programming from the ridicule you received as a kid. Mindfulness and meditation practices can help regulate the outside input that comes in your head. You're a very intellectually capable individual that often understands knowledge about topics considered unconventional by society. Don’t be ashamed of what you know and use it to teach other people information you are passionate about.

Lilith in the 4th: Within the house of home and heritage, Lilith has wrested with feeling of shame for her family background. These individuals can often grow up feeling sexually repressed by their family. Criticism for what they were and being called a slut for wanting to express themselves. This placement reminds me of Meg from Family Guy, and how she is consistently made the butt of all ridicule by her family. As you went through puberty, you could've felt uncomfortable being objectified by family members. Some could've faced even faced exploitation by their own family. There is a strange focus on purity within the household and committing towards conservative ideals of presenting yourself. From their point of view, you may be seen as someone who is promiscuous and disobeying traditional values. You might find it hard to feel at home within yourself because of these past afflictions. This can even lead to you feeling ashamed about your emotional responses, often viewing them as evil instead of necessary feelings. Aside from sexuality, this Lilith placement also indicates having shame regarding your origin. There might have been concealed truths about your birth, unraveling as you mature. Might have felt like your family were strangers and you did not belong with them. Issues with the mother figure can be highlighted by this placement. You don't get along well and could feel a sense of cruelty from her. A shadow side to you is kept veiled from your family, which makes you feel like an outsider by them. You may have a reputation of being the rebellious cousin. They may harbor outdated ideologies such as racism, homophobia and xenophobia, that makes you more ashamed of them. The home you grew up in may have been the cause of this shame too, because of its design or infestation issues. Overall, stepping away from your family's point of view of the world is a big factor with this Lilith placement. You cannot allow their lives to dictate who you are meant to be. Learning to nurture yourself and finding your own community is an essential part of your journey. As time pass, you may discover yourself becoming a space for other people to confide in about their personal issues. A testament to Lilith making a home for herself outside the boundaries of Eden.

Lilith in the 5th: In the fifth house, individuals have grappled with profound shame surrounding the way they experience pleasure within their lives. Their childhood may have been faced with restrictions on the ways they could have fun, such as engaging in hobbies solely to appease their parents rather than for personal enjoyment. Activities you found enjoyment in, felt like you needed to keep hidden away from other people in order to not get ridiculed. There are plenty of hobbies you enjoy that others will find unorthodox to have. For example, going to shooting ranges, participating in drag shows, taking part in the circus or cosplaying your favorite characters. When it comes to your talents, you might face envy from others because they want the attributes that you have. May face hate in your extracurricular activities and being outcasted by team members. In your own eyes, your often unsure about your talents and feel like you're not good enough in your practice. Additionally, there is also shame regarding sexual pleasure. You might find it fun to explore, but some experiences make it unsettling for you to enjoy. There may be a need to keep your sex life a secret from other people. However, sex positivity can be a notable aspect of this placement though, not having much conservative notions in your sexual experiences. When it comes to children, you might feel some shame for not wanting to have kids and face scrutiny from others for this stance. You can even feel like you hate the thought of children and not wanting them around you. If you do end up having kids, they can exhibit Lilith quality traits of rebellion and unorthodox behavior. There is definitely a shadow side to how you gain pleasure with this placement, indulging in self destructive behaviors and selling yourself away for fun. You must learn to tame that primal urge within you when you are having a great time. Especially as this can lead to addictions to pleasure, such as having a gambling, drug abuse and being overly sexual. Learn to set boundaries when you're having fun.

Lilith In the 6th: In the house of service, Lilith plays a commanding role within her work space. This placement reminds me of The Devil wears Prada, where Miranda was seen as a formidable figure by her colleagues. Similarly, coworkers may harbor similar feelings toward you, casting you as assertive & harsh. You may face a lot of scrutiny in the workplace and could even work in an environment where there's a prevalence of discrimination. Workplace harassment can occur here as well, oftentimes facing oversexualization. Navigating and accepting your shadow persona in the workplace becomes essential. As long as you come there to do your job, that’s all that matters. Just try not to lash out at your colleagues because of misconception and other issues. There may be a big rumor that you are lazy for not doing as much as everyone else. However, you're the type of person that only comes and does the work that is necessary, not overworking themselves as everyone else. On the flip side, you can be hyper focused on work and do a lot more in your day that others don’t really see. This can take a toll on your health and work stress can be a big indication of this placement. Speaking of health, you might have a terrible relationship with health officials. Health experts in the past might have treated you poorly and even faced a misdiagnosis. Your relationship with health overall is something you can feel intense emotions around. A health condition could make you feel like you don’t have the same capabilities as other people. Might struggle with digestion and eating food to nourish yourself. There is a lot of necessary shadow work to uncover within your habits and daily routines with this placement. Learn to not be so hard on yourself, making time to properly maintain your physical needs.Health is wealth after all.

Lilith In the 7th: When Lilith lies in the house of partnerships, there is often shame surrounding the close connections these people have. They often easily attract people with Lilith energy in their lives, such as rebellion, ostracization and outcasts. You're often able to see the version of others that they keep hidden underneath. For some reason, people can feel like they can trust you with their problems and you make space to not judge them. Something about you just allows people to feel easily able to open up their shame to you. It might be because there is a part of you that has felt the same shame of being shunned out by other people. In your love life, there could be a tendency to feel outcasted by your partners which leads to having a warped perception of yourself. Partners often can make you feel like you are too much and incapable of being loved. May find it hard to feel their needs being met in their personal relationships. Here lilith indicates issues of being taken advantage of by other people and personal power being exploited. Aggressive aspects can also show facing abuse, which can make these individuals pretty guarded when meeting others. You could feel the need to be in control and have a dominant role in your love life. However, self-destructive tendencies may spur from not getting what you want out of a partner and lead you sabotaging your connections. You can often pursue relationships you know are unhealthy for you. There’s a tendency to want people that bring out an unhinged version of yourself, becoming a whole different person with a partner. Shadow work needs to be done as to why you chase these toxic connections, which sometimes is rooted from the way you viewed the partnership of your parents.

Lilith in the 8th: In the house of death and loss, Lilith is put to face the extremes. Each time they are in a transitional phase in their lives, they get kicked out of their paradise. These individuals understand the darker sides of life and are somewhat good at navigating their shadow. Shadow side can often take things to the extreme when they are out of control. Really good at understanding the taboo and being okay with things that are scarier for other people. A necessary need to make peace with inner demons and resolving past psychological conflicts. While they are able to easily exude a seductive persona, sex can be a harsh topic for them to feel comfortable with. Losing their virginity might have been a monumental experience that shifted the way they act in their lives. There is a need to work on resolving issues with sex and not being afraid of it . Also, you might be into some fetishes that you feel the need to keep hidden from other people. Hiding is a big coping mechanism for them, whenever they feel like the world rejects them, they bury themselves down in shadows to not be seen. A distinct relationship with death, some hold huge guilt for being unphased by death, while others worry about their own deaths. If a family member had died, you might feel guilty for not being sad or crying at the funeral. These people can mourn their innocence a lot, thinking of a time they were untouched by the world around them. During transitional phases of your life, you could be vilified and demonized for acting differently. Might have had a dark aesthetic or emo phase during your teen years. Change can be a scary thing for you and you could harbor strong resistance towards new possibilities. This mainly comes from the scrutiny you’ve felt by other people. Learn to embrace the taboo and understand change will only allow you to reclaim your power.

Lilith in the 9th: These individuals hold a complex relationship with religion and belief systems. Growing up, they likely experienced a religious environment that instilled fear and submission to authority. It's possible they had overly religious parents who prioritized adherence to faith, rather than showing genuine love and understanding for their children. As you mature, there's a tendency to reject traditional systems of beliefs for more esoteric philosophies, helping you find empowerment through alternative spiritual paths. Although shifting your beliefs will allow you to have a sense of freedom, remnants of past religious trauma still linger in your mind. Guilt for what you believe in is a big focus for this placement. They often find themselves at odds with mainstream perspectives, feeling a sense of alienation and struggling to fit in. There's a tendency to doubt their intelligence and the information they know. This struggle extends to academic pursuits as well, where they may feel out of place and struggle to connect with their peers. Moving away from their area of upbringing can be liberating, allowing them to explore their shadow aspects and embrace their darker side through travel and adventure. In doing so, they may discover a newfound magnetism and allure, attracting others to their path towards self-discovery.

Lilith in the 10th: In the house of public career, Lilith exerts a strong influence on one's outward image and persona. When in public settings, you often see people being easily magnetized towards you. If Lilith is conjunct the Midheaven (MC), it can signify experiences of unwanted attention, including catcalling. There's a deep-seated fear of being seen, stemming from the difference between your public persona and true self-image. Overexposure to the public eye can lead to discomfort, particularly in career fields where others seem to dominate or overshadow you. There is a natural ability to exude sensuality that others find intriguing. They may develop a reputation for sensuality and allure, which can intimidate others, particularly men, due to the inherent power they radiate. Despite the fantasization, they may resent the objectification and sexualization. In professional settings their bosses may even attempt to take advantage of them. This placement can also indicate stage fright and social anxiety, causing them to prefer the sidelines rather than the spotlight. An unbalanced version of this placement would be sabotaging yourself when it comes to your career. Promoting bad behavior so that you can gain the upper advantage in situations. It's crucial for them to be vigilant against exploitation by authority figures and to properly navigate professional relationships and contracts. Despite potential misconceptions about their character, individuals with this placement must embrace their authenticity and prioritize their own career aspirations over societal expectations. Your that b*tch for real, and you cannot allow the public opinion of you to dictate who you are. Also, Lilith in the 10th house may signify a challenging relationship with their father, involving absence, mistreatment, or attempts at control. This further fuels aspirations to become a successful person, in order to prove their farther wrong. Embracing their power and authenticity is important for success and fulfillment in the professional world.

Lilith in the 11th: Friendships are never easy with Lilith in the 11th. Despite outward display of support, these individuals frequently encounter betrayal from those they consider close allies, discovering that supposed friends harbor secret animosity and ulterior motives towards them. Friends could make jokes about insecurities you have, while accusing you of being soft for finding offence. Your secrets are not the safest within your social networks, they are like blind items ready to spill all the tea about your personal life. This atmosphere of distrust can lead to a cautious approach to forming friendships, resulting in a preference for family and romantic relationships over the unpredictability of friendships. Despite these challenges, individuals with this placement often gravitate towards unconventional or marginalized groups of people. Finding companionship in the outcasts who defy societal norms. They may become strong advocates for the rights and liberation of marginalized groups, focusing on the need for women's rights and the empowerment of societal underdogs. So while friendships may be met with much difficulty, these individuals create meaningful connections with fellow non-conformists in society. Finding solidarity in their shared struggles, leading to finding community outside of Eden.

Lilith in the 12th: Individuals with Lilith in the 12th house tend to keep Lilith's energy to the depths of their subconscious mind. They are often unaware of its magnetic, rebellious, and sexually charged nature. May doubt their own sexuality and seductive capabilities, feeling overshadowed by others charm. However, when in solitude, Lilith emerges to confront them about their inner shadows and demons. This often leads to solitary battles with their deepest fears and insecurities. Sleep issues are common with this placement, as they may struggle to maintain a stable sleep routine. May prefer the quiet solitude of the night for introspection and self-discovery. In their dreams, they often confront scenarios designed to evoke feelings of inadequacy and shame, forcing them to confront their inner vulnerabilities. They can be drawn towards dream working, meditation, shifting and exploring unique ways to access their subconscious mind. By using the arts, they can transmute fears and underlying issues in their mind to a reservoir of creativity. You can often see their shadow portrayed boldly in their art. Also, these individuals are often empathetic and hold nonjudgmental view towards the shadows of other people. Overall, through uncovering their darkness, Lilith in the 12th house can lead to spiritual growth and artistic development when integrated unapologetically.

____

Remember to look at the aspects to Lilith in your chart. Since it is an astrological point & asteroid, it doesn't hold as much significance compared to the planets. So aspects allow you to know how much of this energy can be brought up to the surface. Also, this reading is for all versions of Lilith in the chart.

-your Star Darling

(Portrait of Simonetta Vespucci, by Piero Di Cosimo)

[justjudethoughts]

I hope my ex-friends smile when they think of me. I hope, that when they remember all of our childhood summers, they think "wow, she really loved me." I hope, no matter where they are or how old they grow, that when they feel alone they know that sometime, somewhere, I loved them because they were worth loving. And that they are still worth loving.

I hope they remember our bike adventures to the creek and cutting up apples with a pocket knife. I hope they know that every little token of friendship I gave them, every necklace from claires, every Christmas present, was real. That I meant it with every fiber of my 12 year-old self. I hope they remember authenticity.

I hope I helped make them become the people they are today. I hope the people I loved as a child have been loved into a little better shape (in part) because of me. I hope it made a difference, even if it ended.

Maybe I'm too nostalgic, a little too sentimental, but I refuse to believe that childhood friendships don't mean anything. We laid in the grass and watched the clouds, talking about God and life too many times for me to believe it didn't form a part of me—and maybe it did them, too.

[hobiebrownismygod]

Researching Characters so you don't have to Part 1: Hobie Brown & His Accent

Art above IS NOT MINE! Click for the link to the original art! Artist: @Jay19

A lot of people write Hobie Brown like Tom Holland, but this just isn't accurate if you want to write a good fan fiction. Hobie is a homeless black teen from the 70s, who was born in Cambridge, and is also a punk. He's not gonna sound like Aaron Warner or Tom Hiddleston. Just because he has a British accent doesn't mean he's going to sound like your average British movie star.

British English is a dialect, not technically an accent. An accent is how someone pronounces words, while a dialect includes pronunciations, but also includes general vocabulary and grammar. This means that despite Hobie speaking English, he won't use the same vocabulary that American-English speakers use, so if you write him that way it won't be accurate.

The British accent that most people are used to is called Received Pronunciation, which is considered the "upper-class" British Accent. However, Hobie does not have a a Received Pronunciation accent. He's cockney. They do not sound the same as upper-class British people, and have a completely different set of vocabulary.

How do you write a cockney accent?

Rule 1: Never pronounce the "H"

For example, house becomes 'ouse. Hat becomes 'at. Hello becomes 'Ello. By writing the words with an apostrophe in place of the "h", it would read more accurately.

Rule 2: -ing becomes -in

For example, running becomes runnin'. Helping becomes 'elpin' (because both the h and the g are silent). Walking becomes walkin'. Those speaking in a cockney accent don't pronounce the "g" part of the ending -ing.

Rule 3: Words starting with "th-" are usually replaced with "f-"

For example, thing becomes fing. This becomes fis. However, don't overdo it. If you write out every word starting with an f, it'll become difficult to read. Only do it if you're trying to enunciate some words over others. Even if you're trying to write an accent, it should still be comprehensible.

There's other rules as well, but these were the main three I saw during my research!

How do you write a cockney dialect?

Cockney rhyming slang

Hobie consistently uses Cockney rhyming slang in ATSV. For example, he calls Miles, "Peter Pan" which is Cockney rhyming slang for "Little man". Using Cockney rhyming slang can make your writing seem more authentic

Some other examples are "Apples and pears" for stairs. "bees and honey" for money, etc. You can google other ones for any words you want to use!

As always research is your best friend, so while writing Hobie, make sure to have another page open with lots of slang and other words available for you to use in your writing to make your character sound as authentic as possible!

Note: I'm not cockney nor British, so if you see any mistakes with my writing, please let me know <3

[evvyyypeters-fics]

Tricks and Treats🎃

A Halloween Special!

Alive!Kyle Spencer x f!reader Headcanons

Warnings! Headcanons (may be OOC, hopefully not), some smut/ nsfw, f!gering, oral (f!recieving), períod sėx, mentions of p n v, mainly fluff, not proofread

Requested by @vi0l3tgard3ns

I really wanted to do this, but bc I’m having issues rn with my laptop, I decided to write some quick headcannons instead. I tried to an even amount of SFW and NSFW. Also, Happy Halloween everyone! Hope you had/ have a great time!

Sfw

• Kyle loves hanging out with his frat boy friends, but holidays are different. You’re the most important thing to him, so he’ll choose to spend the night with you any day. But especially a holiday, and Halloween is definitely no exception

• Kyle would immediately come up with wacky ideas for matching costumes if you brought up the topic

• He wouldn’t mind trick or treating with you if that’s what you wanted, going around confidently in your costumes and picking up candy at each house like you’re kids again (despite being college students :p)

• He’d prefer most to stay home with you and either hand out candy or snuggle up and watch scary movies in matching Halloween pajamas, munching on candy and popcorn. Possibly both at the same time.

• He’ll pretend he’s not as scared of the movie than he actually is. But you can tell when he fidgets a bit and smoothly holds you tighter, usually sliding his hand into yours and squeezing. He’d brush it off as him trying to comfort you instead.

• If you’re scared of the movie, he’d cover your eyes and ears until the scene is over and you can continue watching the less bothersome parts. Maybe giving you a few head rubs/ pets and soothing kisses along your face until your heartbeat stopped racing and your anxiety calmed.

• If you’re not into scary movies, he’d put on Tim Burton and Charlie Brown with you. Again, he’ll pretend that he’s a little more tough and that he doesn’t enjoy it as much as he does. But he’s too gentle and sweet to be the image he tries to mimic of his friends. (He’s working on coming out of it though and being more authentic, especially because he wants to be fully comfortable being himself around you).

• He’d make sure that Halloween night isn’t the only time you celebrate. The whole month he’ll take you on small dates to the pumpkin patch, the orchard, a fall fest, some cafes to buy all their halloween specials. You’ll carve pumpkins at home and decorate your houses, you’ll definitely go shopping together for your costumes. Matching or not.

• He’d tease you and goof around, trying on all the stupid and scary items hanging in Spirit Halloween or whatever costume shop. He’ll try to scare you on some occasion, but it’s purposely corny, and of course, you’ll try and get him back and he just has the biggest grin on his face.

• Kyle jokes about the pumpkin spice craze, but secretly he’s part of the hype. I think his favorite flavor for fall would be Apple Cinnamon though.

• If you had a pet together, he’d convince you to dress them up in a costume too, and if you were matching—of course your pet would too.

• If you’re on your period that week, he’d buy lots of chocolate from the store for you, and some to hand out, letting you eat any of the leftovers. He’d have a heating pad ready for you when you snuggle and watch movies, having you laying back against his chest as his hands rest over the heating pad on your abdomen.

Nsfw

• If you bought a skimpy costume, one that showed any amount of your curves and body flauntingly, he’d lose his mind. He’d be focused on it all night and his mind might trail a little when he’s around you or you walk by. He’s definitely checking you out very obviously, even though he’s trying to hide it. Sometimes.

• If you teased him any amount in costume, even if you were at a Halloween party with his friends, he’d find a place to fuck the shit out of you until neither of you can think.

• His favorite sexy costumes would probably be (not in order): Playboy Bunny/ Bunny costume, sexy cop, sexy lifeguard, sexy angel or devil, sexy cheerleader.

• Since it’s Halloween, he’d subtly ask to involve candy during sexy. Like rubbing your lips and tongue with a lollipop so he can lick the sugar off when you kiss. Or covering your skin in a little chocolate sauce or whipped cream. He’d go crazy if you wore a skimpy costume and let him lick whip cream off your nipples (he’d more like inhale it, but y’know. Same difference.)

• If you decide not to dress up and stay home, he’d find a way to finger you or eat you out on the couch while you’re watching a movie. Oh, you’re too scared while watching the movie? Well here, let’s distract you with some mind numbing, knuckle deep massaging in your pussy while we watch, so you don’t have to worry. You’re bored? Why don’t you lay back while I let you grind yourself on my tongue and nose.

• It’d most likely eventually lead to the both of discarding the movie marathon and just fucking on the couch for the rest of the night until you fall asleep. The movie still playing in the background. Talk about Netflix and Chill.

• If he was feeling really frisky, he might ask you to try some spiked aphrodisiac candy with him to see how long you can last before one of you finally caves. Of course, the first one to cave is punished, but you’ll worry about that tomorrow.

• If you’re on your period, he’ll dress up as a vampire and beg to eat you out and fuck you. It’s ridiculous, but strangely hot. He says that it’s to “help with cramps” and that it would be the perfect opportunity, but it’s obvious that’s just an excuse because he wanted to try it with you after regularly helping you on your period (and doing some research) and was too embarrassed to ask until now. (You end up caving and it’s the best and strangest experience you’ll ever have. And of course you’ll want to do it again. Even after Halloween.)

Tag list (you can be added or removed at any time):

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife @dearlizzies @americanwh0rerstory @xrag-dollx @lacucarachapisser @alittleobsessedbitch @n0tonlin3 @bellalove69420 @songbird-garden

[7grandmel]

Happy anniversary, Undertale!

Before Undertale released, Toby Fox was most known for his music contributions for projects like Homestuck, alongside independent doujin work such as tribute albums. In 2011, in response to jokey feedback saying that much of his music sounded like Touhou music, Toby shared an audio recording of him playing "improvised" Touhou music (audio above) on piano, with commentary paired alongside it. As part of this commentary, he dubbed the boss fight theme "AN APPLE DISASTER!", and declared the theme to belong to the original character "Apple Girlington".

4 years later, just after Undertale's release, soon-to-be SiIvaGunner ripper and Touhou specialist Princess Sylvysprit released an arrangement of this made-up boss theme arranged in the authentic style of ZUN's Touhou music. As you can see, this rearrangement was directly seen and endorsed by Toby Fox!

You can also hear a remastered version of this arrangement on her 2019 album, Touhou: Fraternity of Melancholy, the audio for which is linked above.

Princess Sylvysprit has made an incredible amount of tributes to Touhou and its music in her time online, both for her own projects and others', including the SiIvaGunner channel which she joined in early 2016. If you're interested in reading more about her work, I've previously written about her on NIGHTMARESCAPE 〜Unrestrained HyperCam 2〜 (Final Boss Phase 2)!

Princess Sylvysprit

Original Toby Fox post

Sylvysprit's Arrangement

[muzansfangs]

Bloodstain.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; mention to past Shuhei Hisagi x f!reader;

Format: multi-chapers story;

Warnings for this chapter: nsfw, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, mention to violence and blood, strong language, choking, hair pulling, biting, marking the partner, kind of toxic dynamic, unprotected sex, touch-starved Sosuke, dom!Aizen, sub!reader, degradation kink, drunk sex, unhealthy coping mechanism;

Plot: Waking up in a familiar room, you soon are face to face with your ‘former’ enemy. Your reunion with Sosuke is intense and, in the heat of the moment, you are overwhelmed by your own emotions. Finding comfort in his arms was not something you had planned, just imagine moaning his name at the top of your lungs

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𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

"You are not like them".

