#I love this stupid pose he does he’s so dumb I need him

[somethinginworl]

He would not fucking say that - Kirby franchise edition (Results)

Well! Seems like a lot of people had a lot to say about mischaracterized Kirby characters, as a matter of fact, there were a whooping 57 entries! Well, let’s get going with them, shall we? Just,,, beware that this is a LOOONG post.

Haltmann

The dude 100% did fucked up shit and needs to be held accountable but people seem to so easily forget the degree he was influenced/corrupted by Star Dream. I don't understand why people hate Haltmann and love Star Dream who is arguably the actual reason HWC started colonizing and draining planets. Also the fact that Haltmann isn't conventionally attractive to the majority of the fandom makes him less sympathetic ig?? But the dude is a grieving father who made mistakes that sent him down a spiral into being corrupted and then deleted by a heartless machine. I can't help but pity him

Prince Fluff

Go on ao3. Look in his tag on tumblr. He exists only to be Kirby or Shadow Kirby's love interest most of the time, with no personality of his own.

He barely gets recognized anymore, and if he does, it's usually as a ship Prince Fluff was a big part of my childhood, with Epic Yarn being my first game. To me, he was Kirby's fellow main character, and they had a cool sibling/best friend relationship. But now, a lot of what I see of him is just . . . Kirfluff. Which is cool and all, but man's a prince! He can do more than be a boyfriend! Heck, he runs an entire kingdom by himself! One thing that I want to see more of is Fluff as a stressed but caring ruler, not just a sidekick/boyfriend to the pink puff. Give yarn boy his deserved appreciation!.

Dark Meta Knight

Hello! I am here to spread the good word of a character with no personality. It's the mirror thing. Of course.  Dark Meta Knight has No Personality. Zero. Nada. Zilch. He's Meta Knight but Dark. What does that mean? Your guess. He fights Meta Knight. And wins lmao skill issue blueboy. And fights Kirby. And loses a few times, which isn't surprising. He was dumb enough to split Kirby in four, though. Four times the Kirby is four times the amount your ass is grass. You're practically a forest at that point because you're so grass. So he's violent and has no personality outside of being violent. Woo! Triple Deluxe has him attack Dedede in Dededetour inside the Mirror. This has led people to think he fucked over Sectonia. This makes my heart bleed as much as Taranza probably did when he was punted off of Royal Road via Fuck You Lightning Ball. My man just has no sense of timing,,,, They just wanted to include a Meta Knight battle because Knight Battles are a Kirby standard at this point,,, You think a man that stupid can figure out how to take advantage of a woman's insecurity? I don't even know if he knows women exist. How many female Amazing Mirror characters are there??? Boxy??? Moley mentions having a wife once and Dameta doesn't know what he means. But other than being driven to immense violence and being scapegoated for the stuff his boss probably did, Dameta has other hobbies! Like whatever his motivation in Star Allies is. Something dastardly, I'm sure. People really like to pretend he's not part of the Star Ally club when my man is doodling with toddlers and posing with his less cool less edgy self. Would a villain have a silly little we heart kirby statue? No, didn't think so. Also I cannot imagine him as a dad to Shadkirby either. Do they even interact? I've seen both "Amazing dad" and "Outright abusive" as interpretations and I can't go with either. But I think that's because I don't enjoy Metadad that much. They're like awkward coworkers. He thinks they're student and mentor. They're not even that. Dameta barely knows Shadow exists.

Dark Meta Knight is very popularly characterized as like an abusive parent, usually physically abusive. Mainly to Shadow Kirby, of course. He's an asshole, yeah, but not THAT bad, christ. I've seen multiple fics where Shadow Kirby is some poor little hey what t the fuck hes fighting himself. um. Back to being a hater.

Shadow Kirby

Some folks still think he's shy/cowardly like from the Amazing Mirror Days. Not really true anymore. From what fans have seen from the ending of the game, he does protect the Mirror World. As for the spin off games that include him, he's pretty tough and even creates mischief sometimes.

Shadow Kirby is constantly treated as an "evil" Kirby. Especially bad after Fighters and fighters two. Not to mention "Parallel Kirby". There's also a strangely common trend of making them more sapient than pink Kirby, who tends to be infantilised to hell and back. Shadow Kirby also is often treated as a complete coward who can't do anything right, when they aren't called evil.

He's shown as completely different in several different occasions, not only in personality but in design I like shadow kirby he's purple and then he's not

Dark Taranza

Dark Taranza, gonna be honest what little characterization people give him are actually okay compared to the rest. But I'm still a hater and hang on im watching jerma clips. okay. He's like Sectonia if Sectonia was Taranza if that makes sense.

Shadow Dedede

Shadow Dedede barely gets shit but I'm going to be a little hater anyways. I don't like most characterizations. I see people make him like a dictator like bro he's literally just some guy.

Sectonia

have you seen how often people say that  sectonia and taranza were boyfriend and girlfriend in canon?????? they were never!!! shes the gosh dang final boss but shes only ever used to give taranza angst. she is her own person with a personality!!!! yes their backstories are interconnected but gosh!!!!