You propped your chin over your hand, elbows resting on the table. You could almost hear your step-mother scolding you in the back of your head, her soothing voice inviting you not to forget about your usual composed and inflexible sense of respect for the rules of polite society. In other circumstances, you would have probably listened to her. But not now, when you were confronting the devil himself.

"You are right. Something is clearly wrong with me. — you replied, focusing on the way he was leisurely running the pad of his index around the rim of his goblet — After all, I should cut you down right on the spot. I wonder why I am still sitting at your table, listening to you talking absolute nonsense instead" your voice was distant, devoid of any other emotion that was not sheer frustration.

Sosuke seemed unaffected by your dry words. His lips curved into a pale imitation of a genuine smile. But you knew better than deem anything coming from him as genuine, authentic. Treacherously, he had fooled the entire Soul Society and even you, after he had helped you hiding in his barracks, when the entire Gotei was hunting down you along with Ichigo and his friends.

"You haven't touched your food yet. — he noted, changing the topic of your conversation, his fox eyes softening whilst subtly inspecting your dish — You must be famished" he said, bringing his glass of red wine to his lips.

Your gaze followed his gesture, your stomach churning for both the hunger and, actually, the untainted feeling of being attracted to him. Suppressing your desires had never been so unfairly difficult. It was not a merely carnal whim setting your heart ablaze. It was a devious emotion you could not comprehend.

You snorted, averting your eyes from him and focusing on the white marble at your feet instead "How do I know you have not poisoned it?" you bitterly asked him, jaw clenching in indignation. The smell of the delicious, exotic dish he had asked his Arrancars to prepare for you was flinging around you, the unintentional whiffs you had taken had made your mouth salivate like a starving animal.

Damn him and his villainous antics.

The sound of a chair being dragged on the floor made your head whip towards him again, your heartrate increasing while your hand aimlessly searched for the hilt of your zanpakuto supposed to be secured on your hip, obviously forgetting he had asked Ulquiorra to confiscate it.

Your eyes had widened in horror, upon seeing him approaching you. His feet did not even make a sound, his ethereal way of existing and letting his presence overwhelm whomever was in his area was inhebriating. What you felt was not fear, seeping into your heart and paralyzing you. It was far from that. There was curiosity and defiance in your eyes that the observant man in front of you did not fail to notice.

His hand swiftly reached for the fork, abandoned carelessly on the table. You did not even register him sticking the utensil into a piece of caramelized apple that it was already probing delicately at your parted lips. The sugary taste coating your bottom lip made you flick your gaze up to meet his one, unable to resist the temptation of having a small taste. You had no idea of what game he was playing, a mind game of chess, probably, and he was winning once again. Hazardously opening your mouth, tongue sticking out enough to lick the sugar away from your lips and let your tastebuds explode at the contact of the sweet apple, you gasped as he quickly withdrew his hand and shoved it elegantly into his mouth instead.

He chewed on the morsel of the fruit, gaze transfixed on you and the way you were still looking at him flabbergasted by the action. Messing with you was decidedly his strange addiction. Restraining himself, though, was out of discussion. Just when you thought it could not get any worse, his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, tracing it slowly to collect the small remnants the sugar had left behind, before bringing it into his mouth and sucking it clean.

"I guess now you know the food is edible" he chimed, before discarding the fork into your plate and turning his back at you, leaving you alone with your skin on fire and the rational version of you fading into the abyss of shame and repugnance you pictured yourself in for your inability to block him out of your head.

Your fingers twitched, a silky material making contact with the pads of your fingers as you gradually came back to your senses. Was that a blanket? It did not matter. Bittered, all you could think about was that the loathsome fragment of your past had resurfaced again. You thought you were finally over it, but casting away such experiences was something hardly feasible. This was a core memory that had been pestering you for years. Your permanence in Hueco Mundo had, boyond the shadow of a doubt, scarred you more than you liked to admit to yourself, let alone the others. Triggering it back to life had been the inexplicable appearence of the guest star of your ‘nightmare’ right before your eyes.

Lifting your heavy eyelids up, you noticed your vision was still blurry, dotted, and you quickly blinked a couple of times to clear it out. Wooden architraves and a white ceiling welcomed you in your temporary and oddly familiar shelter. Following the dim yellowish light enlightening the room, your eyes took in the sight of a small lamp on a nightstand at your left. Albeit you had been hiding yourself in this place for two days, you could have never forgotten the minimalistic design of this particular room. You knew this place, your assumptions were proved correct. This was Sosuke’s chamber, back when he was still the kind-hearted Captain of the Fifth Division, the gentleman who had not hesitated to let you use his private quarters as a safehouse to escape the eye of the other Captains.

You should have known a swordsman who had betrayed his comrades by helping the enemy meant no good.

Reminiscing about the time when you believed he was a good man was tantamount of feeding yourself a placebo to forget about the real monster he really was. All you had to do now was flee, leaving that place behind you as soon as possible. Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you let out a soft groan of discomfort, your joints protesting for the effort you were forcing them to make, while you attempted to swing your legs towards the edge of the bed. Letting your feet touch the floor was all you could do, though. To stop you from going further was the wave of intense reiatsu knocking the air out of your lungs for a few seconds. How could you forget he was indeed there too? It was terrifying how his spiritual pressure had not decreased at all, intensifying at unbearable levels instead.

“It’s pouring outside and you’re in no condition to leave this room” his baritone voice pierced your ears, your hands cupping your knees as you dipped your head between your arms in defeat.

He was right, as per usual.

“What are you doing here? I thought Captain Kyoraku had given the order to lock you back into Muken” you replied, refusing to turn around and face him. With your gaze trained on the floorboard, you finally realized your shoes had been removed and you sighed in relief upon ascertaining your thin thigh highs were still on. At least, he had not touched you more than it was strictly necessary.

You heard him sigh, the dull and monotone sound of footsteps echoing in the room preannouncing he was getting closer to you. You stiffened, turning your head to the side, but a gloved hand grasping your jaw roughly and forcing you to look its owner in the eye made you scoff. There he was, standing in all his glory before your eyes, his placid expression making you feel like someone had smashed a glass on your forehead. Handsome in that angelic way that jarred with his personality, Sosuke Aizen was staring intently at your face, his dark eyebrow quirking up expectantly.

Swatting his hand away abruptly, you scooted back on the bed to put some adequate distance between you two, all the while keeping your eyes on him in case he tried to yank you back towards him.

“Don’t touch me. Answer my question” you deadpanned, knitting your eyebrows together and shifting into a kneeling position, ready to attack him if things escalated.

Sosuke grinned, eyes scrutinizing your body shamelessly, before letting his gaze drift back to your face “Now, isn’t it ironic? Every single time I touched you, you had always let me do it without budging to protest. — he started, his characteristic soothing tone of voice causing your upper lip to twitch in annoyance — What’s changed?”.

There was not a dim ounce of a lie in his words. You had never pushed him away, terrorized by his way to find excuses to let your fingers meet, or his hands to slither down your body more than it was necessary during a fight. He indulged in the tension he created with his typical casual attitude, not exposing himself too much, but subtly making sure his intentions were clear to you and that your desires were just as impure as his ones. It drove you mad back then and you had almost missed that feeling of wanting to slaughter him and kiss him so violently at the same time, bathing into a pool of your blood, of his own blood.

You decided to ignore his provocation “What are you doing here?” you pressed through gritted teeth, your voice the only audible sound beside the pattering of the rain against the roof and the glass of the window.

“Enjoying my freedom. You could say I’ve been put on probation for having generously contributed in defeating Yhwach”.

Your eyes widened, watching him showing you two mettalic wristbands secured around his wrists. Thinking about your encounter on the battlefield, you were more than sure he was not wearing them. Whatever this device was had surely been slapped around his wrists after the battle ended. Letting your gaze sizing him up inquisitively, you took notice of other details in his attire. Beside from his eye-patch and the gloved hands, he was not wearing that weird robe to contain his reiatsu, but a simple uniform and greyish haori.

Catching your wandering eyes, Sosuke proceeded to elaborate “Those bands are a gift from Kisuke Urahara. — he clarified, glancing at the said objects scornfully — Apparently, I won’t need to wear that ridiculous costume anymore to contain my powers. He claimed those and the eye-patch will suffice. I decided on my own accord to keep the gloves, in case I felt like murdering him, or the new Captain Commander himself” he stated, making you uncomfortably fidgeting with the hem of your skirt.

Honestly, you had no idea how to feel about this. The Central 46 and Shunsui had clearly miscalculated the consequences of setting the special threat free to roam the streets of the Seireitei. With the time he had spent alone in his cell, Sosuke had had enough time to plan another way to demolish the Soul Society and, considering his resentment for your family and friends, the World of the livings too. You were not even sober enough to concentrate. Were the others aware of the freedom granted to him?

“I don’t believe you” you whispered, your hands clutching the fabric of your skirt so tightly your knuckles whitened.

You could already forsee a catastrophy raining down on you and you could not endure more pain and suffering. Not after the recent events, obviously. You were still mentally recovering from the disaster caused by the Sternritters to weild you sword again and point it at Sosuke’s throat again.

“I’m offended. I never lied to you”.

“Yes, you did. When I first met you, Sosuke. You made me believe you were a good man. I have trust issues because of you” you snapped, banging your fist onto the mattress to accentuate your irritation.

“I’m not responsible for what you thought of me, just for what I did for you. I gave you a shelter, but I do not recall telling you I was a good person. — he flatly declared, tilting his head to the side as he scanned your body language — I had no intention to hurt you and I did not. We only clashed swords because you attacked me, after I cut your step-brother open” he punctuated, flash-stepping away just in time to dodge your assault.

You groaned as your blade was now planted onto the wall, right where he was supposed to be a second ago. Your grip on the hilt of your katana tightened, as you heard him humming under his breath. He had hit a nerve and he could not expect you to keep your cool. Rukia’s screams and the sight of your brother slumping onto the ground in a pool of blood had made you see red that day. You aimed to kill, you craved Sosuke’s death.

“I suggest you to cut the crap, because you are not into Muken and no one’s around to stop me from killing you” you coldly said, pulling your sword out of the wall and pointing it back at him. You could tell he was amused by the way he was lifting the angles of his mouth in a lopsided grin you knew way too well.

“I have to correct you. No one would try to stop you anyway. But the real question is: would you be able to kill me?” Sosuke taunted you, a gust of wind whipping your face the only hint you got to realize he was right behind you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, twirling around to swing your sword, but he deftly parred your attack by gripping your blade between his thumb and forefinger. Your movements had been too slow, despite you had gotten much stronger since you two last fought. Clearly, the saké was still in your bloodstream. The moment he tossed your katana away, your back was flattened against the wall, the sound of the blade clattering on the floor making your blood run cold. His hand around your throat, holding you up against the wall, was enough to keep you in place.

His face was dangerously close to yours, his hot breath fanning your lips as your feet kicked the air aimlessly. You thought it was going to be your end, as his half-lidded eye stared deeply into yours. You hated how powerless you felt in his hands, even when you were trying to scratch his arm to convince him to loosen his grip on your neck.

“You are in no shape to fight. Defeating a drunk opponent is against my morals” he cooed, watching you strive to get free.

“Morals? Screw you, since when you have morals?” you fired back, hand flying up to grab a fistful of his soft hair. Not even this was enough to make him desist and ended up spitting on his face out if spite.

Sosuke huffed, his grip on your neck loosening completely as you flopped onto the floor, coughing and panting to steady your breath. Palms planted onto the smooth surface of the floorboards, you squeezed your eyes shut to collect yourself. You were pretty sure his iron grip on your tender flesh would have caused purple bruises to appear on your skin to remind you of how stupid you had been to act solely on your instinct. Wrath, rage, frustration. You had let it all out the moment you had hastily unsheathed your sword with the intent of beheading him.

To interrupt your stream of consciousness was his voice again “I think it’s time to talk about how you ended up swooning on my doorway. Was it Kyoraku’s suggestion to drink your problems away?” he inquired from behind you.

It took you a moment to calm down and push yourself back up, only now assessing how your body was still highly affected by the excessive alcohol consumption. You should have known better than venturing in the Soul Society alone, while out of your mind. You were supposed to be the responsible silbling. The older one, the brilliant one, the selfless one. Yet, there you were: drunk and having a private conversation with your worst enemy.

“Why do you care? Are you interested in pursuing a career as a therapist now? Well, you would suck as a psychologist. — you grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose, while leaning back against the wall for support — An emotionally constipated man, who spent a couple of years in isolation, does not allure people to open up about their problems” you ranted, as he took a seat on the edge of his bed seemingly determined to listen to you.

Once again, his face did not leave you room for interpretation about his thoughts. Stoic, unbothered, he resembled a Sphinx. He was enigmatic, too secretive to try to have a normal conversation with.

He closed his eye “Then I will start making assumptions until I hit the nail on the head… Which, considering your inability to mask your emotions, will take me less than a minute” he cooed, clicking his tongue, when you glared at him before ambling towards the desk.

You thought that with your back facing him, he would have not been able to read your face, but you underestimated his powers.

“When a woman stoops that low, it’s pretty evident her problem has the name of a man”.

“Zip it”.

“It’s that pathetic excuse of a Lieutenant, isn’t it? Shuhei Hisagi” he hypothesized, making you halt and look at him in utter disbelief.

Did he know about you and Shuhei? How? Had he been spying on you? It was not possible. Still, how had he been so precise as to ask about that Lieutenant?

“How…” you mumbled, curling your hands around the edge of the desk behind you, lips parted in shock. You had almost missed his way of playing with your mind. No one had ever been capable to easily read your thoughts.

Sosuke smirked “You smelt like him”.

His remark made you freeze solid, brows furrowing before he cut you off again, walking up towards you “His reiatsu. It’s lingering on you. Quite the disturbing element, I have to say” he explained, making you rub the back of your neck in flusteredness.

Now that you were sobering up, bringing up Shuhei and the reason why you had bought that bottle of saké was a slap on the face, a cold shower. You had too much pent up anger and anxiety to deal with. The teardrop falling from your lashes came as a surprise to you, your fingers reaching up to quickly wipe it away, hoping he had not paid enough attention to spot it. Even if he had not, it would have made no difference since more tears began to ooze out of your eyes uncontrollably. A silent cry, the lump in your throat growing, as you cussed under your breath for this pathetic display of weakness in front of someone who did not even have a heart in his chest. Embarrassing, to say the least.

You sighed and tried to head to the bathroom, glad you knew your way around his private quarters. Sosuke, on the other hand, had other plans. His hand latched around your wrist yanked you back against him, you nose accidentally bumping onto his chest, as you let out an almost inaudible gasp. You blinked up at him through teary eyes, his free hand gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he pushed the small of your back against the edge of a desk.

“What has he done that I haven’t to bring tears to your eyes?” he wondered and you swallowed forcefully.

You were probably overreacting and the liquor in your system was making you emotional “I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you… I thought drinking would have gotten him out of my head, or maybe helped me to relax. Well, shame on me. Happy now?” you reasoned, shaking your head as he just seemed to push you harder against the desk. The edge was biting onto the small of your back, your already unsteady balance making you unintentionally grip onto his haori not to fall backwards.

Breathing seemed harder now that he was this close. His cologne pierced your nostrils and you mentally cursed yourself for the inappropriate things your body craved. Obnubilated mind, weak mainstay, you watched how he tangled his fingers in your hair and tugged on them, forcing you to crane your neck in a optimal position to look at him straight in the eye. It already felt wrong, the thunders exploding outside reminding you of what you were letting him to do you. Things he had always wanted to do to you, but that he never did.

“There are plenty of other ways to forget about such trivial matters without compromising your liver. — he stated, eye softening as he leaned closer to you, nosing your cheek delicately — Why don’t you let me show you what a man who is starving can really do?” he murmured in your ear, his tone dropping a few octaves and making your knees almost buckle.

“What can a starving man do to someone who cannot stop thinking about another man?” you idly replied with a question, only to shudder as he let out a dry laughter.

“He can fuck him out of your head. Something I will very much do” he rasped out, capturing your lips with his in a fiery kiss.

You did not hesitate to return it, your lips moving in sync, molding together, as his grip on your hair only tightened. Your body reacted to the stimulations, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as if a gust of wind had awaken them from their slumber, forcing their wings to bat erratically and fly away. Your inhibitions were gone, the feeling of finally being able to taste the forbidden fruit, his sinful lips, granting him the chance to hook his hands underneath your thighs and pick you up to settle you on the top of his desk.

Maybe you were so lost into the realm of bliss, his tongue entering your mouth with a growl coming from the back of his throat, that you could swear he almost trembled. His knee soon forced your legs to spread, his hand unceremoniously ripping your uniform open. The sight of your bra, pushing your breasts up, was the last drop before he lost control. All of this, all of you, the girl he had had his eyes on from the day you first met, was now at his mercy, out of breath. He desired to devour you whole, to own every inch of your skin, but he almost felt inadequate. More than touching you, all he needed was to be touched and he would have rather died than admitting it out loud.

Mouth latching onto your neck, he sank his teeth onto your flesh, his hands tugging your skirt down your hips “Control your reiatsu, it’s unstable” he hissed, your cheeks heating up as you realized he was right.

People could think you were in the middle of a fight, or hurt. The last thing you needed now was for someone to burst into that room and ruin this, whatever it was. Why? Because you were dying to feel him deep inside you, to let Sosuke Aizen, a monster, stain you like a bloodstain that could not be washed away.

You lifted your hips, the skirt falling down your legs, as you kicked it off of your ankle “As if you cared about someone walking in” you breathed out, head lolling back in pleasure as his hand slipped past the waistband of your panties. You shuddered, as his gloved fingers seeked your throbbing clitoris, skilfully drawing circles over it to send jolts of pleasure throughout your body.

Sosuke groaned, before stopping to tug your thin underwear down as well, following the destiny of your skirt. Biting onto the fabric of his glove, he then pulled at it and discarded the item away “It depends on who’s the intruder. — he cockily said, hand buried between your legs again, his fingers beginning to tease your opening — If it’s your brother, or your little loverboy, I might fuck you so hard the desk with crumble to pieces” he teased you, furrowing his brows as you impatiently bucked your hips up to invite him to take action.

Sosuke sneered, plunging his index into you, stretching you out slowly, gradually, testing the waters. Your warmth was to die for. The strained moan leaving your lips, body relaxing under his ministrations, only worked as gasoline on a wildfire. Your tightness, not that of a woman unable to relax, but this a young woman he had missed so much. He clenched his jaw, his other hand unhooking your bra and pushing you down, until your back was flattened on the polished wooden surface. Impatiently, you huffed, hands grasping the bra and tossing it away to join the pile of clothes on the floor. You needed more, you needed him.

“Sosuke” you called him out, careful not to add prayers to your already altered voice. Alas, he knew you more than you liked to admit.

“What is it? Do you need more than this? Is your desire to be ruined by me so strong to forget about the concept of decorum? — he mocked you, before shoving another finger into your fluttering hole, grunting at the way your walls clamped down onto them — I will be frank with you. Begging like a cat in heat suits you” he complimented you, his voice dripping sarcasm as he began to curl his fingers into you at a steady pace.

Your legs quivered, back arching, as a familiar pressure coiled on your lower abdomen. This much pleasure, this intense bliss, you only achieved it during a full penetration. No one had ever been able to push you close to your climax by the mere use of his fingers. Your pussy spasmed around his slender digits, the squelch of your arousal coating his fingers, as he scissored them into you, made him grit his teeth. He decided to be selfish, for once. Your nipples stood uptight, jiggling with the way he relentlessly fingered you. You could not reach your orgasm before he did.

That hole, the sight of your core was literally driving him nuts.

Slamming his fist onto the desk beside your head, he pulled out his fingers. His mouth opened, tongue meticulously lapping at his digits, coated with your juices. Hungry, he was hungry and he was so mad he was not in the condition to control his impulses. He hated you for having always been his obsession, instilling that annoying feeling in his heart that made him want to possess you, to paint you body down with his bitemarks, to claim you.

“Damn it” he hissed, pulling you out from you daze. What had just happened? Why did he stop? Was it your fault?

Mortified, you lifted yourself up with your elbows, eyes locking with his ones, but he did not waste any time in pushing your torso back down, hovering over you. You had to know, you needed to understand what was making him falter, when he had no qualms about anything or anyone in this World.

"What's wrong? Am I—" you inquired, breathless, chest raising and falling erratically while the palm of his hand was splayed over your midriff to keep you in place. His touch almost made your skin sizzle, boiling lava over the tender flesh.

"Shut up. — he rasped out, silencing you effortlessly, jaw clenching at the feeling of your skin underneath his fingers — I feel like I could rip you to shreds, if I let myself go".

"Sosuke, I'm fine. I'm not scared" you tried to reassure him, reaching your hand up to graze his cheekbone with your fingertips. But his free hand stopped you, clasping around your wrist tightly as he pinned you down with a glacial glare.

He was on the verge of losing himself. You had never seen him like that, so humanly fragile.

"You don't seem to understand that, if I fucked you the way I want to do it now, I would tear you apart" he hissed, a knot forming between his eyebrows, as the iron grip on your wrist intensified, making you wince softly.

And God, you found yourself wishing he was going to keep his promise in that very moment. His eye glinted in raw desire, your thighs spread wide in front of him showing your glistening intimacy. His cock twitched at the sight. The need to be inside of you was gnawing at him to the point he made up his mind quickly. He needed to have you, but he needed to feel like you wanted him, as if he was the solution to all of your problems. Your lips on his body, your hands around him and your pussy welcoming him inside.

"Ride me. Ride me now" he commanded through gritted teeth.

You gawked, watching how he took a few steps back to remove his clothes. The haori, the uniform, everything fell at his feet, except for his eye-patch. For some reason he had not even tried to remove it. Running your fingers through your hair, your eyes roamed down his body. His pectorals, the chieseled abs, and you were surprised to see that the purple stone once protruding from his stomach was now fully incoporated into him, no more scarring his perfect body. The infamous Hogyoku. There was something else, though, your eyes landed on. His twitching cock, straight as a ramrod, girthy enough to make you question if it would have fit into you.