This not too prominent but I can't stand it when people portray her as an uwu shy girl pre-corruption. While she gave in her worst aspects, she was probably always a kind of vain, girlboss! I mean she knows how to fight with rapiers c'mon!!!

idk it just feels like lots of people just see her as Taranza's tragic dead wife and like nothing else you know? like she is more than that and I feel like what little content we have of her proves that (like the soul boss descriptions (especially the original japanese text of the 2nd phase!!) and the eternal dream song) - or maybe im reading too much into those because im hyperfixating on my blorbo whoops

Kine

I'm not sure how true this opinion is considering how little people talk about Kine, I feel this is partially the anime's fault, or maybe its because of how he just looks, but Kine is cool and is not some stupid loser fish. Before the days of Crystal Shards, Him, Kirby, Rick & Coo were the dream team at the time, always hanging out going, with various activities long before the days of Meta Knight or even Dedede. Kine is an awesome aquatic rep for the Kirby series not to mention drinking and being a pirate and Kine even has a Wife! Kine has got it! I guess this is a partial compliant of Ship of Theseus which can be applied with Rick & Coo too, but I feel Kine gets the most hate if any because of people who are unfamiliar just see a dopey fish and are unaware of his origins and his past with Kirby. I'm not upset with the current representation of the Kirby cast (I love the RTDL team being the main crew) but I do hope the animal buddies get some more love, Especially Kine.

Dedede

reduced to his significantly less in-depth and compelling characterization from the anime

Anime Dedede.

Magolor

one time i read a series of fanfictions where he called every female character in the story a bitch and was portrayed as the good guy in the story

Is it possible to both be flanderized and woobified at the same time? There is a lot of "removing his responsibility for his actions" but can we get better jokes than "hehe Microtransgolor hehe scammer egg”

Always an uwu soft boy. Like no that is a criminal not a catboy.

Bro would never be intimidated by Magolor

Marx

People either portray him as a edgy sociopath or constantly bored and annoyed. Portraying him as an adult or a teen kinda annoys me as well. I'm very picky about portrayals of Marx so don't get upset if you portray him as one of these I've listed.

Sometimes I see people only joking about the "hungry so he came along" thing with Marx and it's pretty overdone

They took one look at him and said “to the insane asylum bitch”. I don’t think he’s some crazy murder hobo rather a dude with questionable morals and puts his own mischief and fun before others it seems. Though Marx is indeed one of the least “character” characters when I mean he doesn’t have much depth in comparison to other characters. But you could do anything else than have him follow the Jevil path of him being crazy. Make him evil? Sure. Make him a cringefail idiot? Sure. Make him a crybaby bitch? Go ahead. But making him the definition of what a 14 year old white girl in New Jersey that probably is addicted to Instagram and thinks Webtoon comics are the highest level of art and storytelling’s definition of insane doesn’t cut it cuz. Slapping the spaz label without a thought of what’s being done on a character who fits the mark makes the Schizoid peeved who coulda known. As this is all coming from the one person who has likely ruined Marx’s character the most for Kirblur by making him a somewhat empathetic manchild who clings to both pipe dreams of normality and being a monster btw. (Also this doesn’t mean jokes, you can joke about him being a psycho like Jerma it’s when it’s taken 100% seriously is when it’s bad).    Also to add on, Woobification of Marx or any Kirby character period CAN be annoying if taken too far. I take full responsibility in the fact my variant is also woobifed to an extent but that train full of ticking bombs doesn’t bother me as much. Make him sadcry and be gay he deserves both those things. Send him to sad hell with the rest of them.

To the anon above... What?

Making him stupid or reducing him to just Silly Clown. Or just having him act in purely impulsive or spontaneous ways (which sometimes happens when juxtaposed with a more "collected" character like Magolor).

Daroach

this is something i’ve noticed specifically in chatfics, but when daroach is in the ensemble some of them tend to designate him as the Goofy Meme Dumbass for… idk, fandom quota? i really don’t know why it happens because he has a bunch of canon dialogue (and alternate continuity stuff like the novels) that show him to be cool and clever. i’m not saying he can’t have a sense of humor or anything (he’s definitely the type to have a bunch of quips), but it sucks when he’s mischaracterized because the fandom doesn’t give him that much attention as is. if you NEED a silly haha guy, marx is right there!”

Morpho Knight

"Morpho Knight is a creature of mercy. It's a benevolent entity putting tired souls to rest." NO?! I'm going to copy-paste some stuff I put in a post of my own. A while back, SYZekrom on Reddit translated Morpho Knight's entry, and it contains some... interesting information. Allow me to provide some excerpts. "He’s a red knight with butterfly wings, continuing from a pair of white wings like an angel’s, and a pair of azure wings with a bit of an evil feel." This is the first of two instances where Morpho Knight is outright stated to be evil. There's also stuff in the art book that supports my theory that Galacta and Morpho are permanently fused and the former is not dead, but I don't want to get carried away. These are its gacha figure descriptions in Forgotten Land: "The fluttering fiend that casts judgment upon final battles is drawn toward the isolated isles of Forgo Dreams. There, it feasts on the most powerful soul it finds and takes the fearsome form of a scarlet-clad knight… Let the most challenging battle of this new world begin!" –English "One of the dreaming birds, which are said to pass judgement upon decisive battles, drifts towards a forgotten, isolated isle as if summoned. There, it sips upon the strongest Soul and descends as a red knight. Finally, welcome the dusk… of the deadliest battle in this New World!"  –Japanese While at first glance there doesn't seem to be any information of note, the "fluttering fiend" bit in the English version is outright stating Morpho Knight is evil, and the phrase "he deadliest battle in this New World" doesn't sound particularly heroic. But I digress... Morpho is NOT a good person! This is clearly leading up to a villain vs hero confrontation! Which, may I add, implies that reaping Galacta Knight wasn't necessarily a good thing for it to do?!