Hopping down from the desk, your opened uniform fell from your shoulders, as he sat down on the bed, mirroring his pose from when he used to sit on his throne in Las Noches. You felt almost inexperienced in front of him and you probably were, considering the real age gap between you two. Your cheeks boiled, as you finally stood right between his spread legs and you inhaled sharply, as he gripped your hips tightly to help you to straddle him. Squeezing your arse, you felt his tip brush against your opening and you shyly wrapped your hand around his length to line it up to your aching core. Sosuke groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, teeth sinking onto the flesh as he held you tightly against him. It was in that very moment you realized what was wrong with him. He needed you.

“Sosuke…” you whispered, moaning softly, as his tongue ran flatly over your jugular, feeling your pulse as you began to lower yourself down onto his shaft.

He grunted, arms firmly wrapped around your waist, as you let him stretch you open inch by inch. Breathless, blissfully content, you whined, when you finally had him fully sheathed into you. He needed this, he needed you and he kissed you passionately not to allow a single word to escape your lips. Years of yearning, years of solitude and you were perpetually stuck in his head.

“Are you sure Hisagi fucked you properly? You are so… Shit!” he cut himself off, when you began to rotate your hips to find a pace. His ones did not waste any time in meeting yours, thrusting upwards as he heard you whimper from above him.

You had no strength to talk, all you did was riding him, while his hands, soon settled over your hipbones, guided you to a tempo he liked. Sensual, yet rough. Animalistic like the guttural moans he released in your ear. He was reaching spots into you no one had ever reached. The slight sting of pain the moment his tip brushed your cervix made you cry out, mouth hanging open as your nails scratched down his shoulderblades, his muscles flexing as a response.

“Sosuke…” you whispered, half-lidded eyes peering down at him, when your thighs began to tremble. You had no stamina to ride him anymore, you needed his help. Assistance that you tried to obtain by leaving sloppy kisses over his jawline, earning a growl from him.

Flipping you over, your back met the mattress, his hands making sure your thighs were hooked around his waist “Desperate, aren’t you?” he breathed out, sheathing himself back into you slowly, enjoying how you fit him like a glove, squeezing him up perfectly.

Too far gone to retaliate, you kissed him to silence him, moaning into his mouth when he began to thrust into you again. There was no room between you two anymore. His chest was pressed against yours, his movements soon faltering, getting sloppier, as he neared his climax. The moment you shuddered, his tip hitting your g-spot again, your vision got blurry and came with a loud moan he did not bother suffocating. It was enough.

Twitching into your sensitive core, Sosuke gritted his teeth and milked your insides, puffed up with pride of having stained you, Isshin’s daughter, the first born of his adventure in the world of the living. Maybe his thirst for ruining you, for leaving a part of him deep into you, found its root in his hate for Isshin. Indulging into such thoughts now was useless, as he watched you panting underneath him, heavy eyelids and writhing frame.

Sosuke pulled out of you, lying down next to you “What are you thinking about?” he asked, closing his eye and accomodating himself in a better position.

“Everything, but not him”.

He grinned to himself, reaching his hand out to switch the lights off “That’s what I thought” he said, as the darkness enveloped the room.

You sighed, body aching, as you ran your hand over your stomach absent-mindedly. What had you done? Copulating with the enemy, letting him shoot his load into you, and now even spending the night into his bed. For once, however, self-deprecating was not in your plans. You felt good, happy even. You had tomorrow to deal with your problems and tonight to forget your moral codes. Pulling the blankets over you two, Sosuke kept his distance, unfamaliar with the thought of someone else sleeping next to him.

The silence swallowing you two must have spoken volumes for you to say “If you want, I can leave…”.

But he did not mind, not when you felt his hand finding yours underneath the blankets “Stay”.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! I should apologize for the filth you have just read. Instead, I am already planning other devious, despicable things to happen between the reader and Sosuke. Ah, me and my unhealthy obsession. See you in the next chapter and thank you so much for your kudos and hits! Do not be afraid to leave a feedback, I love interacting with my readers! Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Until next,

X O X O

TAGS: @onyxino @pseudowho @seireiteihellbutterfly

[chibishortdeath]

Goodness, these doodles were all staggered in a way on the pages that made it really hard to take pictures of them and get everyone in there (>< ).

Explanations for all of it under here ⤵️ :3

I drew my Ratchet!!! My little guy!!! I’ve looked him up and he’s a little like “authentics” line one. He’s got really loose joints and his knees don’t bend hahahahsjdksjsjk, but yeahg. Tbh the big outer shells kind of design goes hard. Ratchet could benefit greatly from having shields on him, second doodle is a demonstration of those being used lol.

Hehehehehe he’s so fucking cute oh my god how did they make this one robot design to appeal to me specifically I’m gonna die— he’s sitting there so pleasant and polite :3.

This is an attempt at a Ratchet design that combines a bunch of other ones! I was trying to pick out stuff that I liked (big collar looking part, massive tiddie window with the ECG display, G1 as a base because G1 Ratchet is so aaaoiugauaugoihghgghhgh), but eh idk. I’m gonna go through a couple revisions of this design before I decide on one. Cause I did like uh start writing a fan continuity 💀💀💀. Like deadass I binged two seasons of G1 and was already so hooked and hyped that I started making OCs and plot lines and shit LMAO. The transformers hyperfixation got hands fr. Also, next to him is Starscream and a little very not finished Drift for size comparison :).

The largest Ratchet here was my first attempt at drawing him! I spent an unreasonably long amount of time trying to get his legs correct 💀💀💀. Directly next to him on the top is a little doodle that says “usagi ringo” and it’s comparing his forehead chevron to the style of cutting apples to look like rabbits of the same name hehe. And next to that is a bishoujo figure design because oh my god it would be so easy to make one of him and so peak— more on that later cause I’m proud of the design so it’s on here twice XD. Below those two: doodles of Starscream getting shot! 💀 There’s a lot of context behind these, but shortened version is Megatron got mad and shot him 💀💀💀. Any other explanation would be getting into continuity ideas I have not finished nor finalized yet lol.

Guys hear me out it would be so easy— he’s already got a boob window— and the red section of him looks like a bodysuit— it would be so so easy and so so peak please bishoujo line figure company— I would pay an unwise amount of money for silly anime girl pinup hahahajdkskkdksjskdkdahsj. Also smaller not skirt version as well if they wanted to go full “the red section looks like a bodysuit” lmao

Megatron!!! I tried to incorporate a lot of details that the original toy had like the chest decals and the gun elements :3c. The g1 toy is so funny holy shit dude, he’s so top heavy and has like teeny pencil legs it’s so dumb I want one 😭😭😭. Next to the ref image of him, there’s one doodle that’s like a shitpost of this stock photo of a guy drinking while watching TV, an unfinished doodle based on a pose ref from Pinterest, and an even smaller shitpost with him and Starscream and their shirts say “I’m high as fuck and have a gun in my backpack” and “cunt era” hahskdjkssj (X X).

Another Starscream practice and some other characters that require a lot of explanation— So, this big combiner guy that’s in this and the next photo is a combiner named Modulus and I found out about him in a very goofy way. A friend of mine saw a figure of a little known character (Medix) at Walgreens, didn’t get him, looked him up later, and went down a rabbit hole on the wiki, finding out this guy is part of Modulus, a combiner who… doesn’t exist??? 💀💀💀 Modulus only exists as a concept that was included in the instructions of one of his components and NOTHING ELSE HAHSJDKSHSJK. It is the most batshit insane thing, tiny wiki article and everything X,,,,,,D. But what’s really WEIRD about him is that— HE KINDA FUCKING FITS WITH AND TIES TOGETHER A BUNCH OF LOOSE IDEAS I HAD FOR CONTINUITY STUFF 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀?????????????? Idk it’s so scarily close it’s like as if I willed this guy into existence LMAOOO. Anyway, members of Modulus include: Scattershot, Medix, Ratchet, Starscream, and Rook. Two of these characters are like replacement members for other combiners that were basically created just so random games could function. One is the leader of another gestalt, BUT he’s also been in a TON of other ones. And then suddenly Ratchet and Starscream??? And in the original incarnation of the character, it was SG Starscream too????????? It’s not gonna be in my continuity (I have ideas—), but lol they just dropped the guy from another universe in there what 💀. Insane, deranged, maybe peak even. Why the hell did I end up latching onto the combiner that isn’t real help me (ToT ).

Above Modulus, there’s some doodles of Ratchet, Cliffjumper, Mirage, and Bumblebee, BUT these aren’t just those guys, oh no, it’s something worse hahahahahhasjsksk. My raised on undertale dumbass got plagued with the cursed idea of “huh, if Shattered Glass is like the Hasbro official swap au— F e l l A U” and uh… this exists now 💀. Fell AU (name pending) is basically just “the thing but edgier”, so in this universe the Autobots are still like The Good Guys™️, but they’re stuck in bad conditions. For that to happen, they’d have to not have access to renewable energy, meaning either humanity did not welcome them with open arms, there’s some kind of general crisis happening on Earth, or some mixture of both. So Fell (name pending) Ratchet is basically G1 Ratchet, but wayyy more stressed out cause they’re always short on things and barely scraping by. He’s visibly missing parts and damaged and he just does whatever quick temporary fix about it because his focus is on everyone else over himself; he lost an optic, a hand (that he’s replaced with his main tools), he’s got a crack in his screen, etc etc. Procedures are always messy and painful cause he’s just using what he has and the whole time he’s apologizing and trying his damndest to do the best he can— He’s a sweetie still, but man he could use a break (he will not get one alas). Cliffjumper is even more high strung and tempered than usual, he’s also got a nose ring and sharper horns for the edge lol. Mirage has his darker mask like coloring from the toy and typically is invisible far more often. They used to really fight a lot, but they’ve since gotten to a point where they’re the two each other trust the most. Cliffjumper does a lot of reckless shit and gets injured a lot (_ _ ). Then there’s Bumblebee. His colorscheme is still yellow and black, but they’re reversed. The reason for this is Edgy™️ but the in universe is that darker paints is just what they have. He’s also not the plucky rookie at all, he’s already gotten pretty jaded and hardened by everything, which makes Optimus really sad— he does get some rare moments of lighthearted antics because of Spike though. Idk it’s a funny AU concept and I might do more about it simply cause I think the Ratchet design goes hard lol XD.

[blissfulvixen]

Light Energy Characteristics

Becoming a woman with light energy, both in character and demeanor, involves cultivating positivity, kindness, and compassion. Here are some steps you can take to embody this energy:

1. Practice Gratitude: Cultivate a mindset of gratitude by focusing on the positive aspects of your life.

2. Radiate Positivity: Choose to see the good in people and situations and strive to spread positivity wherever you may go.

3. Be Kind and Compassionate: Practice empathy and understanding and lend a helping hand to those in need.

4. Live with Integrity: Be true to yourself and your values. Act with honesty, integrity, and authenticity in all aspects of your life.

5. Embrace Lightness and Joy: Seek out activities and experiences that bring you joy and uplift your spirit. Surround yourself with people who radiate positive energy and inspire you to be your best self.

6. Practice Self-Care: Take care of your physical, mental, and emotional well-being.

7. Forgive and Let Go: Practice forgiveness and let go of resentment and negative emotions.

8. Spread Love and Joy: Small acts of kindness and compassion can have a ripple effect and make a big difference in the lives of those around you.

9. Connect with the Universe: Recognize that we are all interconnected and part of something greater than ourselves.

Light Energy Aesthetic

Makeup

• Radiant Skin: Start with a luminous base by using a lightweight foundation or tinted moisturizer.

• Soft, Ethereal Eyes: Opt for soft, neutral eyeshadows. Apply a shimmery eyeshadow to the inner corners of your eyes.

• Glowing Cheeks: Sweep a soft, peachy blush onto the apples of your cheeks.

• Natural Lips: Keep your lips soft and natural with a sheer lip balm or gloss in a soft pink or nude shade (or clear).

• Glowing Highlight: Finish off your makeup look with a luminous highlighter applied to the high points of your face, such as the cheekbones, brow bones, and cupids bow.

Outfit

• Light, Airy Fabrics: Choose clothing made from light, airy fabrics like chiffon, silk, or cotton to create a soft and ethereal look.

• Soft, Feminine Silhouettes: Look for pieces with ruffles, lace, or delicate embellishments.

• Pastel Colors: Incorporate soft pastel colors like blush pink, baby blue, lavender, and mint green into your wardrobe.

• Accessorize with Sparkle: Add a touch of sparkle and shine to your outfits with dainty jewelry, embellished hair accessories, or metallic accents.

• Flowy Layers: Layering lightweight pieces like cardigans, dusters, or sheer kimono jackets.

• Comfortable Footwear: Opt for comfortable footwear like ballet flats, sandals, or espadrilles.

[popcultureoverdosed]

Reverse 1999- The Avant-Garde Rpg

R1999 is in many regards an Avant-Garde take on the gacha game genre. Everything from it's presentation to story telling is in stark contrast to its comptemporaries. Like many other fans, my first introduction to the game was the iconic trailer that came out prior to the global release. I was watching a random YouTube video when suddenly an ad pops up. I normally skip ads as soon as possible, but this one caught my attention immediately. All the R1999 trailers have a bombastic cinematic style that makes viewers feel like they're watching movie. Hearing Vertin talk cryptically about " the storm" while dramatic music played in the background made me curious just what exactly this game was about. Interlaced with all of that were images of a little girl in a tattered red dress sadistically shooting people and... a talking red apple? I knew right then that this game was something else.

When first playing the game, players slowly start to learn about an apocalyptic event refered to as the storm which erases entire eras of history. Those caught in the storm are wiped from existence. Humanity's only hope is the St Pavlov Foundation and their Arcanist agents. Opposing them is a group of Arcanist terrorists called Manus Vindictae who wish to use the Storm to serve their agenda. It takes a while for the story to build up steam.

The beginning of the story is hard to follow due to how vague and cryptically it's told.  A lot of terminology is used that players won't understand until later. Once the plot begins the thicken, players are presented with a surealist supernatural mystery conspiracy thriller unlike anything you've seen before. The story is intricately written and brings up a lot of historical and scientific concepts along the way. It's not the kind of story you can just speedrun through to get to the gameplay. Each chapter segment is fairly long and dense with information. It's honestly like playing a visual novel rather than an rpg. I'm not complaining though. I've been gripped by the lore since day one and I never know what these writers are cooking up next.

The best part of the game for me is the character roster. It's can't be exaggerated just how unique the characters are. What other game has living scarecrows, a mini UFO, a girl who hiccups balloons and a sapient piece of glass as playable characters? Its clear that just about anything can be an Arcanist in this world. I thought having inanimate objects be characters was weird at first, but I soon grew to love the idea. It was just too ludicrous not to enjoy. I also love how tastefully the female characters are drawn. Everyone either wears time period appropriate casual clothes or the most ornate pimped out dresses you've ever seen. The character designs are conservative yet stylish, creating incredibly rememberable units. These beautiful appearances are complimented by eccentric personalities. All Arcanists have their little quirks that make them endearing. They're strange people living in an even stranger world.

The true cherry on top on all of this is the stellar voice acting. The cast is composed of characters from all over the world and the voice cast reflects this. Most of the voice actors share the same nationality/ethnicity as their character which gives their performance an authentic edge. The large variety of accents makes the world feel alive with personality. In a market where usually only the most high profile gacha games bother with English dubs, it's refreshing to see the producers put so much passion into the voice overs.

In terms of art and presentation, R1999 knocks it out of the park once again. The insight 2 character portraits are immaculately drawn and bursting with details. The background art for the story section is also drawn with enough depth to get players immersed in the setting. The live 2d models help spice things up a bit instead of having to look at a still image the entire time.

Reverse 1999 isn't just some game to pass the time with. it's a clear labor of love for everyone who worked on it. It's always a pleasure to play a game where the devs are passionate about their creation.

[zarvasace]

Okay okay that shatterproof modern au is so much fun I'm gonna mark down what everyone does here because I didn't want to let the authors notes get too long and I couldn't include every detail in the fic itself—

Time and Malon run Lon Lon Ranch, which is mostly a cattle ranch with some horses. They're working on getting everything set up to do some fostering (for humans, to be clear) in the future. The ranch is a successful business and exports mostly milk products to local stores, though they also have an orchard and do apples and pumpkins in the fall! Lullaby is a local politician, think state-level congress.

Hyrule lives on the ranch while going to school to become a physician. He's not related to them, but he is related to Malon's cousin's friend or something like that. He isn't allowed to help with the dishes due to Incidents in the past. He likes taking walks around the ranch and talking to the cows while he studies. He spends a lot of time with Legend, whose family is actually sponsoring Hyrule in school. Dawn is in a lot of his classes, and Aurora is her sister in a business program. The three or four of them hang out at the university a lot.

Wild also lives on the ranch, not currently going to school. He works there, and also does a lot of volunteering at the local food bank. He's learned to cook a lot of authentic food from all around the world from rubbing shoulders with people there. He doesn't talk a lot about his past, but Time and Malon know that Wild's parents sucked and that he's pretty much no-contact with them. He's rebuilding his savings after draining it all (plus more) on medical bills for his heart condition. He's pretty happy where he is, and looks forward to the day when Time and Malon get a foster kid or two. Flora's a childhood friend, doing a second PhD of her own right now.

Twilight works at the ranch with the animals, and takes a shift at a vet office every so often. He helps Hyrule study, since he finished out his degree in veterinary science a while ago. He's torn between getting a more serious veterinary job, going into medical research, and staying at the ranch full-time. He's accidentally made some really good connections in Midna and Dusk, who are both in high society (though Midna doesn't always act like it!)

Four is Twilight's younger brother (Twi was adopted as a young kid, so he remembers Four being a baby), and the two of them rent out a wheelchair-accessible apartment. Their hometown is a few hours away, but they always find time to go for important holidays. Four works at a garage in town and ends up servicing a lot of heavy machinery. He wants to get into doing some more craftsman-type work, but is having a hard time finding a place to experiment with it. He's working on saving up for some art/sculpture classes at a university, but has been really distracted with his job recently. He met Dot and Shadow through a trauma survivor's group, and right now they all go out for lunch every so often.

Warriors actually has a hard time with jobs and such. His steadiest gig right now is helping out at a large local martial arts studio, where he helps to train and spar against the advanced students. He wouldn't mind helping out the kids, but the fact that most of them don't know sign language is a barrier. He's drifted around several office jobs, but he's really just not one to sit down and do one thing all day. He keeps advancing at the summer camp they all go to, however, and that takes up more and more of his time, so he's not really all that worried about getting a more "normal" job. Impa runs the martial arts studio and Artemis is one of the head instructors, and he's good friends with both of them.

Wind is Warriors's younger brother, and the two of them live in the same apartment building as Twilight and Four. He's doing the college thing, at the same location as Hyrule, but Wind prefers online classes. He's part of the swim team, though, and likes going out to the lake when he can. (Tetra is another member of the swim team!) Wind has changed his major like six times, and works part-time at a smoothie shop. He likes playing video games.

Legend has also done a ridiculous variety of things, but right now he works at a very fancy restaurant doing mixed drinks, and actually managed to find a competition for it that he won some awards for. In conversation, he'll often reference other jobs or roles he's had but nobody knows the whole list. (He's referenced delivery driving, movie sets, an engineering firm, an insurance broker, a high-end jewelry store, a cruise ship, and several other things.) He comes from a rather wealthy family but his parents passed and he doesn't have a lot of contact with extended family. He writes out money to a lot of people under the guise of various organizations his family technically owns, and that includes helping Hyrule through medical school. Fable is his sister and way more involved in high society stuff, but she forces him to come to some of it sometimes.

Sky lives with his girlfriend in an apartment in the city. He spends most of his time doing translation work for the government, things like driver's license forms and ballot instructions (he works well with several different written languages). He does interpreting too when he needs to, and has another small job on the side at a natural history museum leading sign language tours.

And all of them go to camp! Sky and Warriors are both assistant directors, Time drives the supply truck, Wind does the sailing and swimming instruction, Hyrule the first aid guy, and most of the rest of them are part-time or full-time counselors during the summer. It's fun. :)

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

A Chance - Part 4^

Hello friends, part 4 of the A Chance series is here! I hope you guys like the date! This is going to be the second to last part of the series. Thank you for reading 💖 I hope you guys like it! FIND THE REST OF THE SERIES HERE!

WARNINGS: Hostile work environment (gossip and rumors), mentions of sex, bullying. Ends really fluffy though!

WC: 7.6K

It was finally Friday and you were so eager to go out with Harry. You’d tried to relax with a shower and bath and it did help until you noticed that you already had a chip in your fresh pedicure. Then you started folding laundry and when you were just about to be done and putting your intimates away you decided to try on cute panties until you had chosen your lingerie for the night. You weren’t expecting to have sex but if things got close then you wanted to put in a bit more effort for him. You felt like a sex fiend for having these thoughts but it had been almost two years of you being the only person taking care of your sexual needs.

Finally, the time came for you to start getting ready. You were being careful as you applied some light makeup, you just did a slight smoky eye for the evening. You were slowing your breathing before getting on your eyeliner which was already extra challenging since you’d gotten your nails done as well. Nothing too long since you seldom got a set, but long enough that you were still getting used to them. You had thought a lot about what to wear and decided on one of your favorite dresses. It was a red and white, gingham print, spaghetti strapped dress. It was a square neckline so it didn’t really show cleavage, which you kind of loved. You paired that with your trusty sambas and your candy apple Baggu in the mini shoulder bag style. You had some small silver hoops in your ears and a silver horseshoe pendant around your neck for good luck. It was still hot out, so your hair was held up with the claw clip in a haphazard updo, a few strategic strands were pulled out to frame your face. And you topped it all off with a few spritzes of your favorite perfume and then waited in the kitchen until he was knocking at your door just a few minutes earlier than he said he’d arrive. You hurried to open it up and as soon as you saw each other, you were both beaming.

“Holy shit, you’re so pretty.” He said through an awestruck smile and you glanced away nervously at his compliment for a few moments. 

You then glanced back and took him in as well and smiled at his own outfit. He had a plain white tee tucked into some light gray slacks, a thin black belt fixed the two articles of clothing perfectly to his slender body. He had a light yellow, cashmere crewneck draped around his shoulders which added a level of sophistication to his ensemble. And to top it all off, a black cross-body bag spanning from his shoulder to the opposite hip. His feet were clad in his Authentic, black and white Vans, they looked quite worn, which gave his outfit the slight edge it needed.