Elfilis

elfilis is NOT entirely malicious. they would gladly accept hugs and kisses. being in a fucking capsule ALONE and AWARE for likely CENTURIES will DO SOMETHING TO YOU YOU KNOW?? god fucking DAMN dude... and after the ending of the true arena in the game, WILLINGLY GAVE THEMSELF UP TO ELFILIN. also they're not fucking DEAD you PSYCHOPAYHS elfilis is STILL VERY MUCH ALIVE!!!!!!! RUUAAAGGGH!!!!!!!!!!

Susie

Being Evil or being a Sad uwu girl who has had bad things happen to her seems to be the only way most people can portray this character.

Susie isn't a friend. She's selfish and wanted to take over the company. Her "redemption" is pointing Kirby at the world-ending machine, gives him armor, and then stands around. She doesn't even know his name. The closest she does for good is tell Kirby to do something he would've done on his own.

My girl really became the subject of hate thanks to a mistranslation. I mean yeah she likes robots and shit but the fact that people think she is a terrible person and that she's still colonizing planets makes me upset. i blame the translation team for everything.

When people say she has fully redeemed herself and is reduced to cishet, pretty girl??? Like no, star allies mistranslation my ass you fell for her corporate propaganda. The female characters in this franchise, while lovable, is not nearly as popular as a lot of the male ones. HAL literally gave us a morally grey girlboss who we can still sympathise with. She actually feels like a very real character in this fictional world.

You Know How People Are About Her

she's not even my blorbo!!!!!! everyone thinks she's a huge evil bitch who has done terrible genuinely unspeakable things. i read a fic that went on and on abt the horrible things she "did" to meta knight when he was mechanized (things so bad i cant even say) and i was pulling my hair out she did not fucking do any of that!!!! yes the universe can have pretty dark moments but good lord people only use her to woobify meta knight and give fuel to ship him with others and it pisses me off lol. or people go too far the other way and woobify HER to ship with him and aughhhh no one has a shred of media literacy. she's not purely good or purely evil she's such a complex character who did bad things because she was in a bad situation and the best example of a morally grey character who's on no one's side but herself and that will always be more interesting that 100% good or 100% evil. once again she's not even my blorbo but i've never seen a character butchered this badly by a fandom

Because of mistranslation (from what I've heard) Susie's whole mechanizing planets has been the number one thing when it came to susie hate and the only reason as to why people hate this girl so much. Honestly Susie's character has been fucked up immensely and no one has such a divided spread of opinions like she does. Some people brush away her backstory and make her a soulless being with no love whatsoever.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Susie Haltmann. I cannot with the fandom interpretations anymore. It's ridiculous how bad they've gotten. Susie is a two dimensional character. I absolutely despise seeing people portray her as some sort of greedy capitalist bastard and "the one with the braincell". In canon, she's consistently been portrayed as a sweet person (with a knack for violence, but EVERYONE in this series is like that). Everything bad she did in Planet Robobot was FOR WORK and the will of HER FATHER, and even if she did want to do the things she did, she's clearly not doing them any more. The "mechanizing planets and peoples" line in Star Allies is a mistranslation. And the "punishing savages" doesn't have to mean anything bad. It could mean she's punishing evildoers with her money and resources. In fact, I've seen some translations put it like that And Meta Knight... is just the straw that broke the camel's back. Oh lord. Why does everyone insist that he hates her? There's the little scene in Star Allies... but god, that isn't canon, it's clearly a joke. If anything, Susie might have been trying to talk to him and he was just trying to avoid her in a misinterpretation of the situation. It's supposed to be funny. Why are you imposing this onto people like this automatically makes Susie a devil incarnate and anything involving those two characters in problematic? Just shut up.

Meta Knight

Everyone thinks he’s just the ‘edgy character’ or ‘the uncaring mentor figure’ while in actuality he really does care for Kirby (and Bandana Dee) more than anyone gives him credit for!

Everyone either makes him all broody and lonesome, like shadow the hedgehog or batman; or they make him a goofy dad, like Dedede or Hugh Neutron. In reality, he's a weird uncle with unknown motivations, simultaneously selfish and practical. Also, he doesn't hide the fact that he likes sweets, he eats them away from everyone so no one steals them (Dedede and Squeak Squad).

He's not Kirby's fucking dad! He's an irresponsible uncle that hands out swords! And he is definitely in love with dedede, he is the only other dramatic bitch willing to build a skyscraper to beat up kirby (I am using intense anger for comedic effect) 

HES A FUCKING TWINK ASS FRUITY ASS MOTHERFUCKING CRINGEFAIL MAN. HE NEEDS TO HAVE HIS PERSONALITY INTERPRETED AS BOTH THE MANGA AND THE GAMES. YES HE IS MYSTERIOUS BUT HE ALSO WOULD TRIP AND FALL OVER HIMSELF. I NEED STAR ALLIES KICKING SWORD PISSED. I NEED MANGA ROSES BITCHASS META. I NEED THAT PARTICULAR VERSION OF MY BOY meat knight RIGHT NOW. meta knight is cringefail. half of the fandom agrees the other half does not. im explode.

He wants to look cool so bad but he is actually a huge fucking goofy goober. Any representation of Meta Knight being a badass is propaganda made by Meta Knight himself to convince you he’s cool. I mean have you seen his RTDL Deluxe pause screen description? King Dedede’s and Bandana Dee’s are in first person, but his is in third person? He’s literally talking about himself in the third person like hello????? Meta Knight is such a fucking lame goofy little man who thinks he’s the most badass motherfucker on the planet.