“You look really freaking good too.” You said as the light from your apartment made his thin t-shirt appear even more translucent than it already was. You could see ink there, but you couldn’t quite make out what the tattoos were. You’d seen the ones on his arms from work, but more? You wondered if you had any more in places that weren’t visible to you yet.

“Ummm, thanks.” He smiled a bit bashfully.

“D-do you want water or need the bathroom or anything before we go?” You asked and he shook his head.

“Good to go. I ummm, actually did bring this for you though…” he said as he reached into his bag and opened it up before feeling around for the surprise item. He pulled out a little brown parchment bag and handed it over to you. You grinned at him before peering inside to see a little keychain with a black leather tag with your name embossed in silver and a couple star charms of different varieties hung from the keyring, the charms looked mismatch-y in an aesthetic way. 

“Oh, I love it!” You gasped happily as you looked at it more closely, “Thank you, I’ve been needing a new one.” You said.

“Yeah, I noticed that the one you have there is like, hanging on for dear life.” He explained of your current one. It was a sort wrist lanyard, your name was woven into it but you’d had the same one since you were a literal child. The two ends were currently being held together by a little safety pin.

“Yeah…” you chuckled, “My grandma got it for me on a vacation I spent with them. Got it at their city zoo. I had to have been 10 or 11…” you recalled, “I used to bike to school and my parents worked a lot so I would have to let myself into the house.” You explained, “So yeah, this one has been through a lot.” You chuckled.

“Well, I get if it has sentimental value and you want to keep using it. I have stuff like that too.” He assured you.

“Oh no, that’s alright. I can finally retire it to my memory box.” You said with a small smile, “Besides this one also has sentimental value.” You added and he smiled.

“It does.” He hummed.

“Can you help me switch it out? Don’t want to break my nail.” You said with slight embarrassment.

“Sure.” He chuckled and helped you do that.

“Thank you so much.” You hummed as he handed over your keys.

“Course.” He said softly, you guys just looked at each other for a few seconds.

“I want to kiss you so bad but I fear I won’t be able to stop if I do.” You confessed and he chuckled.

“The feeling is very mutual.” He admitted lowly with a rosy tint on his cheeks.

“Okay, lets go before I run out of will power!” You said and he chuckled but soon you were heading off. 

He had planned this with enough time in mind that you could just have a soda while you waited for your order to be ready. So far you had talked about your families and had just gotten into the topic of why previous relationships had failed when they called his name because your food was ready. You continued on this topic as you drove to the secondary location. You weren’t surprised to learn that Harry had significantly more relationships than you did and it didn’t really worry you. He did confess to being a serial dater in his mid twenties because he felt he was running out of time at that point, but that for the last three years he’d been in therapy regularly to help him overcome that need he had to fill his voids with romantic partners. 

“I’m so proud of you for that, Harry!” You encouraged him.

“Thank you, I am quite proud of myself too. I did realize how before I would just avoid all of my issues by latching to my partners. I’d lose myself in relationships and now like…I just want a partner to just enjoy the ride with, you know?” He asked and you sighed.

“I do but…I also don’t. I’m quite opposite of you.” You said with a small smile.

“A big shocker there…” he said sardonically before you both laughed it off.

“Yeah, see I avoid closeness with people because I figure that if you come into my life then…you have to leave at some point.” You explained and he nodded, “I know I need to go to therapy t-to work on my intimacy issues and all that, but it’s just the getting started bit that makes me nervous. Like I did have a therapist in high school but I didn’t really vibe with him. He was an older man, so I didn’t feel like I could really open up, you know?”

“Yeah, I can understand that. It took me a few tries before I found this doctor I’ve been with the last couple years. But yeah, when you find that person that you can really be authentic with, the therapeutic experiences changes a lot.” He explained.

“I can imagine. You’ve inspired me to start searching again.” You said and he chuckled.

“Good! I mean, it’s healthy to have that one impartial person, you know?”

“Definitely. And well, I don’t know if maybe I’m speaking a little too in the future, but I mean…I agreed to go out with you because so far you’re the safest I’ve felt with a person in a long, long time and like…I would hope that this can grow into something bigger and better down the line.” You said and he nodded and smiled before turning back to the road. 

You were so happy he couldn’t really look at you while you said this. You even felt a bit grossed out with yourself from how soft you felt around him, that was your past hurt peeking through, trying to close you back up again before you got hurt. But you did it anyway because you knew he would never hurt you. 

“Anyway ummm…sometimes I might…be a dick when I feel like you’re getting too close.” You explained and since you were now at a red light he glanced over to you, “I hope you can call me out on it when you recognize that’s what I’m doing. I know when I do it, it’s a defense mechanism.” You said and he nodded, “But I don’t want to be that way with you. I want to unlearn all of that and let you see the parts of me that haven’t seen the light of day in years!” You said with a sincere smile, “But it’s going to be hard for me, Harry. And I’m not going to make it easy for you either at times, so I apologize in advance.” You said and then looked into his eyes, “I just hope that you don’t-” you paused when you felt the weight of the meaning of what you were just about to ask him and your gaze flitted away nervously.

“That I don’t what?” He asked and you sighed. 

Being this vulnerable made you want to crawl under a rock and never come out. You knew the that people in the cars around you and walking on the side walks couldn’t hear your conversation, but it felt like they could. What a sweet relief it’d be for a 9 point magnitude earthquake to just hit all of a sudden so that the earth could swallow you whole and you wouldn’t have to admit your biggest fear to him. You hadn’t meant to get that deep but it just happened! Like things just tended to happen with him.

“Ummm…I hope that you don’t give up on me. Like when I…inevitably feel the need t-to keep myself safe the way I have all this time.” You explained and his gaze softened.

“Look Y/N, I have liked you for nearly two years.” He informed you and you smiled, “I’m not giving up. Not when we’re leaps and bounds from where we started and more than that, when we’re so close to being more.” He said and you wanted to cry.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He reassured you, “I want this to work so fucking badly.” 

“I do too.” You assured him.

“That’s all it takes, willingness from both of us to see this through.” He said tenderly. You both gasped in fright as the truck behind your car honked loudly as you were holding up the traffic now. “Jesus…” Harry grumbled before you took off again. Just a few minutes later you were driving past the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as you drove past it before turning on a side street.

“Are we watching a movie?” You asked, trying your hardest not to squeal with excitement.

“Yeah…” He chuckled and then you squealed. You guys were able to get a spot at this lot and were soon looking into Harry’s trunk with a pout of endearment. There was a very large picnic basket with a little bouquet of wild-flowers peaking out of one end and a picnic blanket rolled up and placed neatly between the baskets handles. There were also two large, jade green, corduroy floor cushions. “Gimme the food bag, please?” He requested and you handed it over before stepping back to give him space to fit your dinner in the basket.

“I got the blanket and cushions.” You said.

“Thanks, love.” He smiled before handing them over and moments later you were following the rest of the herds of people towards the cemetery. 

While you waited in line you talked about the film “Comet” since the main characters had met here in that film. You talked about BRAT and Charm, both excellent albums that you’d recently been listening to. You discussed sharing a little tub of kettle corn because it tastes better when it’s warm and you should never skip on that given the chance. And then that led to you turning towards him to ask your next question.

“So what’re we watching?” You asked.

“Midsommar.” He said, “I remember you saying you liked that one when we were talking at the bar that first time?” He recalled and you nodded.

“Yeah…so, you’re bringing me to watch a movie about a boyfriend being burned alive?” You chuckled.

“Oh…right…” he chuckled, “Hopefully not foreshadowing.” He mumbled playfully and you giggled.

“Yeah, that’d be a tragedy…” you hummed sarcastically and he chuckled and playfully knocked his elbow against yours.

“You know you’d miss me. You wouldn’t be able to go on without me.” He said dramatically, “Admit it.” He pressed with a smile and you giggled.

“Mmmm…I don’t know…we’re getting there though.” You assured him and he chuckled. 

“I’ll take that.” He hummed and you smiled. 

If there was one thing that you were so obsessed with Harry over it was this! The fact that he never pressured you into anything. He didn’t try and change your mind or feelings about things. He’d listen and be present with you and be encouraging, but he never imposed his opinions or feelings about things onto you. It made you realize that he liked you as a whole person. Not just your looks, not specific things like your intelligence or humor, but all of those things together, even the things that you felt weren’t so great. He was interested and determined in getting to know all of your facets. The time and care he took in gaining your trust and trying to understand you, well it was paying off. Others had tried before but they’d get frustrated and give up on you quickly. But not Harry, he knew that good things take time to cultivate and he was willing to work hard and wait and see the fruits of his efforts with you. He was mature and confident and handsome and smart and so fucking lovely that you just had to pinch yourself sometimes to ensure that he was a real person.

“What?” He asked with a smile on his face as you just continued looking at him. It broke you out of your thoughts and you glanced away bashfully and shrugged.

“Nothing just…thinking about how wonderful you are and I’m really lucky that you still gave me a chance.” You confessed and he smiled bashfully. His cheeks were going pink so he just chuckled nervously and looked away. “Now you know how it feels.” You teased and he laughed a bit more before glancing back into your eyes.

Soon enough you had found a place to sit and got comfy. Thankfully, you’d shown up early enough that you and Harry could eat and talk a little bit more about whatever you wanted until the sun started to set, indicating the film would be projected soon.

“So what more’s in the basket?” You asked as you finished packing away your empty takeout containers back in the bag.

“Some Prosecco,” he said as he glanced up with a grin when you oohed in excitement, “Reese’s pieces, best chocolate candy you have here.” He said.

“I beg to differ, but proceed…” you hummed and he sniggered.

“I also bought these nerd rope cluster things.” He informed with wide eyes, “ They’re like drugs.” He said pointedly and you laughed, “Fran gave me a bag yesterday,” he shared, “I ate two more that same night at home.” He chuckled and you giggled along.

“You did say you had a sweet tooth, huh?” You asked and he nodded and quickly glanced down at your lips before looking up at you again.

“I’d say so.” He hummed smugly as he watched your pupils dilate with excitement.

“You’re a tease.” You giggled and he smirked.

“What about you?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, but for like chocolate and pastries. Not really candy.” You shared.

“So I nailed it with the chocolate covered strawberries?”

“Absolutely.” You responded eagerly and he chuckled. “So I’ll get the kettle corn because you’ve covered everything else.” You said and he smiled.

“You don’t have to. I asked you out.” He said and you gave him a pointed look and he chuckled, “Alright, I’ll get the Prosecco opened.” He said and you nodded in satisfaction. 

Soon enough you were back at the blanket and Harry had the flutes set up all nice and neat for you two. “Ummm, apologies in advance for the lower back pain, I just realized I brought nothing for us to recline on.” He explained as you sat.

“Oh, that’s alright. We’ve both seen this film right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we can lay and chit chat.” You said, “Quietly, of course.” You added when the couple in front of you glanced back when you said that and Harry sniggered.

“We can play 20 questions.” He said and you nodded. “Wanna stay and dance a little after the film?” He asked and you grinned.

“Yeah? Amongst the dead and all?” You asked and he smiled.

“Yeah. You’re into the morbid things right?” He asked teasingly. You rolled your eyes and he chuckled. 

Soon enough, the movie had started and you two were laying down, heads on the floor cushions while you looked at each other and mouthed things at each other. You were trying to figure out what the other was saying, but turns out you were both awful lip readers. You kept rolling away to be able to laugh quietly because if you looked at him you would laugh out loud and interrupt the film for everyone.

“We should shut up.” You whispered and he nodded.

“Yeah, we’re being obnoxious.” He agreed quietly and then just stared at you until you were both smiling like fools. He leaned over and kissed your cheek gently, “Lets sit up, you can lean on me.” He said and you nodded. Moments later you were crawling carefully in between Harry’s legs before sitting down between them and scooting back carefully until you felt his warmth behind you. “Want me t’take your clip off?” He asked.

“Please.” You hummed and he unclasped it from your hair before you ran your hand through it and leaned back against him again.

“Thank you, it was stabbing me in the sternum.” He confessed and you giggled quietly. 

You glanced to the side and saw that he was supporting his weight and yours on his hands, they were firmly planted to the blanket beneath you so that you could recline and sit more comfortably. You wanted to hold his hand so badly, you’d done it a couple times already, but this was your first date, you wanted to show effort back. So you sat up straight instead and pulled his left hand into your lap so that he was kind of hugging around you. Your heart was pounding erratically as you made this move to be closer. He didn’t say anything, but you felt him relax against your back as you started to weave your fingers into the spaces between his own. Harry certainly didn’t mind it, he was hoping that you guys could share some more intimate moments on this date. He was dying to kiss you again. It took all of his physical and mental strength to not turn you around and do just that. When the credits started to roll people immediately started to stand to leave.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Harry but honestly…the film was not as good as I remember it.” you said lowly as several people around you were raving about it and he laughed.

“I agree but I just…I didn’t want to shit on a film you liked.” Harry said through a giggle as he hugged around your waist from behind. You laughed along and leaned back into him.

“Like without the element of surprise for all twisted shit that happens it’s rather boring.” You explained and he nodded.

“Literally, very boring.” He concurred, “Not very entertaining when you know the point.” He hummed and you giggled.

“You, however, very entertaining. I liked learning that you are an Aquarius and that you’re the eldest of three, like that tracks with how you act and all.” You said and he grinned, “And that you think Birkenstocks are ugly…” You giggled.

“Look, say what you want but I refuse to wear anything of the sort.” He chuckled.

“No, no…I’m not offended, if anything I feel….validated. I agree wholeheartedly. Not on my feet!” You assured and Harry squeezed you a bit tighter through his laughter.

After enough people had left, you and Harry started to gather your things and then moved them closer to the side as you chose a more desolate area to continue chatting in between singing along to “Shining Star” by Earth, Wind, & Fire as you casually grooved along with the other people who had stayed behind to talk or dance a bit. 

“Has this been alright?” Harry asked you quietly as he pulled your body closer to his when a slow song started to play.

“Definitely.” You smiled.

“Even though the movie was boring?” He asked through a snigger and you giggled.

“Who cares about the movie when the company is top tier?” You asked and he blushed and glanced down between your bodies bashfully until he felt the rosiness and heat start to fade from his face. 

“You look so beautiful.” He said only loud enough for you to hear, “Well, you’re always beautiful, but I’ve never seen you in a dress before.” He added.

“I enjoy wearing dresses, just not for work. S’always so cold in the building.” You explained.

“True. And I mean, based off of your usual work style I just…never thought this was the kind of look you’re into casually, you know? It was unexpected and it’s very flattering on you. I’m trying not to stare but like…I have to just check you out a bit to just remember that you’re real, you know?” He asked and it was your turn to feel the blood rushing up to your cheeks and making your face grow warm at his compliment.

“Jesus…” you mumbled meekly and he chuckled, “You know, it’s weird for me to feel….giddy.” you mumbled and he smirked.

“Do you…like the feeling?” He asked.

“Surprisingly yes.” You smiled as you responded and started to gently scratch at the hair at the nape of his neck. His eyes fluttered shut and he hummed.

“That feels nice.” He moaned in satisfaction, “I think this is my one weakness.” He hummed, “Just…FYI.” He smiled dopily. He literally felt his skin litter with goosebumps at the delicious feeling of your nails gently scratching at that sweet spot on his head.

“Oh really? Not those nerd cluster things?” You teased.

“That too.” He giggled and you smiled, “And probably your lips.” He added and you grinned, “How do you feel about kissing after the first date?” He asked.

“Not favorable.” You joked with a smirk and he sniggered.

“So I should kiss you before the end of the date then…” he said with a playful grin and an adorable side eye and you giggled, “Wouldn’t be after the date…right?”

“Very clever.” You hummed and he chuckled, “But I mean it’s not favorable because that would be waiting too long…I mean, at least in my opinion…” You said coyly and he giggled.

“Is that so?” He hummed teasingly.

“I’m afraid so.” You grinned and he leaned a bit lower as you tip-toed and angled your head to the right. His nose playfully nudged yours before he pecked the corner of your mouth quickly. You started to giggle as he moved down to your chin, “Please…” you whispered and he sighed and then ardently pressed his lips into yours. Your bodies stopped swaying to the music as you became entranced into your kiss. The song switched to “Island in the Sun” and you both broke the kiss to sing the opening line: “Hip, Hip…”

You both laughed before you started to dance again. You sang along passionately with the rest of the people around and Harry twirled you around as the song sped up and when it hit the bridge you both just held hands and spun around quickly until you started to get dizzy and crashed into each other as you guys continued to sing along as the song started to come to a close.

“We’ll never feel bad anymoooore.”

“No. No.” Harry echoed with glee as you started to dance a little less as the song came to an end.

Everything felt so easy with him. The way he was made your effort feel worthwhile. It made you feel like working on the prickly parts of your personality wasn’t going to be as dreadful or taxing as you always thought it would be. That was actually the very reason you had avoided doing all of that healing work for at least a decade now; you realized it was you who was the issue when it took a toll on your first relationship after you left for college. Sure, it was going to be hard and painful at times, but if at the end of the day you got to be with him and see how happy it made him that you were getting better, then it was going to be worth it. A part of you felt foreign and a little disgusted with yourself for being so far gone so quickly over someone, a man, no less! But when you reminded yourself that he tried for months and he was patient and he stayed, those feelings and insecurities evaporated into thin air as quickly as they were conjured. No one had done that for you before. 

You knew there were good people in the world, but dealing with someone who is avoidant of intimacy and genuine connection can bring out the worst of the most wonderful and loving people. Especially for someone with a background like Harry’s, who struggled with codependence, like he did in the past. Typically, those anxious types always felt like they could “fix” avoidant types. That they would be the person to break them out of their fear of intimacy by being extremely present and showering them with the affection they craved but seldom allowed themselves to receive. They always felt they could be the exception and show them how good it could be to have someone around all the time. But in really, about 90% of the time it felt like you were being suffocated and corralled with all that attention and effort. It was annoying more than it was endearing. And as an avoidant you just have to flee before you are smothered in another person’s neediness. It was sad when you thought about it, being so afraid to get hurt that your defense mechanism is to close yourself off and be alone so that nothing or no one could ever hurt you or disappoint you or leave you again. It was masochistic but better (preferred even) than being smothered by a person who thought they understood you and thought that they could break down your walls by caring so intensely. In reality, it made your walls stretch even higher. Kind of like Adam, who just wanted to jump in and "save you”, not understanding that acts like that made you feel powerless and pathetic.

Harry though, he got that you didn’t need anyone to fight your battles for you. He came on strong when you finally let him him but he did it in a way that made you feel like he needed you more than you needed him when you finally got some time to yourselves. In reality you probably needed him just as badly, but you just needed to feel and believe that, that wasn’t the case. That didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest whereas it made Adam feel overlooked and inferior. All of these thoughts came to a screeching halt when Harry gently grabbed your face and you blinked a couple times as you realized that he had asked you something.

“Sorry, what?” You asked lowly and he chuckled.

“Nothing, just asking if you were alright. You got really quiet and pensive for a few moments there.” He said.

“Yeah, I’m alright just…thinking I guess.” You shrugged.

“Anything you want to talk about?” He asked and you shook your head

“No, it’s alright.” You declined and he nodded, but you could see that he was looking a little worried upon hearing that. 

Your thoughts weren’t any of his business, you knew that logically. And you also knew that he would eventually get over your rejection at an opportunity to open up to him. But despite knowing these things and deciding to leave it be, you found yourself wanting to reassure him that it had nothing to do with him in a negative way. You were just coming to terms with a lot of things about yourself and the possibility of sharing your time and affection with someone for the first time in a long time. You had a soft spot for Harry and it was growing exponentially.

“Harry, I promise it’s nothing bad.” You reassured him as you reached for one of his hands and pulled it down beside your bodies again as you interlocked your fingers with his.

“Okay.” He smiled, looking more relieved.

“I’m really enjoying this date. It’s been fun and unique and so thoughtful on your part, Harry. Thank you.” you hummed with gratitude.

Harry smiled, “I’m glad you’re having a good time.” He said softly.

You genuinely were having a nice time. The effort was everything to you and you couldn’t wait to do something just as nice and thoughtful for him. 

After another half hour you were both on the way back to your house making plans for lunch on Monday. The car was coming to a slow stop right in front of your building and then he parked and turned on his hazards.

“Thank you again for taking me out.” You said as you turned towards him and he smiled.

“Thank you for accepting.” He responded.

“Of course. Ummm, I’m gonna kiss you again before leaving.”

“Okay.” He whispered as you leaned in and cut him off with your lips over his. 

The collar of of his t-shirt was gripped in your fist as you held him close. And his right hand was sliding up your thigh before gently squeezing the widest part of your hip. His grip was steadying you as you were leaned over the center console to reach him. He’d given you his cashmere pullover earlier in the night when you got cold while walking through the cemetery, but now you were starting to get hot as your kiss intensified and you didn’t want to give it up just yet.

Harry nipped at your bottom lip before giving it a few gentle sucks and pulling back. His nose nodes your playfully before he kissed around your mouth. The corners, your cupid’s bow, and chin. Your hand started to skim down his chest and when you reached his abs he sniggered.

“Hey, hey, hey…” He said softly, “Easy, love.” He hummed and you sighed but nodded.

“Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s not because I don’t want to. S’because I want to, so fucking badly, just don’t want to get carried away.” He explained.

“I get it, I get carried away quite easily too.” You admitted and he smiled.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” He asked and you grinned.

“Yeah. Wanna work out?”

“Perfect. Here?”

“If you’d like, yeah. Then we can get food or something.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow. I’ll text you when I head over.” He hummed and you nodded. Your lips met in a slow and deep kiss once more before you pulled away and hurried inside. 

You were on cloud 9 as you washed up before getting into bed. When he let you know he’d made it home safe you said good night. You felt a little bit embarrassed as you got his pullover back over your bare top half to sleep in but you just loved the smell of his cologne and wanted it to be enveloping you over night. You could return it to him when you met up with him  the following day.

**************

It was Monday morning and you were in a noticeably chipper mood! Like sun shining out of your ass chipper. You had spent a total of twelve hours with Harry over the weekend and had not gotten sick of him once. For the first time in a long while you felt really good and excited about something, about someone. And nothing could really ruin that for you. You had just gotten up to the editing and writing floor and you had a strange feeling that everyone was looking at you as you walked past them. Maybe you were just imagining it because you had never really walked around with a placid smile on your face before and it did feel a bit odd to be that outwardly happy. You were doing fine of ignoring up until the fifth person passed by your cubicle and peered in to see if you were in. Your good mood was slowly melting away and you wondered if maybe there was something on your face or there was a tear in your clothes that you somehow missed? Regardless of what it was, you stood from your seat and got up to slide your cubicle door closed, but just as you were about to do so, Destiny walked up looking quite nervous.

“Hi, Y/N.” She greeted you.

“Hi.” You responded with a polite smile.

“Do you have a sec?” She asked.

“Uh, sure…” you said warily as you let her into your little cubicle.

“Ummm…I just wanted to tell you in-person that I didn’t tell anyone about you and Harry.” She said and suddenly everything started to click. “I have no idea how everyone found out that you two are dating but they did.” She said with wide eyes.

“Oh…no wonder I felt very…visible today.” You said and she nodded.

“Yeah, it’s what everyone is talking about. I just needed you to know that it wasn’t me.”

“Well thank you for letting me know.” You said and she nodded. 

“And look, I know you don’t really care about what people say and think about you, but I know this is a new situation for you t-to be in. So just a reminder that it’s not worth your energy.” She reminded with a small and encouraging smile.

“Thank you, Destiny.” You said with gratitude and she nodded.

“Of course. See you around.” She said before hurrying out and sliding the door closed behind her. You peered over into Adam’s cubicle and saw he wasn’t in yet and decided to just settle back in and got your headphones in and got to work.

Now that you knew people were looking at you, you felt apprehensive and even more under a microscope than before. You soon discovered from Adam that apparently someone had seen you and Harry at the dumpling restaurant together on Friday night. Lunch with Harry had been fine since you’d decided to meet up somewhere, but even then, he didn’t bring anything up about what people were saying, so you decided to follow his lead and just ignore it too. You’d done that before and you could do it again. But as the day progressed you were finding it increasingly challenging to ignore everything you were hearing.

The most prominent rumor you kept hearing was that Harry had lost a bet and that’s why he had taken you out to dinner. Then, people were saying Harry was embarrassed of the rumors because he hadn’t even gone anywhere near you today. Logically, you knew this was a lie, he’d been out collecting interviews for a piece he was working on all morning and it was why you had met up for lunch off campus, but hearing the interpretation people had of this was troubling for you. Normally, this kind of thing wouldn’t even get to you, but it was starting to and not in the way you expected it to. You actually felt more bad for Harry in regard to these rumors. Soon you were starting to feel sad over the consequences he was reaping over this and kept coming to the same conclusion every time you gave it some thought: Harry deserved better. He did, he deserved so much better than this and it was eating away at you that this was your fault. 

You’d heard whispered comments and overheard conversations in cubicles as you went to fill up your water bottle through out the day, but your resolve broke when you found yourself in the bathroom stall and some of the women in there were talking about how smiley you were in the morning.

“Did you see how happy she looked this morning? A good fuck will do that for you!” 

“Maybe Harry’s taking one for the team and fucking the bitch out of her.”

“He’s collecting that good karma, you know? It couldn’t have be pleasant for him…she probably has teeth down there.”

Those were the kinds of things you’d heard and they were hurting your feelings, but mostly making you feel bad for Harry. He was very well-liked and respected and clearly him spending some time with you was already ruining his reputation. You had to hold in your sobs and wait until they left to leave the stall, but you couldn’t make it to the end of the day with all of this guilt and shame over what this date with Harry was doing to his reputation. So you made your way over to Harry’s cubicle because you couldn’t do this to him. It wasn’t fair. You made some awkward eye contact with a few people as you slid his door closed and then turned to him with a sigh.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked immediately when he saw your puffy eyes and you nodded as you came around to his side of the desk and sat on the empty surface to his left.

“Yeah, m’fine…kinda used to people talking about me.” You said sadly as you glanced down at your fingers tangling together in your lap.

Harry sighed and shook his head, “But not shit like they’ve been saying. It’s awful, love. And if you feel…hurt…that’s expected.” He said and you sighed before biting your lip and shrugging.

“It is what it is… but ummm, I actually wanted to come talk to you. Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine…” he assured you.

“Are you really?” You asked and he shrugged.

“I mean, I’m disappointed a bit but who wouldn’t be?”

“I just…hate that this is happening to you because of me and…” you swallowed thickly as the lump forming in your throat quite literally stopped you from saying what you needed to say, “I think that you deserve a lot better than this, Ha-”

“Don’t even go there.” Harry cut you off with a pout and you shook your head as your tears started to fall.

“You don’t deserve this, Harry! I feel awful that people are talking shit about you and treating you like crap because of me! It’s making me feel physically ill!” You admitted sadly. But this wasn’t fair to him. “I can’t be selfish about this, not when it’s causing so much trouble for you.” You said and he smiled.

“You’re worth it to me, baby.” He said as he reached for your hand and you looked into his eyes. “I’m very alright with my decision to date you.” He assured you.

“You don’t regret it?” You asked him.

“Of course not! Getting to know you makes me so happy. Some stupid rumors can’t ruin that for me.” He reassured you. “And there’s no way I’m letting all this shit get in the way of this. Of us.” He said and you bit your lip. 

“Are you sure?” You asked him meekly. He’d never seen you look so small and insecure. It made him angry and sad because that wasn’t you at all. 

“Fuck what everyone else says, I want to keep dating you. What do you want, baby?” He asked and you sighed as you looked into his eyes. He called you “baby”, it made you want to blush and laugh and cheer all at the same time.

“I want to keep dating you too! But-”

“But nothing.” He stopped you, “M’gonna kiss you now.” He said as he looked into your eyes and you smiled. He pushed himself up from his seat and grabbed your face gently before smiling and kissing you tenderly. Your lips molded together with ease for a few moments before he kissed your cheek and pressed his forehead into yours.

“What I was going to ask before you so rudely cut me off…” you whispered jokingly and he giggled, “What if it never stops? The shit talking and rumors?” You asked and he smiled with a mischievous look in his eyes. 

“I tried it your way, just ignoring it and all and you tried to dump me so we’re trying another approach.” He warned you and cleared his throat for a moment before pulling back from you slightly, hands still holding your hips firmly.

“H-harry-” you tried to stop him when you caught on to what he was about to do but his voice overtook your soft plea.

“Although it’s actually no one’s fucking business…” he started, and you buried your face in his chest as his voice projected loud and clear so that anyone within this side of the office could hear, “Yes, I’m dating Y/N! Happily might I add. I’ve actually been trying to get her to like me for two freaking years and I will not let anything ruin this chance for me! So the next person I hear talking crap or spreading rumors about me or my girl is getting reported to HR for creating a hostile work environment.” He concluded. 

“Harry…” you whined quietly. Your face was burning with all the blood that had rushed up to it at this very public declaration. 

“I know you don’t need me to stick up for you, but that was for us.” He clarified, “No one should be able to ruin this for us. Not when we’re both so pleased about it.” He reasoned and you exhaled and nodded.

“You’re right.” You decided after a few pensive seconds. Harry smiled and tucked your hair behind your ear, “Now, can I have one more kiss?” You asked.

“Absolutely.” He whispered.

Once again, Harry grabbed your face between his hands and leaned in. His lips slowly skimmed yours before you grew impatient and craned your neck just a bit further up until you were kissing slowly. The soft, wet smacks of your lips meeting over and over again were like a melody you never wanted to forget. You had no idea what it was about him that was so fucking disarming but you liked it even though it terrified you at the same time. You loved that he first tried things your way and recognized your ability to take care of yourself, but he was right, his little PSA wasn’t for you or for him, it was for what you two had. How easy would it have been for him to agree that it was all too big of a fuss to keep seeing you? He had just shown you right now that he intended to stay. And as uncomfortable as these public declarations normally made you, a part of you was pleased that he wasn’t embarrassed to make them if it meant proving to you that the rumors and gossip would not sway him from choosing you.

“Thank you.” You whispered and he pecked your lips once more. “I…hated that but it also felt really good.” You confessed and he sniggered.

“Oh I feel you…I hated having to justify anything about us to all these people but I need you to know that I’m not ashamed of you or put off by what other people think or say. Everything I’ve seen of you so far has been absolute perfection.” He said softly and you swore you melted into a puddle of mush then and there. “And I haven’t even seen you naked yet!” He added playfully and you laughed quietly as he did too.

“You’re worth it to me too.” You assured him and he smiled bashfully. “Should we get out of here a little early?” You asked him.

“Definitely.” He agreed easily. 

>> NEXT PART >>

coming soon!

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Why the Charming Siblings are my Favorite

Guys, I am so in love with the sibling relationship between Daring, Dexter, and Darling. Darling and Dex in particular are very very close to my heart because they remind me SO strongly of my brother J-Dog and myself.

But even outside that resemblance, the three of them mean the world to me and are my favorite part of Ever After High. I daresay it is the most interesting relationship in the series. More than Briar and Apple, more than Duchess and Lizzie, more than Raven and her mother.

Blasphemy I know, but it's the truth. Their story is heartwarming and full of love and also rife with tragedy and I think it's HIGH time I rambled about them in detail. And I do mean rambling. Even more than usual, this is just me getting stupidly emotional about fiction and is not terribly coherent.

The Tragedy of Daring

First off, we need to talk about how tragic it is that Daring isn't close with the twins. Like at all.

It's very clear that to them, Daring is the epitome of the institution. He is everything Dexter is supposed to be and everything Darling WANTS to be and neither of them will ever be allowed to live up to him because he is the firstborn, he is the golden boy, he is the *favorite child.* His very presence in a room, his very existence, puts ungodly amounts of pressure on Darling and Dexter to conform, to shut up and do what you're told, to be perfect, to be a Charming.

Because Daring, at least on the exterior, is the perfect Charming. He can effortlessly fight dragons and rescue princesses and joust and swordfight and climb and woo girls and generally be distilled Happily Ever After. And he enjoys doing it. He is allowed to do and is praised for activities he enjoys. And all those factors means he's the favorite. He is the standard to which everybody else is compared, especially Dexter who both cannot live up to it and who is literally not allowed to escape Daring's shadow. He has the perfect life that both his siblings want. He has the approval and love of their father and their mother in a way Darling and Dexter have never gotten, especially not when they're being authentically themselves.

Now this isn't good for Daring either. Being under that much pressure and having the resentment of everyone else for being so perfect obviously fucks a person up, and Daring is no exception. But it does create a noticeable schism between the kids: Daring, who does what he's told, and Darling and Dexter who do not.

It means that the twins cannot trust their older brother. In their minds, Daring IS the institution. Dexter cannot trust him to value his skills and interests, and Darling cannot trust him to keep her secrets. And while they clearly love him, they are stiff and awkward with him because of the gaping chasm between their lived experiences and the fact that they don't believe they can be their true selves around him.

And this is SO TRAGIC! Because they are WRONG! We can see that Daring *doesn't fucking care.* Yes, he is brainwashed. When a huge rebellious activity like Raven ripping out her page in the Storybook of Legends happens, he is plenty bitter towards her and thinks she's dangerous. Y'know what Daring doesn't give a shit about though? Whatever folks are doing before their story. He can date Lizzie! No harm no foul! He and Apple aren't an official couple and don't want to be! He's perfectly polite and normal to most of the people who start rebelling against their story, especially if it's something small or temporary.

And whenever Darling or Dexter shows some more of their real selves, he is fully on board! Darling swings out of a carriage off him like he's monkey bars and he just laughs and takes it in stride! Whenever Dexter accomplishes something cool, Daring is the first to sing his praises! He loves his siblings so much, just as they are! He doesn't even know the real them, but you know he would be whole-heartedly accepting of them if he did! But Darling and Dexter don't know that.

These three are the perfect examples of how favoritism in children destroys a household. Darling and Dexter, united against the expectations their parents had against them, formed an unbreakable bond and became a team while Daring became the opposition. Not exactly the thing they had to protect each other from (their parents), but certainly not an ally. When Darling and Dexter are at their closest, both in childhood and in high school, it's when they are united in their rebellion. And that's something that Daring never gets to properly engage in during the series. Which means, despite how important they are to him and how much affection he has for them, he is locked out of the most important parts of their personality.

Daring is at fault here some too. He is dense. He doesn't think to ask his siblings how they're feeling. He doesn't notice them chafing under the rules, he doesn't seek to protect them from their parents the way the protect each other, and he is very much a bystander while they suffer the abuse of society. But it hurts so much because he would absolutely be willing to overcome that and to grow and change as a person if he just knew he needed to. If they would just let him in.

THIS KIND OF TRAGEDY IS FUCKING PEAK YA'LL!!! Oh to be a Charming sibling! Oh to be Daring Charming! Oh to be the kind of person who would love them wholly and fully come hell or high water and for them to not know that and to not confide in you to the point that you don't even know who they are and that you don't even know what you're missing! It makes me SO saaaadddd ya'll, in the best way!

The Dark Side of Darling's Secrets:

Darling is an extremely private person as a SURVIVAL mechanism. She has been locked in a tower "for her own safety" before and she is still in the care of her jailers and knows they wouldn't hesitate to do it again. If her secret has even the smallest chance of getting to her parents, Darling's life is over. And not just in the teenage drama way, in the "I will be removed from all the people I care about, forbidden from doing everything that makes me happy and healthy, and forced to live like an insane asylum patient," way.

Darling is probably the most "under surveillance" sibling, and during A Semi-Charming Kind of Life, you can see that she is paranoid ALL the time. And rightfully so! Darling does not trust a singular soul with her secrets because it puts not her physical well-being but her mental well-being in serious danger. Even with Maid Marian, she gets discovered, she doesn't tell her, and she still withholds a lot of her opinions and personal life from Maid Marian. With a singular exception: Dexter.

Now, it should be noticed that this isn't exactly by choice. The reason Dexter is privy to all of Darling's childhood secrets is because he was present during all the inciting incidents and because he is necessary to facilitate her rebellion. Dexter has to suffer the constant scorn and disappointment of their parents, since he doesn't have the capability to measure up the way Daring and Darling do. But in exchange, he has a lot more freedom of movement than either of them, because he has so few positive expectations. He is canonically the one who smuggles Darling all her banned books, and I extend that to most of her other activities. I'm sure Dexter was covering for her whenever she snuck out and helping her clean up whenever she needed and loaning her whatever items she may have needed.

And in exchange, she absolutely made excuses for him and did her best to make him look good and slowed down time for him with her freaky hair flip powers whenever she needed. And they of course are always still one another's shoulders to cry on when the world becomes too much. But it's notable that Dexter is not privvy to Darling's activities by the time they get to Ever After High. As soon as she gets the opportunity to freeze him out, to keep all her secrets completely guarded and unknown to anyone but her, she takes it.

They are still a special team. They are still best friends. They still confide in each other and care about each other and "rescue" each other when they need it. But there's a major shift in their dynamic, as Dexter assumes Darling has embraced the royal life and Darling now has to keep secrets from her closest friend too. It's not good! It alienates them both! Dexter thinks he's alone in his rebellion and Darling can no longer be her true self *ever.* But this survival mechanism is so deeply ingrained in Darling that she can't bring herself to trust anybody, not even her twin.

And I think there's an aspect of jealousy here too. Darling doesn't quite think Dexter would get it. It's back to that freedom of movement thing I was talking about. Dexter was always ALLOWED to try all the things Darling wanted, and was praised for what he did accomplish, even if it was always with the undertone of "do better next time." And when he is rebellious, he suffers social disgrace, but he's still allowed to do it. He does not get locked in a tower and is not physically separated from his hobbies like his tech or his books. He is allowed to exist as he is, even if he is ostracized and put down for it. He is not forced to stop the way Darling is, because he can escape notice. Darling absolutely covets the low expectations people have for him, and I think that subconscious bitterness also contributed to her drifting away from him.

Even by the end of a Semi Charming Kind of Life, she's still not telling him everything. Not telling him about her plans for fixing the competition or why Sir Gallopad is so trustworthy (or even that he IS in fact Sir Gallopad). It's a character flaw, which is something a lot of people fail to realize. I feel like Darling tends to get seen as perfect, as someone who would be the best friend and the best girlfriend because she is so confident and capable and understanding. But people fail to ask themselves WHY Darling is so isolated.

Her inability to trust even her brother, who has proved himself beyond comprehension and who she KNOWS on an instinctual level would never betray her, is something that I think she needs to overcome. It would absolutely translate to all her other relationships. She just does not tell people things and, as we see with Dexter, that seriously hurts, even when she does it from a place of love and is trying to protect them.

Dexter's Inferiority and Compassion:

Dexter is one of those characters that amazes me in every way. Because he probably has the worst lot of the three Charming kids. He is constantly being told he isn't good enough, being compared to his brother and the rest of his family, being screwed over by the universe itself with stuff like his glasses and his cowlick, and in general just getting kicked when he's down. His interests and intelligence are seen as unimportant and a waste of time even though they save the day more frequently than traditional heroics.

At the same time, he actually IS extremely good at a lot of the stuff he's "supposed" to be good at and even enjoys it! He's competent in swordfighting and jousting and climbing and playing basketball, and uses his impressive brain to assist him in stuff like building catapults. But he never gets the recognition he's earned because the standard is Daring, who effortlessly outclasses him in every way. I think it's notable that when you put him up against literally any other prince, Dexter is the gold standard and outpaces them by a mile. But it's not about Dexter is it? Nobody cares about him when his brother is there.

And if all that weren't enough, his father's favoritism towards his brother also involves ACTIVELY keeping Dexter down! If Dexter ever DOES begin to surpass Daring, then he is forced to throw the competition. By threat of his father's authority, he is not allowed to meet the expectations that everybody puts on him.

Is all that fucked up or what?

All of this gives an extreme blow to Dexter's self-esteem. Of course it does. He's been told his whole life that he doesn't measure up, even when he obviously does, so he's resigned himself to never measuring up. He's got a massive amount of resentment towards his siblings, who aren't put in this insane catch 22 he is, and are actually allowed success. Even when he loves them and understands that it's not their fault---Darling doesn't even want it, and Daring isn't really aware of what's happening. He's understandably pretty morose about all this. Like all the time. Dexter's chapter in OUAT is honestly extremely depressing. And with Darling, he at least gets some moments to explode at her for fucking with his life (not so much for Daring, but that's because the writers are allergic to letting his relationship with his siblings develop).

But the amazing part is that Dexter DOES NOT let this keep him down! Yeah he's severely depressed and has major self-worth issues, but he still keeps going and keeps taking joy in what he can. He's got a massive crush on Raven Queen. He enjoys tussling with his brother and running the MirrorCast and playing video games. He's kind and fair towards just about everybody and uses his advantageous position in life to help people. Whether it's as simple as getting Darling a book she's not supposed to have or as big as supporting Raven and the other Rebels on legacy day when she rips out her page.

And this all becomes relevant when public sentiment starts to shift towards the rebels. Because now, Dexter becomes the example, the one to look up to. Daring is the gold standard for the royals, for what Happily Ever After is supposed to be, for what following a destiny is supposed to look like. He's the standard that the institution is holding them to. But Dexter is the poster child for how someone who's a royal can make the world a better place by helping the rebel cause. And I personally feel that Darling and Daring start looking to him as the story continues. He's got a *touch* for interacting with commoners that the platonic ideals of Charmings just don't have. For once, it's Dexter who's in the lead, and that warms my heart. He deserves to be recognized as the hero he is.

Overarching Thoughts and Themes:

To close out, I thought we'd look at some of the biggest overarching things I notice in their relationship.

When you look at all the siblings, I find it interesting that everything is a scale with them, usually in the form of the boys being on opposite ends and Darling falling somewhere in the middle. Daring is the most perfect, Darling is in the middle, Dexter is the least. The royal to rebel scale, the scale in their confidence, the favored by their parents scale---it's all the same. Darling is kind of the bridge between her two brothers, as she's lived in both their worlds.

The love is there, but the communication is not, and it's what makes their relationship tragic. They take immense pride in each other, are very protective of one another, and are willing to go above and beyond to keep each other safe. But because they don't talk, don't confide in each other the way they probably should, don't share their biggest secrets, and don't sort out their emotions, they frequently end out being unable to provide that help.

They are all prone to making assumptions about each other, and it exacerbates the problem. Dexter easily assumes Darling has given up her rebellious childhood ways. Darling and Daring forget that Dexter is a capable athlete too. Daring assumes both his siblings are fine and doesn't notice their suffering. They've been together their whole lives, so they sometimes forget that they've still had extremely different experiences and aren't always the person the others expect.

I think this all shows the clear ground for exploring what their relationship looks like in the future: Daring needs to learn to get his head out of his ass and actually learn who his siblings are, Darling needs to work on being less secretive and trusting her brothers, and Dexter needs to work on taking the lead for once and adapting to being the one his siblings look to. And all of them obviously have to fight the final boss of their parents being terrible.

So yeah, that's my pitch. I genuinely think the Charmings are some of the most interesting and best relationships in the whole franchise. Anytime they are interacting with each other, it absolutely steals the show because there's so much going on there. But it's also criminally underexplored in the fandom because it's not a ship, so I just wanted to say my piece and share why they matter so much to me. Hopefully my propaganda is successful in either getting someone to write fanfic focused on them or at least getting someone in the room talk to me about it.

Charming Sibling Superiority. Abby out.

[cowboygenesis]

7: bang goes something | din djarin x reader

part 7 of the "brown eyes" series: masterlist | buy me a coffee?

pairing: din djarin x reader chapter warnings: none. word count: 6.1k series summary: din settles on the distant planet of lazure prime while seeking a safe-haven for his son. unbeknownst to him, the choice leads him to unforeseen threats—and a deeper connection he never thought possible. notes: blessings to everyone who waited the three-or-so months for an update. i'm happy to say that i have finally planned out all three arcs of this story, meaning i (hopefully) won't get so writer's-blocked down the line. chapter's a bit shorter this time, but i hope you enjoy it nontheless. and happy easter if you celebrate!

The wind musses your face and twists your locks. When you breathe in, the soft, fragrant air settles in your lungs, filling you with a trickling warmth. Your front suddenly feels too warm, so you shift your body and rest on your belly. When you kick your feet in the air, the tall grass tickles your ankles.

“Comfortable?” you hear a modulated query from behind, making you roll your eyes with a wide, cherry-kissed smile.