To fair this has been less common lately but back during 2014-2016 MK was usually portrayed in fanart/fanfic as either this wise veteran or cold edgelord. He is just an unhindged!!! Silly!!! Guy!!! He can be cool and cringefail!!! But he is also compassionate in his own aloof, awkward way!!! 

i am not a big fan of the metadede ship. i think people are shipping for the sake of having a ship and nothing else. As someone with a severely underrepresented orientation (aromantic and asexual), when I see a character I like, I will project onto said character. This is the case with my interpretation of Meta Knight. I saw a cool character that I liked who a) doesn’t have any canon love interests and b) didn’t really need a whole ton of friends/significant others to be happy with life. Meta Knight always seemed to be perfectly content with the friends he has on Popstar and his crew and everyone in the anime, so I looked to him for hope that I could live the same way. I was open to the metadede ship at first, but as time passed, I felt less and less comfortable with it. It seemed to me that people were so hungry for gay ships that they just pulled this one out of thin air courtesy of Kirby Fighters 2, which is to my knowledge the only piece of media that somewhat supports this. Why can’t people just be happy with MK and Dedede being friends or frenemies? I’m probably starting drama with this bc I know how popular metadede is on Tumblr so I apologize for upsetting you if that is the case.  But I also feel that I shouldn’t apologize just because I have a different opinion.

I dislike how "pathetic" the fandom has made him out to be. I don't like it when he's portrayed as overpowered but... "pathetic, whiny manlet" could not be further from the truth. How did we get to that?

Kirby

Often people make Kirby more dependent on others than he actually is. He's an extremely independent person that literally cannot be stopped by anyone who tries to get in his way

ik its been covered to death but matpat made that video about how kirby is evil and completely ignored the themes of friendship and kindness that are present throughout the entire series

dude hes not a baby. he drinks in the manga adukt kirbies are a fine interp god. and hes not a godkiller or some shit he just fights for his friends hes not some terrifying monster kirby is literally just some friendly guy. strong yeah but just some guy. he fights strong entities incidentally lol

The anime portrays them as a literal infant, and due to its overprevalence (despite not being in the same stream of canon as the games), this is often their characterization in the fandom.  Canonically, they indeed are a child (at most, they'd probably be a teen in the modern games), but they are old enough to talk, and they demonstrate a high amount of emotional and even technical intelligence.

Admittedly, this is one that usually only happens to people outside the fandom, but it bugs me when people portray Kirby as a sort of immoral monster who only does good things on accident. When it’s quite the opposite! He may not be incredibly bright, but he does his best to help people. Oddly enough, there’s not many cases of “he would not say that” in the fandom for me because of how loose Kirby’s story is. It is lore heavy but the actual characters aren’t super concrete save for a few and I think that’s perfectly fine

People forget that their air bullet!! is an attack!! its literally one of their only ways of dealing damage in DL1!!! I’m looking at you Smash Bros!!! Why isn’t it their nair?????????

making them a toddler who cant speak for themself

I swear everyone outside of the fandom sees Kirby as either a braincell infant or  a merciless force of mass destruction

Taranza

WHAT DIDN'T THEY DO!?!?!? Taranza, as we see him in Triple Deluxe, is such a fun villain. He's dramatic, arrogant, a total suck-up to Sectonia, and it's so. Fucking. Good. He's a devious bastard, he monologues!!! His animations in the Clash games are so fucking campy and dramatic it's chefs kiss!!!! Fanon Taranza is as plain as white bread. Sometimes as pale as it, looking at some of the gijinkas. No shade though! As little shade as there is melanin in him lmAO- He is flanderised to hell and back. There are so. Many. Fucking. Taranzas who happen to be nothing but sad and weepy about his evil dead wife. Where's the bite!!! The pizzazz!!! Even in canon, when he is a bit of a wet sack later on, he still hunts for an altar he can bring her back on. My boy's a wannabe necromancer!!! Write that shit in your lost lenore Sectonia fic you fucking cowards Queen's Phantom ain't just for show. The above is also evidence for woobification! The fucker is obviously sad his crush is dead! But can we pleeease focus on anything else. This is definitely not targeted at Hal Labs. Imagine being woobied so hard your creators backtrack your personality I would just die. "Ehehe he's the responsible mage!!" No the fuck he isn't he can't be trusted with anything he tries take control it WILL blow up in his face. He knows magic he's good at magic but is he responsible??? Fuck no my man's strongest attack is "Blow myself the fuck up via a giant burst of magic" and it shreds. Even worse is the "Taranza got mind-controlled by Sectonia" theory in tandem with this. That wasn't confirmed right. Right. God I hope not that would be embarrassing. He can't even have a moment to realise his devotion has gone too far and she doesn't love him or even care for him, and he has to finally make that decision to free himself from her like ain't that cool!!! And then making him all sad over her afterwards it's just a Little Fucked if you're tryna put it all together eh. Eh. And he's not suuuper objectified (That usually goes to Seccy rest in piss girlie) but the way he's treated in some ships is. Eugh. Fucking Magoranza amirite he's basically there to look responsible and cute (I've already explained my issue with this) and to fix the tortured soul who is Magolor (I do not like Magolor. Nor Magoranza.) Tbh Sectaranza does the same he's there to be tragic because his girlie's dead. When you give him less personality than the dead cardboard cutout you know you fucked up. Anyways these ramblings are here to remind you what Hal Labs stole from us: Taranza but not a TOTAL saddo. Theatre kid Taranza. Arrogant prick. He's even British.