You peek up through your lashes, the golden grass swaying lazily around you. Din stands a few steps away, his broad silhouette dark against the azure sky, one gloved hand resting on his hip while the other cradles a bundle of rosemaron. The thick branches taper at the top, resting against his pauldron.

“Very,” you hum, stretching your arms in front of you with a luxurious sigh. The warmth of the earth seeps into your skin, making you feel boneless and content with your dearth of work. “This was a great idea. My idea, actually.”

Din huffs, tilting his helmet just so. “Your idea was to cook Chou-Shou for dinner.”

“That’s still happening,” you shrug, lazily rubbing your calves together. “I’m just gathering my ener—”

“—Which requires work.” He interrupts firmly, nudging toward the bundle of herbs for emphasis. “So far, all you’ve done is nap and pet the kid.”

You grin, cheek smushed into the crook of your elbow as you gaze up at him with narrowed eyes. “It’s called making the most of this gorgeous weather, Mando . ”

“I’d rather eat.”

You snicker lightly, but when you glance up again, he’s still watching you with that impatient mein. The leisurely warmth in your chest flickers into something muted, face going lax as you admire the beskar statue above.

After your inexplicable cantina escapade and whatever came after, you’ve been staggering on the verge of folly. The Mandalorian stayed silent for days, and you couldn’t bring yourself to reach out. The strange moment of intimacy you shared felt like a divot in the fabric of reality or a blip in the system, and one you weren’t ready to quite peg as authentic.

Today, you woke up with a strange welling in your chest. As if your heart had known before your eyes did, Mando showed up at your door with a steady knock, the kid cradled in his hand, when you opened the door with bated breath.

Momentarily, you attributed the tingling of your skin that night to alcohol. But there you were, sober as a judge, prickling with that same warmth as the mercenary hovered over you with his tilted helmet.

“You know,” you muse, plucking at some dry patch of grass, “you don’t have to stand around like a warden. There’s plenty of space.”

He doesn’t respond right away, but after a beat, you hear a familiar clink of beskar shifting. Then, without much ceremony, he lowers himself onto the flattened grass beside you. The scent of leather and metal fills your nose, and you study his helmet briefly before craning your neck toward the sky.

The sun sits high in the wispy clouds, smiling down at you with her soft rays and pooling against the red apples of your cheeks.

For a moment, everything is quiet. Somewhere in the distance, Grogu coos happily, likely stuffing his tiny face with whatever berries he’s found while on his lonesome. The sun and breeze are kind to you.

You pluck a blade of grass and twirl it between your fingers, watching the green pigment spread over your thumb. “Nice, isn’t it?”

Din exhales a quiet static through the modulator. His knee knocks lightly against yours as he shifts to place the bundle away, but you can’t help but knock it back with a soft chuckle.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, and while you don’t hear a smile in his tone, you hope you’re watching the clouds roll by together. “Not bad.”

You celebrate your small victory with a grin, extending your arm into the sky. The bright light heats the skin of your palm, flickering through your digits. You feel his eyes on you, inspecting closely, and when you flit your gaze toward his helmet, he doesn’t recoil. You wonder if he’s comfortable under all that armor, basking in the sun, or cooking from the inside.

“You okay?” you question suddenly, tilting your head to face him haphazardly.

The slight cant of the helmet makes it clear he wasn’t expecting the question. A long, comfortable pause stretches between you, the grass sways gently around your bodies as the sun keeps shining overhead. His visor lingers on your face, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve said something wrong.

“I’m used to it.”

His voice is low and wavering on thoughtful, like no one had ever asked before, or ever cared to try.

You hum softly, turning your gaze back to the sky, fingers wiggling through the warm sunlight.

“That doesn’t answer the question,” you murmur, the corner of your lip curling with mischief as Din repositions. His body squares toward yours, the gleam of his broad chest flickering with a broken reflection of your curious features.

“Yeah.” He finally expresses with the briefest nod, shoulders dropping like the admission cost him a part of his decorum. “I’m hot.”

You blink, and your head tips toward him again, catching the faintest movement of his helmet as if he’s watching you from beneath the dark glass to gauge your reaction. It’s something he’s done since you’ve met, yet recently, the gazes began to linger.

Your lips twitch, and you bite back a sly grin. In a perfect, non-consequential world, you’d tell him to undress for the sake of relief, shred all that armor and sit with you in all your human glory. You remembered seeing glimpses of his skin that one time and wondering how he kept so sun-kissed, stashed away from fresh air so many hours per day. You imagined hotter evenings on the Crest, him and the baby sat close as the setting sun illuminated their faces.

“Figures.”

His gloved hand shifts at your side, moving slow and steady through the soft ground below. His fingertips press lightly into the flattened grass, toying with the longer blades. Seeing such an unemotional giant mindlessly fidget throws you into a strange, awe-inspired joy.

“You worried about me?” Din asks suddenly, facing you with his visor. The rays reflect against the brilliant metal, forcing you to squint with a half-smile.

Your throat tightens, but you nod, eyes pivoting toward the sky. “Maybe.”

His fist bunches into the soil, tensing and untensing before you can read him. You catch him turning away in your peripheral, his shoulders rising with the softest exhale.

“Don’t,” he murmurs through the modulator. “I can take it.”

You laugh without facing him, cheek smushed tightly against your kneecap. For a beat, you sit there in silence, reveling in the trickling heat as Grogu briefly croaks somewhere behind you. It’s times like this you think the crib to be a blessing, keeping the little one sheltered in cool shadow while your skin scorches.

You turn, dropping a hand onto the ground below. You face Din with tightened lips, urging his gaze to pivot toward you smoothly.

“What’s on your mind, then?” you question softly, fueled with swirling, earthly energy.

Din sits lax, watching you for a beat. You raise a teasing brow, quickly flipping back to your stomach and resting your chin in the stout muscle of your palm. A flock of bone-white birds passes over the horizon, squawking in tandem with your confused hum as the man shifts his hand.

Your smile slowly drops as he withdraws something brilliant from his palm, glittering in the soft rays of light streaming from above.

You study the familiar shape of his blaster, the sleek, elegant edges betraying its true nature—cold, merciless, violent . You’re more at ease here in the field, but that blunt, cascading fear still grips your throat and stomach, stalking you since your moment in Din’s armory.

Lips pressed together tightly, you glance up at him with knitted brows. “Must we?”

“You wanted this,” he replies smoothly, hand flexing around the barrel. He’s offering you his weapon, and it feels like thunder cutting through this beautiful, sunny day.

You sigh, sitting up on your flank and matching Din’s gaze. The blaster watches you from your peripheral, shooting shards of light into your eyes like a taunt. A part of you wants to prove it wrong, while the other recoils with the knowledge of what could happen.

Din’s right, you wanted this. You wanted to learn, to shoot, and above all, be brave and face the vicious ghost of your past. It bares its teeth at you now, standing over your shoulder like a looming shadow while you toy with your bottom lip.

Even in your fear-driven trance, you catch your companion shifting to one knee before effortlessly rising to his full height. Craning your neck to match his gaze, your eyes narrow in the piercing brightness.

He extends his free arm, tone patient and unwavering. “Come on.”

The wind stirs the tall grass around you, mussing your sweat-slick neck and urging you forward. Your hand hesitantly rises, and before you can gauge the distance, Din’s grip tightens around your palm. He pulls you up with gentle ease, his gloved hand holding you for a beat longer while you adjust your strained legs.

“Thanks,” you smile while he nods in acknowledgment.

You catch Din’s arm shifting at his side, and your eyes flicker towards the blaster again. The silver gleams softly as he extends it toward you, making you swallow thickly.

You raise your hand instinctively, and somehow the weapon feels smaller than you remember. It’s not this intimidating, monstrous thing you battled with last time, instead sitting in the mercenary’s hand with seemingly no weight to at all.

“There,” he nods, gently pushing the handle into your waiting palms before you can change your mind. The surface cools your heated digits, making them curl through the trigger guard despite the hammering of your heart.

You swallow again, eyes flickering to the familiar visor. Din watches you with characteristic patience, still and tranquil as you adjust to the weapon.

The soft, warm breeze picks up, tousling your skirts and making the tall grass cascade in brilliant waves across the field and rustling with a thousand different whispers. You think some of them are low and cruel, mocking you for the shaking of your limbs.

Din observes your body language, and you don’t doubt he’s got your fear all figured out. You realize his hand is still on yours, beskar-clad knuckles brushing your palm close around the padded handle. He holds them there for a beat like an emergency tether.

You inhale deeply to combat the bile rising to your throat, bleary-eyed as the Mandalorian finally withdraws his touch. Without it, you feel anchorless; the weight of the pistol flares your mind with a memory of its recoil and what came right after.

You shudder, but the exhale you breathe is determined. The storm that’s plagued your mind is not something you’re willing to succumb to today.

You tighten your lips and squeeze your palm around the handle. It feels large in your hand, so you slowly tilt the pistol around, feeling its weight and admiring the meticulous craftsmanship.

“Now,” Din acknowledges, watching you accustom nervously. “Finger off the trigger.”

You jolt with a spark of horror when you realize you’ve been tensing, hard . With a nervous smile, you quickly adjust your grip and sigh. “Sorry.”

He nods, taking a short step forward and placing his hands over yours again. You tighten your lips as he adjusts your grip with short, meticulous movements. “Hold it firm, but not too tight. You’ll have better control if your hand isn’t locked up.”

You try to control your grip and let the weight settle into your hands, but you’re in a losing battle with your frayed nerves. You’re suddenly feeling hot in your linen dress, the pistol sits so heavy in your hand and when you think back to—

Din shifts closer, his arm brushing against yours. “Breathe.”

You do as you’re told. With a long, deep exhale, you feel your lungs expand, fingers going lax against the metal. You focus on the coolness, letting it sink into your skin before nodding toward your coach.

He waits until your shoulders ease before looking toward the horizon. You follow the trajectory of his nod, catching a thin treeline beyond the shadow of a large boulder.

“See those trees over there?” he questions, urging you to squint your eyes. One of the trunks is visibly thicker, standing strong amidst a sea of willows.

“Mhm.”

He takes a pause, turning toward you smoothly. His helmet tilts ever so slightly, studying your expression. You wonder if you look as terrified as you feel.

“Think you can hit it?”

“ What? No! Or—maybe, I —” You snap your gaze to his visor incredulously, lips ajar with the trembling of your fingers. Even without seeing his face, you know he’s not toying with you. This is a legitimate request, and you’re being made the unfortunate target of it. “I don’t know.”

He tilts his helmet, but remains patient. His arms rest at his sides, rising and falling with the steadiness of his breath.

“I think you can.”

You want to argue, but the finality of his tone puts your adrenaline into overdrive. Your mind floods with unwanted memories and insecurities you never knew existed.

The Mandalorian entrusted his weapon to you, not ever knowing more than your favorite dish or how you liked your caf done. In reality, as far as he was aware, you could have just —you could have just made it all up. After all, all you were was a woman with a sob story, living your life like it owed you mercy. All the months spent under cruel rule, working for people who killed in cold blood, until you became a cog in their vicious —

The gun is suddenly weightless as your arms swing up, aiming toward the treeline with furrowed brows. As the trigger gives in under the pressure of your digits, the bullet cracks from the barrel with a zap and your own, pained cry.

The bright-red laser arrives at the treeline, burning into the thick wood. The dull sound echoes through the field, urging a flock of ducks out of the shrubbery.

You stagger back a half-step, the kick of the blaster sending a sting through your wrists. Your breath is uneven and shaky, but beneath it all, your stomach flips at the non-accurate burn spot lining a trunk you weren’t aiming for at all.

Before you can process your thrumming body, Din is already moving. His steps are measured as he closes the distance, hands rising before you can think to drop the blaster.

"You're pulling," he murmurs, voice a low hum beneath his helmet.

You blink up at him, heart still hammering as he reaches for you. He doesn’t hesitate, just presses closer. You exhale sharply as he steps behind you, the sudden heat of him seeping through the thin fabric of your summer dress.

His hands find your arms first, adjusting your elbows with careful touches. "Don’t fight the recoil. Let it move through you.”

Your breath hitches as he moves lower, snaking his arms around your waist. His gloved hand presses lightly against your belly, just above your navel. The cool leather sinks into the warmth of your skin, making your muscles jump with surprise and unlikely pleasure.

"Here," he instructs, voice impossibly close as he leans over your shoulder. "Breathe deep. Feel it here."

You obey on instinct, inhaling deeply through your nose. His hand rises with your breath, slow and controlled as it settles just below your ribs, where he presses. The breaths you’ve been taking feel pale and shallow in comparison to the gust that overtakes you now.

“Good.” His voice is softer now, a tightness lacing the edges as his fingers linger below bone. “Keep your weight forward.”

The other hand settles at your hip, fingers flexing slightly as he tilts you into the stance he wants. His grip is firm but not aloof, letting his hips collide with yours for a beat as your pelvis is pushed forward.

Your stomach clenches, but you do as he says, grounding yourself into the earth beneath your boots.

"Better," he mutters, his head tilting, and you can almost feel his gaze trailing over you. The visor lingers, but you can’t bring yourself to look back with the heat lining your cheeks at such an oddly compromising position.

Your throat runs dry, the hammering of your pulse reaching the apex of your thighs. You know it’s inappropriate—even perverted —but the sensation of his hard, armored front pressing into the softness of your back makes you want to mewl. If you moved just an inch, you think you could feel him pressing against your ass. Somehow, the fear scorching your gut only amplifies the craving.

You wet your lips, swallowing thickly as the thoughts briefly plague your focus. "I don’t think I can hit it.”

Din hums and his fingers tighten ever so slightly at your hip. You think it’s just your overreactive mind, but for a second, you swear his thumb traces the threaded hem of your skirt. “You can.”

Your eyelashes flutter, lip caught between your teeth as your hands tighten around the blaster. The doubt still lingers, but it no longer threatens to choke you.

Din’s breath is warm against the side of your neck when he speaks again, teetering on a whisper. “Try again.”

You breathe deeply again, letting the air leave your lungs in one smooth exhale as you strengthen your leg muscles. Another inhale, then exhale. You raise the pistol, balancing its weight with both palms. The metal is still heated from your last shot, scalding your skin when you lock eyes on your wooden target.

“Breathe,” Din commands again over your shoulder. His helmet hovers just over your clavicle, revealing the dark T of his visor in your peripheral.

You slow your breathing again, letting it settle in your belly that bursts with excited fireworks. Your shoulders tense against his, leaning against him slightly for support.

The man hums through the modulator, acknowledging your surrender.

“Ready?”

You’re flustered, aching, and bleary-eyed, yet the soft trickle of his words comes to you like a mantra.

You nod briskly, placing your hand over the slim trigger.

The Mandalorian breathes slowly through the modulator, splaying his hands over your stomach. You follow, feeling the pressure of his hands against your lower abdomen. Your breath catches.

“Fire.”

Click.

A bright light zaps through the warm air, sizzling the molecules around it. It smooths through the atmosphere at record speed, making your ears buzz with adrenaline.

Din tenses around your midsection. Energy ripples through the air. You both watch with held breath as it veers off, striking a tree, but far from the center. It scorches bark, too high and way to the right.

Din exhales sharply, the sound rasping out of his helmet. His hands stay steady. You purse your lips.

“Again,” he says, a little stiffer now as his grip loosens.

You adjust your stance. He doesn't reposition your hands this time, letting you veer through the thrum without the guidance you so desperately require.

“Breathe in,” he commands smoothly, and you inhale without a beat in between.

“Now.”

Click.

This time, the bolt doesn't even hit the tree. It zips somewhere behind it, disappearing into the underbrush with a pitiful spark that makes your throat hum with something between a groan and a sigh. The two of you stand there in silence as a flock of birds rises from the treeline, startled by your attempt.

You heave slowly, eyes wide and glittering with frustration. There’s a sudden, deafening silence between you and Din. You wonder if the modulator filters out the sound of his breath, because for a moment, you swear you can hear it hitch.

As the thrum of heartbeat reaches your ears, you wiggle against him with a soft hum. Din, on the other hand, stays put against you like a statue, firm grip persevering against the dip in your waist. You hear him mutter something under his breath, and when you stay silent, his tone grows audible.

“Maker,” he rasps, verging on a contemplative sigh as you move away from him.

“What?” you ask, turning halfway toward him. There’s a bite to your voice you didn’t expect, sharpened by the heat in your chest at failing something you inexplicably imagined to come to you naturally. Everyone and their kriffing mother owned a blaster in this galaxy, and it was somehow you born incapable of firing straight.

Din exhales, slow and tight. His hands fall from your waist at last, gloves brushing against your hips before leaving you cold.

“You flinch every time,” he says ungently, rubbing a gloved palm against the flat of his helmet. “Doesn’t matter if you breathe or aim right. You move before the shot’s even fired.”

“I’m trying, ” you snap, stepping back. A soft breeze ripples through the glade, cooling your neck. “Not everyone was raised with a blaster strapped to their back, you know.”

“I’m not asking for perfection,” he says, helm tilting with a spread of his arms. “You’re tensing up too early. You’re not listening.”

You blink at him, stunned. It's the first time you’ve heard him raise his voice, even by a margin, and it’s not cold, but it’s definitely annoyed, and momentarily, you forget yourself.

You stare down at the blaster on the ground, the surgical gleam of beskar contrasting so pitifully with the brilliant green. “I am listening.”

Din scoffs, yet you don’t catch the jerk of his shoulders. You think he’s not being humorous, but genuinely frustrated with your futile attempts, and at this point, you’re not sure which option would be the lesser evil.

“You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

Your mouth drops open. You don’t even know why it bothers you so much. Maybe because it’s the first time he’s looked at you like you’re more problem than a potential, or because you’ve never failed in front of him before.

And if it wasn’t such a pivotal moment in your life, you would have let it slide.

But something tender and knotted snaps in you, something that you’ve tried very hard to keep buried all this time.

This wasn’t just about the damn blaster. It was about memory: the way your fingers still twitch when you hear the sound of one discharging too close, or the phantom weight of a weapon you once had no choice but to carry close.

You feel heat rise up your neck, your jaw tightening as you clench your hands into fists at your sides.

“You think I’m not trying?” you ask, and your voice is low when it comes. “I don’t need you to act like I’m a burden just because I didn’t grow up learning how to shoot at every problem in my path.”

Din doesn’t answer immediately. His visor remains trained on you, inscrutable, and yet you feel the weight of his gaze like a judgment. Not cruel, but stern, and it’s enough to send you reeling.

“I’m not saying you’re a burden,” he replies eventually, “but you can’t afford to be reckless. Not with a weapon in your hands.”

It lands like a slap, not because he’s being unkind, but because he’s telling you the exact truth you’ve been fearing. And it feels, for a moment, like you’re a teenager again, being told what to do by someone who never really saw you.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m one of your foundlings,” you mutter, arms folding tight across your chest like a shield.

Din steps forward like a silent command, sizing you up with something completely unwelcome.

“Then don’t act like one.”

Your heart lurches. You hate that a part of you, deep and guarded, is tempted to explain why this is so hard for you, to tell him about the last time you held a blaster and what it meant. What it took. What it cost.

But you can’t, or at least, not yet. Maker knows it could cost you everything you’ve worked so hard to gain so far. Din’s trust and favor included.

So instead, you lash out with the only defense you know. Defiance.

“Yeah, well,” you scoff, your iron grip on the pistol loosening. Within seconds, you hear the dull thud of metal against soil as you size the man up with a furrowed brow. “Maybe if you were a better teacher—”

He turns toward you sharply. You feel it like a jolt of static, burning through you like a quiet warning. You’ve never had the nerve to talk back to him like this, and he knows it.

“Careful,” he rasps, voice low and treacherous as he steps closer to dwarf your anger-shaken figure.

And for the first time since you met him, you really feel the aura of undisputed authority dripping off his frame. The strength, the confidence, and the danger of a bounty hunter. A weapon. A man carved from silence and danger, with hands that could break you in half had he ever chosen to.

Your heart kicks up against your ribs, wild like a drumbeat in your chest as he sizes you up with that dark visor of his. Your breath drops to your stomach, loud and echoing. He takes a measured step forward.

Deep in your soul, you know he won’t hurt you. It’s more than trust or a hunch, you just inexpressably understand that he could never mean you any harm.

And yet you react like clockwork, rabbit-hearted and adrenaline-stricken when you inexplicably choose survival.

You turn on your heel and bolt down the glade, legs pumping before you can even register your decision. The wind cuts against your cheeks, breath catching harshly in your throat as tall grass whips your shins and tugs at your skirts. Behind you, you hear nothing at first, just the rush of blood to your ears and the whisper of your name inside your head.

But then, a quiet thumping emerges from behind. Footsteps that are quick, heavy, and inescapably gaining on you.

You laugh in partial panic, glancing over your shoulder to spot a bright gleam. It’s all you can register before your brain screams at you to keep going.

“Maker,” you gasp out, half-giddy and half-terrified as your legs carry you through the thickening fields. Your lungs burn, muscles already aching, but there’s no time to care when you hear the sound of armor crashing through the brush behind you like a storm.

You dart between low-hanging branches, twisting your body to avoid being caught by the brambles. The glade stretches ahead in golden light, sun dipping lower and setting fire to the field in hues of amber and rose. Your boots slip against loose dirt as you crest a low hill, nearly eating grass as you scramble down the other side, heart slamming against your ribs like a creature.

Behind you, the sound grows louder, and in a burst of manic chuckles, you realize this is more than a light-hearted chase. He’s hunting you.

“Shit,” you whisper through a breathless laugh, nearly tripping over your own feet as you burst into a clearing framed with tall, swaying reeds. You whip around trees, zigzagging like it’ll make a difference.

But the truth strikes you like a thunderclap. In a delirious, adrenaline-driven moment, you realize you want him to catch you.

The thought is primal, and ridiculous and exhilarating , sending heat straight to your chest and through your belly. It sparks something you don’t understand but don’t have time to unpack, because when you look back again—

He’s right there.

His silhouette crests the edge of the hill behind you like a shadow, a wall of beskar and black fabric moving far too fast for someone so heavily armored. You yelp, a real one this time, pushing your legs to move faster against the soft soil and grass below.

A sharp twist through a thicket, and you nearly stumble, but then his hand snaps around your wrist—or waist, you can’t be certain.

Your momentum yanks him forward, and both of you go down in a chaotic tangle of limbs and heat, crashing through the tall grass with a muffled grunt. The earth rises up to meet you, soft and sun-warmed, as you land flat on your back with the wind knocked from your lungs.

And then he’s above you, one hand braced beside your head, the other pinning your wrists gently but firmly to your chest.

Your heart thunders with something animalistic. Your pulse roars in your ears as he looms over you, helm tilted down like a predator who’s just caught its prey in a death trap. Though you know no death will come from this.

For a breathless moment, neither of you speaks.

Heavy breath filters through the vocoder, his legs straddling yours, knees braced on either side like he's caging you in. You blink up at him, eyes wide and mouth parted. Every nerve in your body sings his name.

The light filters through the canopy above him, catching on the curve of his helmet, the dull shine of metal against the dusky sky above. Your chest heaves against the pressure of his hold, and his fingers flex slightly at your pulse.

You don’t say anything, don’t flinch, or squirm, or push him off. You look at him, eyes soft and skin dewy from the chase, acting like he wasn’t anything more than a man below that hunk of metal. It’s what you believed.

Then he shifts just slightly, his hand dropping from your wrist to your waist. His fingers settle there, just above the hem of your skirt, letting the warmth of leather seep into you slowly as you let your liberated arms fall to either side of your head.

He’s panting. You can hear it through the vocoder, shallow but shaken, making his chest rise with every strained breath. And while you’re breathing that much harder, it almost strikes pride into you, making a Mandalorian sweat.

Slowly, a smirk tugs at your lips.

“You always breathe this hard after a light jog?” you murmur, voice airy and faux-sweet as you gather the breath in your lungs.

You feel him tense, the modulator clicking as he exhales something clipped. He shifts slightly, yet the weight of his body over yours impresses you, almost, carrying such a heavy weight just to straddle you for a second longer.

“You’re the one who ran,” he mutters, his voice verging on surprise like he’d just hunted down a rare species. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I didn’t think you were that fast,” you shoot back, breath still uneven beneath him. “Should’ve known.”

You make a show of fluttering your lashes, which earns you a pointed shift in his weight, just enough to make you feel the strength in his frame but never enough to hurt or intimidate.

His hand eases off your wrists, but he doesn’t move to get up. You feel his visor shift briefly, eyeing you from head to toe. You bet you’re messy, hair tangled like a nest and clothes so disheveled it’d feel uncouth in front of anybody else, but somehow you doubt he’d ever mind.

“Why aren’t you scared of me?” he asks finally, voice taut and sharp like you managed to genuinely stump him with your antics. Your supposed bravery.

You blink at him slowly, licking a slow line over your lips as you watch the leaves above him rustle with an oncoming wind.

You didn’t have a clear, palpable answer for him. A part of you thought your comfort around the bounty hunter could have been a simple lapse of judgment, or otherwise a very poor act of desperation on your part. Or you just knew he was good, and it didn’t have to be any harder than that.

And you’ve known danger before. You’ve known what it feels like to be in a room with someone capable of hurting, or even killing. You knew Din had killed before, but it felt different. There was not a crumb of malevolance in his energy.

“You don’t touch me like you mean me harm.”

His fingers twitch, and you feel them brush against the soft skin just beneath your ribs. It’s only now that you realize that your linen top has hiked up your belly, revealing a line of sweat-slick skin.

Something shifts behind the helmet. You can’t see his face, but somehow you know his expression has changed, like your words have hit something fleshy and tender inside of him without trying too hard. And oh, how desperately you wish you could see his eyes right now, narrowing or widening or something in between, looking at you with something you didn’t have a name for yet.

“You’re a strange girl,” he says, almost like a sigh. A tired, fond thing that settles between your lungs like a little prayer you’d recite in bed for weeks from now.

You grin, flashing a row of teeth like the vulnerability doesn’t scare you. For a moment, you think that’s what fear might be to you, anyway.

“But you always follow.”

His hand lingers against your flank for a second that stretches into forever, teasing the skin softly and playfully. His movements are deliberate, but he still stutters.

Finally, he shifts back, rising to his feet with a quiet grunt, and he offers you his hand like he didn’t just chase you down like a wolf and cage you to the dirt. You take it, and he pulls you up in one firm motion, the heat of his glove lingering even after he lets go. Quickly, too quickly.

You’re brushing grass off your skirt when you feel a sudden, unexpected tug at your hair, not painful, but enough to tousle and startle. Like a dog or wolf, nipping your flank for attention. You gasp and spin around with a yelp, clutching the ends of your hair like he’s just committed war.

He’s already walking away, silhouette burnished in gold, the last of the sunlight glinting off the beskar plating of his shoulders. Calm as a man who didn’t just commit an act of softness against you.

“Hey!” you call, more amused than mad.

“Dinner’s waiting,” he says over his shoulder, and you don’t hear a smile in his voice, but it can’t stop you from imagining it.

“You are insufferable, ” you mutter, trailing after him with a smile so wide you think you could swallow up the whole world with it. You chase after him, brushing the hair from your face where it’s been playfully mussed. And when you catch up, you walk close, close enough that your shoulder brushes his arm, and neither of you moves away out of something other than fear.

The glade behind you hums with the memory of the chase and its tautness, but here, between you, the air is easy. You walk together like you’ve always walked together, like this was always going to be the end of that run: a breathless finish and an unspoken truce. It’s all you could ask for now.

The fields are quiet now, save for the soft rustle of leaves and the shake of grass that sways in your wake. His footsteps are heavy beside yours, and yours are just a touch lighter, keeping pace with the gentle giant like you’re his keeper. You giggle quietly at the image and let it linger in the air between you without so much as an explanation.

“You hungry?” you ask after a moment. It comes out softer than you meant it to, but you think that it was meant to be spoken that way.

“Starving.”

You glance up at him with a sympathetic smile, watching his visor meet you. “Me too.”

He doesn’t reply, but after a few steps, his hand brushes yours. Not to grab or hold, Maker forbid, just a peaceful, delicate graze of the knuckles. Checking to see if you’re still there, with him.

You don’t pull away. Your fingers tease his for just a second, feeling the rough seams of leather and imagining the real skin beneath.

And when the flicker of sunset catches the edge of his helmet, you think you see his head tilt, just slightly, like he’s looking at you again.

And this time, inexplicably, you feel his smile.

[hannahhook7744]

The Invisible Truth' Au Characters (Part 4);

Antonio's kids (Part 2):

Dayana Noemí Espinosa Madrigal (8 years old by d3. Student at the Encanto’s only public school and she helps José run the casino out of his room along with Avila—she has a few ideas on what she'd like to do when she grows up, including: a private inspector, a theme park performer or owner, archeology, and a historian are just a few of them. Clever, graceful, detail-oriented, fair, hardworking, cautious, business minded, firm, secretive, sneaky, reserved, curious/inquisitive, analytical, passionate, patient, helpful, aspiring, osscasionally very blunt, and caring. She has the gift of ‘monster sight’ meaning that she can see monsters that no one else can. She is single and is friends with her brother, her cousins, their partners, and Blue Veronica).

Next Gen Love Interests;

Araceli Peña Merlo (28 years old by d3. English Teacher at the Encanto's only public school and granddaughter of one of the Encanto's Original founders. Kind with a mighty backbone, empathic, graceful, knowledgeable, inquisitive, helpful, respectful, professional, motivating, courageous, idealistic, supportive, creative, non-judgmental, inspiring, dedicated, passionate, and headstrong. She doesn’t have any powers or a gift. She's currently dating Cesare Madrigal Botero and she's friends with her fellow teachers, Carina Potts, Shepherd Scaremonger, Eliza Fae, Jim ‘JJ’ Brown Jr, Hunter de Vil, and Horace the Auradon Prep Librarian). 

Simon Cantor Acosta Cova (24 years old by d3. He's the owner of ‘Simon’s Western Experience’—a shop that sells things relating to cowboys and horses—and He's the grandson of Heidi from the “Nightmares and Sueños” book. Intelligent, flirty, mischievous, upbeat, resourceful, eccentric, brave, sneaky, impulsive, selfless, easygoing, and occasionally inconsiderate and jerkish. He doesn't have any powers or a gift. He's dating Cornel Madrigal Botero and he's friends with Horace the Auradon Prep Librarian, Jane Darling, Carina Potts, Princess Melody, Amore Pugliese, Shepherd Scaremonger, and Araceli Peña Merlo). 

Amore Pugliese (27 years old by d3. Nonbinary Sea Monster from Genoa, Italy, and the owner of ‘Amore’s Fabric Stop and Shop’. Adventurous, mischievous, bubbly, rebellious, artistic/creative, adaptable, free spirited, energetic, snarky, loud, bombastic, determined, sarcastic, supportive, comfortable and confident in themselves and who they are, open, open-minded, playful, attentive, and unapologetically authentic. They have the powers of human transformation and Aquatic Breathing. They are engaged to Cyriacus Madrigal Botero and are friends with Ivy de Vil, Eliza Fae, JJ Brown, most of the Guzmáns and Madrigals, Araceli Peña Merlo, and Simon Cantor Acosta Cova). 

Madeline ‘Mad Maddy’ Meraxes Mim (21 years old by d3. Member of Harriet Hook’s crew—The Queen’s Fury—and bassist of The Bad Apples, one of the first former students of 'Madam Mim's School of Magic’, and worker at Madam Mim’s Wicked Witchcraft Emporium. If she had the chance, she’d like to be an astronomer. Granddaughter of Madam Mim. Deceitful towards those she doesn’t like, temperamental, vengeful, bitter, impulsive, driven, witty, sneaky, talented, ambitious, snarky, cynical, troubled, unforgiving, protective, loyal, moody/apathetic, snippy, risk taking, and guarded. She has magic and is fantastic at potion brewing. Crushing on Rick Madrigal Botero and friends with the Madrigals, their partners, some of her siblings, some of her cousins, Lefou Deux’s family,  Homicide Le Fay, Blaise Le Fay, Kai Athanasiou, Ula Athanasiou, Uziel Athanasiou, Arabella Athanasiou, and Harriet Hook's crew). 

LeFou Deux ‘Lee’ Beaumont-LePrince (19 years old by d3. Member of Harriet Hook's crew, The Isle Santa, and worker at Cipriano Guzmán’s Toy Shop. Former worker at Hook's Inlet and Shack, Hook’s Clock & Curiosity Shop, Gaston's Pub, and Gaston’s duels without rules. He’s happy with the job he has. Son of Stanley, LeFou, and Paulette. Shy, sweet, helpful, skittish, quiet, clumsy, poetic, stubborn, hardworking, sneaky, patient, intelligent, friendly, awkward, protective, mischievous, and giving. He doesn't have any powers but he is quite good at inventing and fixing things. He is friends with the Madrigals, their partners, his siblings, his cousins, Homicide Le Fay, Blaise Le Fay, Kai Athanasiou, Ula Athanasiou, Uziel Athanasiou, Cipriano Guzmán, and Harriet Hook's crew). 

Vidal Alfaro Pezmuerto (17 years old by d3. Student at Auradon Prep and Member of the R.O.A.R/Swords and Shields Team as well as the Fútbal —he wants to either be a marine biologist or be a pro R.O.A.R player. Son of Señora Pezmuerto and Luca Alfaro. Quiet but usually extroverted, easily embarrassed, athletic, skeptical, cautious towards things that could lead to embarrassment, judgemental, respectful of others boundaries, stubborn, hardworking, playful, sneaky, Unafraid of danger, Impulsive, and proud. He doesn't have any powers. He is friends with Harlan Alan Never, Portabella Neverwing, Felicidad Ruíz, ichabod ‘Icey’ White, Princess Natasha, Demurra Foxworth, Rolando Ortiz, and Rebecca of Rosas). 

Lin 'Gizmo' Mazorra (19 years old by d3. Worker at Miracle Tech, the Encanto’s first and possibly only tech shop—he wants to be either a musician or a Cinematographer that specializes in music videos. Formerly Homeschooled and the son of Dary Mazorra, the owner and founder of Miracle Tech. Introverted, awkward, quiet, insecure, creative, imaginative, goal oriented, focused, intelligent regarding tech related things, musically attuned, hardworking, helpful, passionate, loyal, sensitive, and soft spoken. He doesn't have a gift or any powers. He has Tourette's syndrome. He is dating Elmira Guzmán Madrigal and is friends with the Madrigals, Théotime Cogsworth, Bobby Hood, Tiger Peony, William Darling, and Portabella Neverwing). 

Portabella Neverwing (15 years old by d3. Transfer student from Neverland Academy to Auradon Prep who wants to be an activist when she grows up. Daughter of Egidius and Bluebell. Creative, stubborn, extroverted, loud, goal oriented, empathic, hardworking, helpful, passionate, loyal, protective, rebellious, sour then sweet, free spirited, and seemingly care-free until angered by something that is unjust. She can fly and she is a garden talent fairy with powers that tie into nature. She is dating Emilia Nattura Madrigal and she is friends with Tiger Peony Rossi, Anxelin Fitzherbert, Bobby Hood, William Darling, Théotime Cogsworth, and Lin 'Gizmo' Mazorra— she very notably does not like Unity and Hap Bergmann, Annabelle Scorfano, or the Bluefairy-Carmelo twins, and has a frenemy relationship with Stella Rabbit who is on thin ice with her). 

Cailee Beckett (16 years old by d3. Student at Dragon Hall, Member of the Sea Ponies and Anti-Heroes Club, and occasional worker at Lady Tremaine’s Curl Up & Dye—she wants to be a firefighter, artist, or a famous Auratuber when she grows up. Preferably one that works with Gigi. She is the daughter of Cutler Beckett and an unknown woman. Funny, extroverted, loud, loyal, empathic, playful, creative, patient, graceful, courageous, sweet, care free, non-conforming, and mostly well-behaved. She doesn't have any powers or gifts. She is dating Magnolia ‘Gigi’ Marguerite Gothel and she is friends with Murky Maggie, Amara Tremaine, Julieanna 'Julie' Foulfellow, Sabina Stromboli, Dizzy Tremaine, Owena, Elizabeth 'Lizard' West, Sad Sally Mim, and she's slowly becoming friends with the Madrigals as well). 

Théotime ‘Time’ Cogsworth (16 years old by d3. Student at Auradon Prep and Member of the Film Club and the Robotics Club—he wants to be a film director when he grows up. He is the son of Cogsworth. Rebellious, intellectual, reserved, bit of a loner but can be social around people he likes, free spirited, non-conforming, kind, open minded, curious, peaceful, a wee bit resentful, well organized, passionate, dependable, loyal, and dedicated. He doesn't have any gifts or powers. He is deaf/hard-of-hearing, has heterochromia, and has a lip piercing, multiple ear piercings, and a nose ring as well as glasses. He is dating Oscar Guzmán Madrigal and is friends with the Madrigals, most of the film and robotics club members—including Doug Bergmann, Anxelin Fitzherbert, Portabella Neverwing, Prince Diego of Cordoba, Elle Athanasiou of Tirulia, Princess Avisa Athanasiou of Atlantica, Arabella Athanasiou of Tirulia, Zhu Yi-Min, and Jedoun 'Jordan' Ayad).  

Prince Diego of Cordoba (15—almost 16—years old by d3. Student at Auradon Prep, School Contraband Smuggler and Seller, and Member of the Art Club—he wants to be a graphic novelist that specializes in horror and detective stories. He is the son of Prince Alonso of Cordoba. Reserved, sweet, friendly, even tempered, insecure, curious, creative, protective, sullen, imaginative, giving, cautious, hardworking when motivated, optimistic, loyal, patient, strong, well behaved but a rule breaker, odd/strange/creepy, and wouldn't hurt a fly unless provoked. He doesn't have any gifts or powers. He is in tutoring and extra help classes due to his struggles in a usual class environment. He is seen as a dimwitted slacker by many because of this. He is dating Sofia Madrigal Prepon and he is friends with Théotime ‘Time’ Cogsworth, Lin 'Gizmo' Mazorra, Portabella Neverwing, Anxelin Fitzherbert, Arabella Athanasiou of Tirulia, Crabby Bergmann, Doug Bergmann, Sleepy Bergmann Jr, and Baren Hood). 

Haruto of Avalor (19 years old by d3. Model for Evie's 4 Hearts and Cheerleader and Student at Sherwood University—he wants to be an actor. Son of Tomiko of Avalor. Confident, hard working, romantic, focused, hard working, proud, spirited, adaptable, determined, athletic, patient, gossipy, fashionable, dedicated, judgemental, loyal, smart alec, protective to his people, great team player, and a multi-talented overachiever. He doesn't have any gifts or powers. He is dating Princesa Guzmán Madrigal and is friends with the rest of the cheerleading team, the tourney team, some of the band kids, some of the choir kids, some of the art club kids, the R.O.A.R kids, Princess Avisa Athanasiou of Atlantica, Chao, Kelemon Ceinfarfog Of Northumberland, Blair of DunBroch, Nora Nattura, Hilda Bjorgman, and Catharina ‘Cato’ Bones. Doesn't know the Madrigals that well yet). 

Ronaldo Ortiz (16 years old by d3. Student at Auradon Prep and Member of the Debate Team and Tutoring Club—doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life yet. Does know he doesn't want to work in his father's field. Son of Osvaldo Ortiz. Hard working, smart, kind, focused, determined, very patient, easily embarrassed, dedicated, snarky when he's pushed, resentful, thoughtful, cautious/careful, and a bit of an overachiever. He doesn't have any gifts or powers. He is dating Rachel Madrigal Botero and is friends with Vidal Alfaro Pezmuerto, Felicidad Ruíz, Becca Colyar, Topher Thompson, Prince Diego of Cordoba, Théotime ‘Time’ Cogsworth, and Rosana Cardoso). 

Christopher ‘Topher’ Thompson (18 years old by d3. Student at Auradon Prep and Member of the Auradon Prep Marching Band—wants to open a seaside restaurant on a boat where he can play music: he's workshopping the name. He is the secret great nephew of Smee. Secretive, open minded, somewhat lazy, thoughtful, cautious, playful, brave when it counts, patient, resilient, fun loving, adventurous, fun loving, creative, curious, attentive, and cuddly. He doesn't have any gifts or powers. He is dating Zoey Marquez Madrigal and is friends with Ben, Doug, the choir kids, the band kids, some of the tourney kids, a couple of the cheerleaders, and some of the Madrigals—he’s trying to win over the rest of them). 

Becca Colyar (16 years old by d3. Student at Auradon Prep and Member of the Cheerleading Squad—wants to be a professional dancer when she grows up. She is the daughter of Buford the Chef. Hyperactive, fun loving, easily excitable, sly, unpredictable, athletic, hardworking, occasionally impatient, reliable, strange, friendly, playful, blunt, adventurous, creative, thoughtful, dedicated, popular, funny, determined, respectful, focused, good listener, a total fangirl, and a bit team player. She doesn't have any gifts or powers. She is dating Miguel Marquez Madrigal Jr. and is friends with the rest of the Cheerleading squad, a couple of the band kids, Tyrone Rogers, Nina Rogers, Princess Avisa Athanasiou of Atlantica, Chao, Kelemon Ceinfarfog Of Northumberland, Blair of DunBroch, Nora Nattura, Hilda Bjorgman,  Princess Elle Athanasiou of Tirulia, Catharina ‘Cato’ Bones, and a pair of sisters named Mary and Dorothy). 

Felicidad Ruíz (15 years old by d3. Student at Auradon Prep and Former member of band, choir, and acapella—she’s close to resorting to making her own club at this point because as someone who plans to be a musician she refuses to stand for how few choices there are. She plans to start her own band or maybe join one of the Madrigal’s bands. She is the daughter of accordion player Alejo Ruíz. Caring, protective, opinionated, musically inclined, stubborn, cocky, passionate, talented, picky, judgemental, rebellious, persevering, non-conforming, fun loving, lazy when unmotivated/uninterested, occasionally dismissive, somewhat unreliable depending on who you are, creative, determined, dedicated, open minded, rule following to the extent that people don’t always realize she doesn’t respect them/don’t notice the rest of her personality, sneaky,  and under the firm belief that respect is earned, not freely given on principle of authority.  She doesn't have any gifts or powers. She is dating Fuega Alba Guzmán Madrigal and is friends with Mal, Ben, Evie, Doug, Portabella Neverwing, Freddie Facilier, Ally Liddell, Rosana Cardoso, Prince Ajax, Arabella Athanasiou, Anxelin Fitzherbert, Yi-Min, Marlon of DunBroch, Hodge Westergaard-La Bouff, Herkie Athanasiou, Icey White, Elle Athanasiou, Avisa Athanasiou, Annika and Raylene Jenkins, Théotime Cogsworth, and several of the band, choir, and acapella kids).

Rosana Cardoso (15 years old by d3. Student at the Encanto’s only public school and Member of the Choir and the outdoors club—she wants to be a home economics teacher, a seamstress, a fashion designer, or a mixture of the three if possible. Daughter of Encanto farmers. Preppy, cheerful, sweet, outwardly respectful, humbling, a tad bit cliquish, girly, helpful, sneaky, good at reading people, friendly enough, even tempered, restrained, protective, distinguished, fashionable, isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, graceful, optimistic, mostly conflict avoidant, affectionate, patient, curious, resourceful, calculating when required, creative, true to herself, semi-popular, and soothing with a rebellious side most don’t know about—she gives the perfect girl next door vibes. She doesn’t have any gifts or powers. She is dating Amelia Madrigal Prepon and is friends with the Madrigals as well as several people inside of the Encanto and out—but she’s noticeably close with the other farmer kids, Théotime Cogsworth, Felicidad Ruíz, Becca Colyar, Portabella Wings, Topher Thompson, Lin 'Gizmo' Mazorra, Prince Diego of Cordoba, Vidal Alfaro Pezmuerto, Cailee Beckett, Ronaldo Ortiz, and Haruto of Avalor. She also very noticeably hates Annabelle Scorfano and helped Amelia get revenge on Sofia’s former friends in the Encanto instead of soothing her temper as she usually would).

Annabelle Mijares Marcovaldo Scorfano (15 years old by d3. Student at Auradon Prep and Member of the Swim Team—she wants to go to the Olympics or be a model/actress. Daughter of Alberto Marcovaldo Scorfano. Grateful, oblivious, sneaky, deceitful, street smart, manipulative, cruel at times, lazy, selfish, prideful, fun-loving, pouty, expressive, secretive, judgemental, helpful when needed, shameless, and gregarious. She can shapeshift and breathe underwater. Tito Nattura Madrigal has a crush on her that is kind of requited. She is friends with Scarlet Bluefairy-Carmelo, Dragonet, Carter Bluefairy-Carmelo, Hugo Madrigal Prepon, Princess Roanne, Princess Mia Westergaard-La Bouff, Hap Bergmann, Unity Bergmann, Stella Rabbit, Demurra Foxworth, and Ariana Rose).