For the anon above me, I just wanted to say that this entry is probably my favorite and lives rent free in my mind.

I'm definitely guilty of it and it's all we have to go off of but PLEASE he needs more than to be Sad. Give him hobbies and interests that aren't just gardening, at least. Make stuff up about him, please!

So, SO many people make him an absolute crybaby over Sectonia. Even though, yes, he has grief problems, it's not his whole freaking personality. Pretty sure they're forgetting the fact that he LITERALLY HELPED KILL HER.

Taranza is not just a little pathetic guy!! He’s a bitch— a little schemer if you will !!! He’s smug—he’s formal—he’s a little fucker!!! Taranza needs a new partner and that partner is me

Oddly enough I do think people make him out to be a bit too much of a goody two shoes. Like he has done some mean things in the past and it wasn’t all Sectonia’s fault, he literally *stole* the Dimensional Mirror after all. Don’t get me wrong I think he’s a good person in the end, but cmon. He has committed crimes

Taranza in some corners of the fandom has kinda been turned into this forever crying baby who can never recover from losing Joronia and like, I never see people who do that write about the recovery and being able to move on to the final stage of grief.

HE IS NOT A SIMP, MY GOD

Everyone needs to stop reducing him to pathetic simp. He is allowed to grieve but he's probably one of the more mature characters within the series???

People disregard everything else about his character to make his tragic relationship with sectonia his only character trait. Not sure if this quite counts as woobifying since he does canonically still mourn her (and obviously seeing a close friend/crush go down the path of self destruction and ultimately die from it WOULD NOT be something you'd get over quickly). But I'm so tired of taranza in fanart and the like being an uwu softboy with Crying as his main character trait. Like he's canonically more than that! He goes full cocky villain mode when you confront him near the end of triple deluxe and he can pack a punch in star allies with his magic! If you're going to write about him prove that you don't just know about the guy from twitter artwork!

And here’s a graph!

Anyways, thanks everyone for your submissions! What I’ve learned here is important: We’re all fucking delusional.

[onlylovingstrangers]

HOW OSAMU REACTS TO BEING YOUR CRUSH

"You should definitely consider setting up a social media account for Onigiri Miya. This taste never gets old," you enthuse.

It'd been a long day at work, and you had thought, why not drop in for a snack?

Osamu had seen you through the window and by the time you were settled into your favorite place by the counter, a plate filled with your favorites had been delivered to your seat.

He reaches out now to pick off a rice grain from your cheek. "Stop talkin' with yer mouth full, dork."

"Listen to what I'm sayin', freak," you say affectionately.

"I am listening, idiot."

"So whaddya say? I could help you set it up. I could help you run it!"

I could do this for you, I could do that. You think it's dumb that people clock Osamu for the smarter twin just cause he talks less, because how could someone with even half a brain miss all the hints you've dropped that you are madly in love with him? Even Atsumu has for a few years been aware of your stupid crush on his brother, requiring several bribes to keep his fat mouth shut.

The only explanation you can come up with is that your childhood friend is an idiot.

Then again, you are the one in love with said idiot, which maybe makes you a bit of one too.

Osamu sighs. "Ya make a temptin' offer, but you're already so busy with work — don't even tryta deny that — and ya need to rest."

"Nooooo," you immediately deny, though you both know it's true.

When he shoots you a look, you hasten to add: "Running an Instagram account isn't hard work. Here, look at my photo account, which I update daily. Takes like, five minutes."

You hand over your cell to Osamu, who starts scrolling through the posts. Most of them are of the sky or of a pretty flower, with the occasional selfie. Osamu smiles at your cute poses, ignoring the pangs of jealousy when he sees his stupid brother's comments spamming your page. Instead he snorts at the username. "Where the hell did he come up with msbyatsumurocks?"

"I know. Who the hell does he think he is?" You agree.

Suddenly his fingers still at one of your selfies, which you'd captioned, Amazing day today. Below that, his stupid brother had left a... not so stupid comment.

@msbyatsumurocks: Why, did ya finally confess to my stupid brother?

"You like me?"

The startling question has you choking on rice and seaweed and tuna. The person behind your downfall leaps into action, thumping you on the back with conviction.

When you finally regain the ability to speak, you're prepared to refuse the statement with every thread of your soul, every fiber of your being, but Osamu beats you to the punch.

"And you told Tsumu instead of coming to me?"

"Well," you say with just as much snark, totally forgetting the plan to deny, deny, deny, "maybe if you'd picked up on the millions of signals I put out, like he did, we wouldn't be here! I wouldn't be wearing his fuckin' jersey at every home game just to buy his fuckin' silence!"

"So that's why you wear his stupid fuckin' jersey?" Osamu rubs his forehead, hard. "Well, guess what! I've been buyin' his silence for years! I've been cleanin' up his shit and makin' his dinners and bailin' him out for ten years!"

"Wait. You like me?"

You are suddenly acutely aware of the shop's silence, and so is Osamu.

"Should we find him and kill him?" you suggest, looking up somewhat bashfully.

"And then after... we discuss... us?" he adds, tentatively taking one of your hands in his.

It feels so right, the both of you think at once, and neither of you need to say it.