Wickley ‘Wick’ Wing (13 years old by d3. Transfer student from Neverland Academy to Auradon Prep during d3, former member of the Neverland Academy Cheer Team, and a fast flying talent fairy—he wants to be an amusement park worker or a zoologist when he grows up. Son of Trak the scouting fairy and Tizzywing the fast flying fairy. Mischievous, playful, fast on his feet, compassionate, passionate, brave, reckless, graceful most of the time, talented, friendly, impulsive, occasionally rude, fun loving, snarky, helpful, caring, sneaky, street smart, ditzy, and protective. He can fly and change his size. He has a crush on Belinda Nattura Madrigal and she has a crush on him. He is friends with Carlos Madrigal Prepon, Hugo Madrigal Prepon, Leta Guzmán, Tulip Rossi, Danny Darling, Portabella Neverwing, Eleanor Bluefairy-Carmelo, Pino ‘Pin’ Collodi-Rossi-Liddell, and Evenstar Cricket). 

Eleanor Bluefairy-Carmelo of Llyr (14 years old by d3. Student at Auradon Prep and Member of Belle’s Book Club and the Art Club—she wants to be a famous artist when she grows up. She is the daughter of Alexander  Bluefairy-Carmelo and Princess Eilonwy of Llyr. Modest, imaginative, mindful, a little stuffy, smart, dutiful, sneaky/secretive/deceptive, classy, stubborn, mischievous when no one is around to see, nerdy, introverted, and is oftentimes considered the ‘well-behaved’ one. She can fly and she has magic that she is currently practicing. Shs is dating Carlos Madrigal Prepon and is friends with Tulip Rossi, Pino ‘Pin’ Collodi-Rossi-Liddell, Wickley ‘Wick’ Wing, Marcelo  Rivera Madrigal, Portabella Neverwing, Ligera Guzman Madrigal, and Artorius 'Artie' Pendragon). 

Random Encanto Oc Extras:

Band members:

Alejo Ruíz, father of Felicidad Ruíz. 

Buenavista Bové, cousin of Sheyla and Cecilia Bové. 

Sol Velasquez, grandfather of Juancho and Reynaldo Velasquez. 

The (former) town kids:

Rio Gracia,  Juancho Velasquez, Ignacio Gracia, Cecilia Bové, Mirabel Madrigal, Alejandra Isvandi, Alonso Arias, and Sheyla Bové. 

Farmer:

Rendon Abraham Cerebro de Burro. He has three children—named Cimarron, Enrique, and Ana Cerebro de Burro.

Bartender/Bar Owner and Tech Guy:

Heidi Cova. Owner of the Encanto’s first (and possibly only) bar, Paraíso Fabricado. 

Dary Mazorra. Owner of the Encanto’s first tech shop, Miracle Tech. Father of Lin ‘Gizmo’ Mazorra.

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Picrew links: Wervty Profile, Luca, Baydews, Cowboy Picrew, Cowgirl Doll Divine maker, Fairy Meiker.io maker, Fairy Picrew 2 , ummmmandy, third fairy picrew, and chemicataclysm . Thanks to @igetthedisneybox for letting me use her ocs, Rosana and Felicidad, and for all the help she lent me in the creation of these ocs. Thanks to @bellalampwickrossi for allowing me to use Eleanor. And thanks to @fairiesandbeatleslover for allowing me to make Portabella based off of their oc, Egidius. The rest are background extras in the descendants movies and ocs based off of concept art.

[sleepberries]

For your spideyhood fics, if it interestes you any, I'd like to request some instances where Jason kills people/targets. See him enforce his rules and get his hands bloodied. I miss it. he is passionate about his goals and id really like to see him stick to his principles despite what everyone Wants him to do. If not killing then AT LEAST heavily torturing his target? maybe peter seeing him in his element and getting a reality check of what it means to really be dating the full, unfiltered jason todd? make it known he IS dating a very meticulous killer. OH or, have peter comparing jason to wade in how they execute their plans/targets? idk i just really miss jason getting things done His way, no compromising on his part. free him of these no kill rule and rubber bullet shackles ! unmuzzle my baby girl !!

okay this was actually great timing because a few days ago i finished the first draft of one of the prequels that is opening the discussion of just that !! it's important to note that while it hasn't really need shown yet, jason absolutely still is using lethal force. it's what he does!! and peter and him are absolutely butting heads over it. now, this ficlet doesn't have a name yet and i don't really have plans to post it for a while, but here you go !!

If there was one thing Peter Parker knew for absolute certain, it was that nothing good ever happened on a Tuesday.

Mondays were expected tragedies. Wednesdays marked the halfway point. Thursdays held promise. Fridays brought relief. But Tuesdays? Tuesdays were chaos incarnate—like the universe took all its leftover bad ideas and dumped them right in the middle of an otherwise perfectly fine week.

Case in point: the Red Hood was back in his city.

Peter spotted him immediately, a red-helmeted shadow skulking along a warehouse rooftop in the industrial district. It had been three weeks since their first encounter—since the mysterious vigilante had hauled that flickering wizard guy back to wherever murdery vigilantes took their prisoners. Peter had assumed that was the end of their brief, bizarre interaction.

Yet here he was again, lurking around Peter's turf like he owned the place.

"Well, well, well," Peter called out, landing with practiced grace on the edge of the roof. "If it isn't Gotham's favorite trigger-happy tourist."

Red Hood didn't startle. He merely turned his head, the expressionless helmet gleaming dully in the moonlight. "Spider-Man. Just the pest I was hoping to avoid."

"Aw, you remembered me!" Peter pressed a hand to his chest. "I'm touched. Really."

"Touch this," Hood growled, flipping him off before returning to what appeared to be surveillance of the warehouse across the street.

Peter rolled his eyes beneath his mask and approached, crouching down beside the leather-jacketed vigilante. "So what brings you back to the Big Apple? Miss my charming personality? The authentic pizza? Or did you just get lost on your way to Jersey's finest trash heap again?"

Red Hood remained focused on the warehouse. "I'm working."

"Ooh, cryptic. Love that for you." Peter leaned over, trying to see what had captured the other vigilante's attention so completely. "What kind of 'work' are we talking about? Because if it involves making people dead, I'm gonna have to firmly vote no on that."

Hood exhaled slowly, the sound distorted through his helmet. "How are you still alive when you're this annoying?"

"Superior reflexes, amazing good looks, and sheer force of will," Peter replied without missing a beat. "Now seriously, what's going on?"

For a moment, Peter thought Hood might actually shoot him just to shut him up. Instead, the vigilante reached into his jacket and pulled out a small device, projecting a holographic display of shipping manifestos.

"Someone's moving Scarecrow toxin through your city," he said finally. "Thought you might want to know before half of Manhattan starts hallucinating their worst fears."

Peter's humor evaporated instantly. "Scarecrow? As in the Gotham nutjob who makes people see nightmare fuel?"

"The same."

"How much toxin are we talking?"

"Enough to cover a ten-block radius," Hood replied, flicking through the manifesto. "They're moving it tonight. Splitting the shipment into three parts. This—" he gestured to the warehouse they were watching, "—is where they're dividing it up."

Peter studied the warehouse with newfound intensity. "Why would anyone bring that stuff here?"

"Money," Hood said simply. "Some rich asshole thinks it'll make a great party drug—the ultimate 'bad trip' for trust fund kids with too much cash and too little sense."

"That's..." Peter struggled to find words. "That's monumentally stupid."

"Welcome to humanity."

Peter's spider-sense buzzed faintly at the base of his skull—not immediate danger, but a warning of trouble ahead. He narrowed his eyes at Hood. "How do you know all this?"

The helmeted vigilante's posture shifted slightly. "I have my sources."

"Uh-huh. And you just happened to be passing through New York again?"

"Look, Spandex," Hood snapped, turning to face him fully. "I tracked these bastards from Gotham. They killed three people getting this stuff out. I don't give a rat's ass if you believe me or not, but that warehouse is about to receive enough fear toxin to turn this neighborhood into a horror show."

Peter held up his hands. "Okay, okay. I believe you."

Hood stared at him for a beat longer before returning to his surveillance. Peter watched him, mind racing. If what Hood was saying was true—and his spider-sense suggested it was—they had a serious problem on their hands.

"What's the plan?" Peter asked finally.

Hood glanced at him. "We?"

"Uh, yeah, we," Peter gestured between them. "This is my city, remember? I'm not letting you run around shooting people, no matter how bad they are."

The vigilante made a sound that might have been a laugh. "Cute. You think you can stop me."

"I know I can," Peter said, his voice dropping its usual playfulness. "The question is whether we work together efficiently or waste time fighting each other while dangerous chemicals get distributed through my city."

Red Hood went silent, considering. Finally, he put away the holographic device. "Fine. Here's how this goes. We wait until the shipment arrives. They'll bring it in, split it three ways. Once we confirm the toxin is there, we move in, neutralize the threat, and secure the shipment."

"When you say 'neutralize the threat'..." Peter began.

"I mean take down the criminals," Hood cut him off. "Christ, you think I'm going to execute people in front of you?"

"I genuinely have no idea what you're willing to do," Peter replied honestly. "That's kind of the issue here."

Hood tilted his helmet in what Peter imagined was an eye roll. "Just follow my lead and try not to get in my way."

"Counterproposal," Peter said brightly. "We follow my lead, since this is my city, and nobody dies. Crazy concept, I know."

"Here's a crazy concept for you—"

Hood's retort was cut short as a convoy of three unmarked vans pulled up to the warehouse. Men in dark clothing began unloading large metal crates.

"That's our cue," Hood muttered, reaching for his guns.

Peter quickly shot a web, stopping Hood's hand. "Whoa, hold up. We need a proper plan."

Hood yanked his hand free. "The plan is stop the bad guys, secure the toxin."

"Yeah, but like, with more steps and fewer bullets," Peter insisted. "These aren't just regular crooks—they're handling Scarecrow toxin. One broken container and everyone nearby is having the worst trip of their lives, us included."

Hood paused, then gave a reluctant nod. "Fine. What do you suggest?"

"I'll take high ground, web up the exits to prevent escape. You cover the main floor but—" Peter fixed him with what he hoped was a stern look despite his mask, "—non-lethal takedowns only. Deal?"

Hood stared at him for a long moment. "If this goes sideways because I couldn't use necessary force, it's on you."

"I can live with that. Can't say the same for your potential victims."

Without waiting for a response, Peter shot a web and swung toward the warehouse, positioning himself above a skylight. From here, he could see men opening the crates, revealing smaller metal containers inside. One of the men lifted a vial of sickly yellow liquid, examining it before carefully placing it in a specialized transport case.

Peter's earpiece crackled as Hood's voice came through. "I count twelve hostiles. Three armed with automatic weapons, the rest have handguns."

"When did you—" Peter touched his ear in surprise.

"Slipped a comm link onto your suit while you were busy being righteous," Hood replied. "You're welcome."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Twelve guys with guns handling extremely dangerous chemicals. What could possibly go wrong?"

"On my mark," Hood said, ignoring his sarcasm. "Three... two... one..."

Peter crashed through the skylight, glass shattering around him as he descended. In the same moment, Hood burst through a side door, guns drawn but—true to their agreement—firing what appeared to be rubber bullets.

"It's Spider-Man!" someone shouted.

"And the Red Hood!" another yelled, panic evident in his voice.

"Package deal, fellas!" Peter quipped, webbing two gunmen to the wall before they could aim. "Buy one vigilante, get another free!"

Hood moved with brutal efficiency, putting a bullet through the head of the first gunman who raised his weapon. The man crumpled instantly, dead before he hit the floor. Two more criminals charged him, and Hood dispatched them with methodical precision—one shot to the chest, another to the throat. Blood splattered across the concrete as they fell.

"What the hell?!" Peter shouted, momentarily frozen in horror.

"Holy shit, stop!" Peter called out, webbing frantically to incapacitate the remaining gunmen before Hood could execute them too. "The toxin containers!"

He swung low, kicking the legs out from under a bulky man raising his weapon toward Hood's back. The vigilante nodded in acknowledgment before drawing a knife and slashing it across the fallen attacker's throat in one fluid motion. Blood pooled beneath the dying man as Hood moved on without hesitation.

"Behind you!" Hood barked suddenly.

Peter's spider-sense flared as he twisted mid-air, narrowly avoiding a knife that would have slashed across his ribs. He webbed the attacker's face, blinding him, then connected with a solid punch that sent the man sprawling.

The fight was chaotic but controlled. Peter had to admit—grudgingly—that Hood knew what he was doing. His movements were precise, economical, lacking the flashy acrobatics Peter favored but no less effective.

Six men were down. Then eight. Then ten.

Just as victory seemed certain, one of the remaining gunmen made a desperate play. He grabbed a vial of toxin from an open case.

"Stay back!" he shouted, holding the vial threateningly. "One more step and I break this! We'll all get a lungful!"

Peter froze. Hood stopped advancing.

"Smart choice," the man sneered, backing toward an exit. His partner used the distraction to edge toward another door.

"Buddy, I don't think you understand what you're holding," Peter said carefully. "That's not just some drug. That's military-grade nightmare juice."

"Shut up!" the man shouted, his hand trembling dangerously around the vial.

Peter saw Hood's posture shift subtly, his hand inching toward a different pouch on his belt.

"Let me handle this," Peter said quickly, both to Hood and the gunman. "Nobody else needs to get hurt."

The man laughed, high and panicky. "You think I'm stupid? The second I put this down, I'm done for!"

"True," Hood said suddenly, his electronically distorted voice eerily calm. "You're done either way."

Before Peter could react, Hood had drawn and fired in one fluid motion. The bullet pierced the man's shoulder, causing him to stumble backward in pain. As he fell, Hood fired again, this time straight through his heart. The man was dead before he hit the ground, his hand releasing the vial as he collapsed.

"No!" Peter shouted, lunging forward.

The vial slipped from his fingers.

Time seemed to slow as Peter lunged forward, shooting a web to catch the falling container. His webbing wrapped around it just inches from the floor, suspending it in a cocoon of synthetic silk.

"Jesus Christ," Peter breathed, heart hammering against his ribs.

"Problem solved," Hood said, stalking over to kick away the fallen gunman's weapon before the man could recover.

Peter carefully retrieved the webbed vial, securing it back in its container. "You call that solved? You nearly caused exactly what we were trying to prevent!"

"I had it under control," Hood replied dismissively.

"Like hell you did!" Peter snapped. "Another inch and we'd all be tripping balls right now!"

Hood turned to the last remaining criminal, who had frozen in place during the commotion. The man immediately raised his hands in surrender.

"Don't shoot! Please!"

Hood advanced slowly. "Where were you taking the shipments?"

"I—I don't know the final destinations," the man stammered. "We were just paid to split it up and hand it off!"

"Not good enough," Hood growled. Without hesitation, he shot the man in the knee. The criminal screamed, collapsing to the ground.

Hood knelt beside him, pressing the hot barrel of his gun against the man's temple. "Let's try again. Where were the shipments going?"

"Jesus, stop!" the man sobbed. "There's a club in Manhattan! Blue Velvet! The owner's the distributor!"

Hood nodded, then pressed the gun harder. "Who's your supplier? Who got it out of Gotham?"

"Penguin's crew! It was Penguin's crew! Please!"

Hood considered this information, then stood up. Before Peter could react, he fired a single shot through the man's head.

"STOP!" Peter yelled, webbing Hood's arm and yanking it violently. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Hood whirled on him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Stopping you from crossing a line," Peter said firmly. "We got what we came for. The toxin is secure, the bad guys are down. It's over."

"It's not over until I get answers!" Hood snarled, wiping blood from his leather jacket. "You think this is the only shipment? You think these are the only guys involved? Wake up, Spider-Man!"

"You just executed them all in cold blood!" Peter's voice shook with rage and disbelief. "You didn't even hesitate!"

"That's how this works," Hood said coldly. "They knew what they signed up for. Trafficking fear toxin means they were ready to torture thousands of innocent people for profit."

"That doesn't give you the right to be judge, jury, and executioner!" Peter shouted. "We have a justice system for a reason!"

"A system that fails every single day," Hood countered, his voice dripping with contempt. "While you web them up and the cops process them, lawyers get them out, judges let them walk, and they're back on the street doing the same shit before the blood dries. I stop the cycle permanently."

Peter stared at the carnage around them—seven bodies, blood pooling on concrete. "This isn't justice. It's slaughter."

"It's necessary," Hood replied without remorse. "Get out of my way. I need to hit that club before they realize something's wrong here."

"No."

The tension between them stretched taut, a rubber band about to snap. Peter's spider-sense hummed steadily, warning him of the impending confrontation.

Hood moved first, feinting left before driving a right hook toward Peter's jaw. Even with his enhanced reflexes, Peter barely avoided the blow—Hood was fast, far faster than he had any right to be.

Peter flipped backward, creating distance. "You really want to do this now?"

"You started it," Hood replied, closing the gap with a flurry of strikes that Peter blocked or dodged.

Peter recognized military training in Hood's movements—disciplined, precise, unlike the brawlers he usually dealt with. He returned the assault with his own style—agile, unpredictable, enhanced by his spider-sense and superhuman strength.

They were evenly matched in ways that surprised Peter. For every blow Hood landed, Peter connected with one of his own. For every trick Peter employed, Hood had a counter.

"You're—pretty good—for a walking traffic light," Peter grunted, narrowly avoiding a kick aimed at his midsection.

"And you're—not completely useless—for a circus reject," Hood returned, ducking under Peter's roundhouse.

They clashed again, Hood's armored forearm meeting Peter's web-reinforced block with a solid thunk. They broke apart, circling each other warily.

Around them, webbed and injured criminals watched in confusion as their captors battled each other.

"This is stupid," Peter said finally, breathing hard. "We're on the same side."

"Are we?" Hood challenged. "Because from where I'm standing, you're protecting criminals."

"I'm preventing murder," Peter corrected. "There's a difference."

Hood gestured sharply at the containers of toxin. "You know what that stuff does? It doesn't just scare people. It breaks them. Pushes their brains past what they can handle. People claw their own eyes out. Jump from buildings. Kill their loved ones because they see monsters instead of family."

His voice had taken on a raw quality that penetrated even the electronic distortion of his helmet. "I've seen it firsthand. These bastards were willing to spread that for profit. They don't deserve your protection."

Peter lowered his guard slightly. "It's not about what they deserve. It's about who we are. What we stand for."

"Save the sermon," Hood snapped, but some of the fight had gone out of him. "Some problems can't be solved by webbing them to a lamp post and calling the cops."

"Maybe not," Peter admitted. "But if we start playing judge, jury, and executioner, how are we any different from the bad guys?"

Hood stared at him for a long moment, then holstered his gun with a muttered curse. "You're exhausting, you know that?"

Peter grinned beneath his mask. "It's part of my charm."

Before Hood could respond, the sound of sirens pierced the night air. Someone had called the police—probably a neighbor alarmed by the gunfire.

Hood tensed. "That's my cue to leave."

"Wait," Peter said quickly. "The toxin—we need to contain it properly."

Hood considered this, then nodded. "I've got specialized containment units in my bike. Can neutralize the compound if anything leaks."

"Great. I'll round up our new friends here while you get the gear." Peter gestured to the criminals, some moaning in pain, others silently watching their exchange. "Try not to shoot anyone on the way, okay?"

"No promises," Hood muttered, but there was less hostility in his tone now.

As Hood headed for the exit, Peter called after him: "Hey, Red!"

The vigilante paused, glancing back.

"Thanks. For the heads-up about the toxin. You didn't have to come all this way."

Hood seemed to consider his words carefully before responding. "Next time, I'll send a postcard."

Peter laughed. "Next time, maybe just call ahead. I know a great pizza place."

"I'll pass."

"Your loss," Peter shrugged. "Best slice in New York."

Hood hesitated at the door, then said, "Jersey pizza is better," before disappearing into the night.

Peter stared after him, then shook his head with a grin. "Delusional and murdery. What a combination."

After their fight ended in a stalemate, Hood had disappeared into the night with his intel on the club. Peter had spent the next hour securing the toxin in the specialized containment units Hood had left behind. He webbed up the two surviving criminals—the only ones he'd managed to protect from Hood's lethal efficiency.

When the police arrived, Peter was gone too, leaving only a note explaining about the Scarecrow toxin and the connection to Blue Velvet club. He deliberately omitted mentioning the Red Hood. The officers would find enough carnage without his explanation.

As Peter swung home later that night, his mind replayed the violence he'd witnessed. The Red Hood wasn't just dangerous or unpredictable—he was a killer, methodical and unrepentant. The vigilante executed his targets with a calculated precision that reminded Peter uncomfortably of stories he'd heard about the Punisher.

But unlike Deadpool's chaotic, almost playful approach to violence or Punisher's grim, militaristic execution, Hood killed with a cold efficiency that spoke of training and conviction. He didn't seem to enjoy the killing—he simply deemed it necessary.

And that, somehow, disturbed Peter even more.

"He really believes he's doing the right thing," Peter muttered, landing on a rooftop to catch his breath. The weight of that realization settled heavily on his shoulders.

Though Peter had tried to stop him, Hood had walked away with information about the club. Which meant more people would likely die tonight. Peter couldn't shake the blood from his conscience, even if he hadn't pulled the trigger himself.

His phone buzzed in his hidden pocket—probably Aunt May wondering why he wasn't home yet. As he reached for it, Peter noticed something stuck to his suit: a small tracking device, no bigger than a button.

He plucked it off, examining it with a mixture of distaste and reluctant fascination.

"Really, Hood?" he muttered.

Next to the tracker was a folded note, tucked securely into his suit. Peter opened it cautiously.

In sharp, angular handwriting: "Blue Velvet taken care of. Owner won't distribute toxin or anything else again. Six more dead, all guilty. Don't interfere next time. Thanks for the save with the vial. — RH"

Peter crushed the tracker between his fingers, letting the pieces scatter in the wind. Then he shot a web and continued on his way home, making a mental note to scan his suit more thoroughly next time.

Because there would definitely be a next time. He was sure of it.

Tuesday strikes again.