[flwersgarden]

Think about this for a second, singer reader singing a duet with another person BUT it's about romance and it looks like they're singing it to each other, causing the public to think that reader is having an affair with them. Making yandere elvis jealous AF- now think about that one for a minute👀

note: oh dear anon, im thinking about it.... like real hard....... long.... and hard..... sorry it's short (psss, come back tomorrow and i'll update it ;) i promise) 💕

' Y/N Y/L/N HAS TWO LOVERBOYS? '

elvis throws the newspaper to the dinner table, hitting some plates and forks, clenching his jaw as the outline mocks him.

his hands are in his hips, his eyes set in the first page.

he can't fucking believe the audacity you had sometimes.

“ FUCK. ” he screams. grabbing the newspaper before tearing it to pieces while he screams several curse words and incoherence following them, the small picture of you posing for a candid with a dashing smile falls slowly to the ground, on his feet.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

you keep laughing, cleaning your tears as your duet keeps telling his story about how he met one of those amazing directors just to blew it by being dumb.

a harsh knock interrupts.

“ it must be that food. ” mildred whispers, making you chuckle.

you turn to the mirror next to you, checking your makeup as you were about to go out on stage and perform with alex.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️“ y/n. ”

you look at elvis, surprised at the use of your first name, smiling. a big difference to his angry frown.

“ hi, honey. ” you sweetly say, standing up. “ what-? ”

“ come. ” he extends his arm, his hand opened as an invitation. you knew it was an order.

you just nod but before you can walk to him, a hand grabs your wrist.

“ wait. ” alex stands up as well.

you widen your eyes as you gaze at elvis, knowing how he can be when someone touches you; even more if someone touches you to stop you going to him.

“ boy. ” elvis says with a warning tone. “ you better take your hand off my goddamn woman. ”

a silence enters the room and leaves you feeling uncomfortable.

“ alex, please let me go. ”

he does as he's told. you immediately walking to elvis and getting out of the room.

mildred just whistles. “ that's one couple... ” she shakes her head before sitting in the small couch. alex just scoffs.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

you're just following his steps, hardly so.

your feet hurt like hell, thanks to the white heels you were wearing, your white dress flowing through the hallways like a ghost and your hair shining as elvis opens a door and pushes you inside. your hands hold yourself together with the wall, the room seemed to be an empty dressing room. elvis locks the door.

silence again. you hate it.

“ honey? ” you ask with the hope of getting an answer. you get nothing.

“ daddy? ” you try next. elvis' head moves to the side.

“ elvis. ”

you regretted saying his name.

in a swift movement he grabs your neck with his hand, pushing you to the wall.

“ i love you, i treat you right, i buy you things, i give you the attention you want whenever you need it. and that's how you pay me back? ”

you just try to focus your attention in the air that you feel leaving your lungs.

“ by being a fucking- ”

elvis closes his eyes. a moment passes. the only thing that can be heard are your pathetic attempts to breathe.

before you pass out, elvis finally leaves you alone. your hands work as support in the floor, your chest filling itself with oxygen as you cough. tears burn your eyes while you sniff. he has never do this to you. hell, he didn't even raised his voice when you were present. where is this coming from?

“ i won't insult you. ” he says, more to himself than to you.

you can't see it but he has turned his back to you, touching his forehead with two fingers.

“ because i love you too much for that. ”

you feel the air returning to your body, which makes you speak.

“ wh-what? ” your tone lost the sweetness to it, now a harsh almost hoarse tone accompanies your voice.

“ don't play stupid with me. ” he turns to you, pointing a guilty look at you.

“ b-ba-. ” you cough, trying to stand up; failing in doing that so you end up kneeling. “ baby, i don't know- truly. ”

“ i am a fucking singer, do you know that? ” he asks with a sarcastic voice.

he expected an answer. “ y-yes. ” you answer.

“ so? ” he raises his hands, mocking how dumb you looked just answering when you were the one with questions.

“ i-. ”

“ you ask that fucking dickhead to sing with you instead of me? your husband?! ” he screams the last word.

you sob, now your mind connecting the dots. “ i did-n't mean- to-. ” your sobs interrupt you, shaking your head before inhaling and continuing. “ i had no bad intentions, elvis, i swear. ”

you just cry when he grabs your throat again.

“ you must think i'm stupid. ”

you immediately shake your head. “ no! i swea-ar! ” you sob harder at the last sentence, why would he do this to you? what bad thing did you do now?

he squeezes the hold in your throat, making you whimper.

“ i could kill you. so easily. ” he mutters, caressing your lower lip with his thumb. it was trembling. he looks down. “ but i need you here with me. because without you, i would die. i would go insane. ” he just sighs.

he is a sucker for your love.

elvis looks at you and he can't keep his anger grow. the tears in your eyes and the weird voice you had broke his heart.

“ elvis... what are you talking about? ”

he knew how to read you... and you were telling the truth.

“ oh, darling. ” he whispers, kneeling to your side as he hugs you.

you were just crying, the moment of violence elvis displayed made you want to get out of his grasp but at the same time your brain knew you couldn't do it. he was big and tall. how were you supposed to punch him and teach him a lesson?

he raises your face with his hand in your neck. that starstruck gaze you loved now made you shiver in fear.

“ i get jealous, 'das all. ” he still stalks in a whisper. he now seemed afraid of your reaction to him. clearly ignoring your scared gaze and trembling figure besides him. “ you're so precious and anyone could steal you, like a diamond. ”

he chuckles.

“ my diamond. ” he mutters. his lips travel to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses from there to your chin.

“ would you forgive me, baby? i was just a bit jealous- please, understand. ”

you just nod your head, scared that the aggressiveness that he showed earlier would come back.

now the only thing you could think about is how you were going to explain the red marks on your neck and your sore throat.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

as you walk to the stage you try to drink water to help your throat, shaking with fear everytime you remember how your voice sounded in your discussion with elvis.

“ hey. ” alex puts his hand on your shoulder.

immediately you shake it off, the thought of elvis dragging you again to just do the same thing invaded your mind. and you were already pissed at the fact that he ruined this show for you.

alex just frowns, taking a step back as he eyes you suspiciously. “ okay? ” he whispers to himself, making you shake your head. can't everyone just leave you alone for a second?

you try your voice, and again, hoarse and ugly.

catching the attention of your manager, she comes closer, her hand in your lower back. “ hey, is your voice good? ” and at the sound of that, everyone starts asking the same.

you just look at everyone around you, making you feel suffocated. like elvis had you.

“ NO! IT'S NOT FUCKING GOOD! ” you closed your eyes as you screamed, your hands turning into fists.

when you open your eyes, everyone is staring at you.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

your eyes feel annoying when you try to blink, the amount of crying you did didn't help so, as you lied in bed, you just tried to think of something else. something else that wasn't how your career was on pause until your throat was checked and fixed, on how alex now doesn't want to work with you, on how you were being eaten up by the press saying the attack of insanity you had backstage.

elvis was on the bathroom, talking and laughing while you drowned in your sorrow. you were about to lose his career for his stupid jealousy and he was fucking laughing.

but what could you do? besides not paying attention.

he was elvis presley. and now, without your voice, you were nothing.

[rainiishowers]

Hey! Saw ur requests are open so I was wondering.

So in the middle of the night, the demon bros hear a knock on their door, so they open it, to see MC crying. They ask what's wrong and the reason is rlly stupid. Like, "Someone ate my favourite biscuit!" Or smth else rlly dumb.

How would the bros react? (Also gn reader and second person pov, thanks. Also, love ur works! Keep it upand dont stress urself. )

I love these sorts of request and ty for the message <3 I tried to make these more so just not normal reasons for crying, but just wanna say that crying is okay  ---- Lucifer

He was working late as he normally does when he hears knocking, one he soon gathers to be yours

Luci sighs, wondering what would be keeping you up at this time of night, as he went to open it

When he opens the door to you crying, he is equally concerned and confused, as he lets you into his office

“MC.. What happened?”

“I was.. *sniff* Watching a sad movie before bed but it was too sad..”

A sad movie before bed? 

He lets out a long sigh and leads MC to a chair

“I’ll get you some tea and then you can tell me about it.”

Mammon

He was in his room, hanging out with his crows that flew in through the window, before hearing a knock on the door

Mammon goes to open it and is surprised to see you at the door, crying

“MC? What happened?!”

Obviously, he was really worried, as he gently pulls you in and walks you over to the couch, getting some of the crows attention

“I spilled my drink.. *sniff* on my way home from a cafe trip with Satan..”

He blinks once, twice.

Wanting to cheer you up, he sighs.

“Alright, why don’t we have a movie tonight, yea? Ya can pick it out.”

Leviathan

It was the ungodly hours of the day, where Levi was about to fall asleep from playing games all night

He jolts a bit hearing a knock and tells whoever it was to come in

Levi stops for a second, seeing you peek in, crying

You were crying and he wasn’t the best to deal with that, he might get overwhelmed as well.

“M-MC? What are you doing here?”

“I woke up too early and can’t fall asleep, can I stay here?”

He honestly wasn’t sure why you didn’t go to Belphie for something like this, but then again, he probably won’t be too happy if someone woke him up..

“Uhm.. Sure!”

You sat in a comfy pile of blankets and pillows, still sniffing and still having tears fall

He, somewhat frantically, searches for one of his stress toys

Levi finds it and goes to hand it to you

“I’m gonna.. try to sleep, but if you need anything, just tap me on the shoulder.”

Satan

If there was something he didn’t expect to encounter whilst reorganizing his bookshelf, it was you peeking in crying

He was very worried for you, wondering what could possibly make you upset

“What’s wrong, MC?”

“I slept on my textbook and now it’s so crumpled up I can’t read it!”

Whoo boy he felt that

When he was younger, or more specifically when he had less control over his anger, he would constantly crumple up paper to the point they were unreadable

He sighs and nods in understanding

Satan pauses his book organization and gestures for you to sit on his (thankfully clean) bed

While you do so, he picks out a book and goes to you, getting in a comfy position before opening the book to the page it’s marked at

“We haven’t read this one in a while, shall we continue?”

Asmodeus

He was happily humming, putting on some makeup before hearing a knock

Asmo goes to answer it and gasps when he sees you sniffling and crying

Asessing what to do, he leads you inside and on his bed, frowning

“What happened, darling?”

“I checked *sniff* my laundry from last night, and some of the clothes shrunk..”

He gasps once again as you pull out the now way too small shirt.

Asmo hums in thought before getting an idea

He snatches the shirt and goes to the bathroom

Once he comes out, he’s rocking that shirt, doing all sorts of poses

“You wouldn’t mind me taking this shirt, would you, darling?”

Beelzebub

He was lifting weights in his room when he heard a familiar knock

Beel puts the weights down and goes to open the door

He panics a bit, seeing you crying at his door

Leading you in, he asks what’s wrong

“Someone ate my biscuit that I saved!”

A.. biscuit?

Yea uh..

He might have done that..

“Oh.. That might’ve been me..”

He frowns, like a sad puppy

“I’m so sorry! I’ll get you another!”

Belphegor

When he was barely awake one time in the attic, he heard knocking

Belphie groans and lets out a muffled “who’s there?!”

However, when your voice called out saying it was you, he paid a bit more attention

“Come in..”

You walk in, and it took Belphie a second to realize you were crying

Two thoughts entered his mind

“Who do I need to kill?” and “Are you okay?”

He opted to ask the second one as you sat on the edge of the bed

“My favourite blanket is in the wash..”

Belphie sighs, definitely relating to that

He balls up one of his own blankets and gives it to you

“You can borrow that, just bring it back when you’re done”

You nod, getting up to leave before he grabbed your hand and stopped you

“Oh yea, come to the planetarium later, I wanna show you something”

[pinkopalina]

stone being in a bad mood and robotnik noticing and wanting to cheer him up, even if it's hard for him to access any of his sappier, stupid human feelings. so he starts by making some smartass comments about other people being dumb, throwing out puns and insulting them the way stone likes. nudging in a compliment if he can help it; that he really couldn't be upset with the idiots they were surrounded with because truly nobody could help being far stupider than they were. and stone does smile, briefly, but it fades away just as fast, and robotnik has to be like hm 🤔

so robotnik sends him out on a fool's errand (for one, to get him out of the lab for a bit. maybe he just needs some fresh air and to listen to some tunes he likes while driving around? always makes robotnik feel better as he's cussing out blind old farts to go back to their horses and carriages) and stone returns and sees a cup of coffee on his desk made the way he likes it (black! just like lee ;p) and a sticky note with a scribble on it that says "cheer up!!!! D:<" on it. the expression he draws is god awful, exaggerated and quite silly, and anyone else would think it was a warning, but because stone likes his coffee without foam, and the doctor can't draw quite like stone can...

so stone smiles again at the gesture, inspecting the sticky note and tucking it into an inner pocket in his jacket; his eyes soft as he touches the lip of the coffee cup with coffee just the way he likes in it. but he's still in a bad mood so his face quickly goes back to its blank, dead expression before he takes a sip and then robotnik really has to be like hmmm 🧐

so it's getting late and stone is winding down at the end of his shift/the night, because it's easier to just always be around the doctor anyways. he could go home? but he doesn't keep anything important at his apartment anymore, it's all in a room robotnik lets him use, and even the electricity has been turned off for weeks with how often he's stayed over with the doctor. robotnik had made a deal with his complex and paid off his rent in advance for a whole year, just so stone could focus on work. (he claims.) stone is lost in thought when he feels a familiar hand punt against his side and tear him out of it, so he coughs, the doctor standing innocently beside him as if he hadn't just whacked his assistant in the ribs. and then the doctor's like "you only smiled twice today. what's the deal."

stone just kind of looks at him and searches his eyes for a second. he thinks about talking about it, it's not like the doctor can't guess already. but he decides against it and returns his gaze to whatever dumb task he was doing and says "nothing at all, doctor."

"do I look like I'm interested in farming, stone?" he pauses. "because I'm not buying your bullshit."

stone's eyes squint and his lips curl upwards; he can't help but smile. he loves when robotnik makes jokes like that. everything robotnik does makes him smile.

in turn, robotnik smiles widely and brightly in triumph; and he bites his tongue between his teeth, pointing at stone in a wildly victorious pose. "there it is! doesn't evil feel better when you can be happy about it?" robotnik wraps an arm around stone's shoulder without giving him time to react, and he tugs him close, his free hand adjusting stone's lapel between his finger and his thumb. stone is silent as he looks forward, squished against the doctor and his arm, always too afraid to ruin the moment, always blissed out just by existing as part of whatever the doctor throws at him. "y'know maybe the suit's squeezing all the joy out of you. this shirt's a little tight, isn't it?" he pinches and prods at stone, then, somewhere between a jab and a tickle, and stone can't help but bark out a laugh. he didn't mean to ... but robotnik elbows him playfully, smirking as he lamentably lets stone go. "there's my agent. needs a tune-up every now and then to work properly," -- because sure, that's what this is all about, -- "because he's just a feeble little human after all 🙄, but," and robotnik puts his hand on the side of stone's face, catching him off guard for a moment. robotnik's thumb presses up into the corner of his mouth just a little bit, the white of stone's teeth poking out just beneath the softness of his upper lip. "I've determined I like it better when you smile." robotnik lingers for only a second, and stone's heart doesn't have time to thud even once in his chest before the doctor pulls away again and turns to leave. he speaks as he's walking, knowing stone will catch every word. "be in a better mood when you come to work tomorrow. maybe wear something comfortable!" he shrugs in the doorway and then grips the doorframe, looking over his shoulder as he says one last thing. "you need to lighten up. and if it takes casual Fridays for you to do it, then so be it."

the doctor turns and the door shuts before stone can answer, and when stone is sure he won't see, he touches disbelieving fingers to his cheek. and he smiles.

"yes, doctor. of course."

this time it doesn't fade away.

[fizzingwizard]

Because of those last two posts I randomly started thinking about Yugioh... and in particular the Doma arc... about which my opinions haven't changed since I was a teen, even though they were unpopular ones.

Since I'm perpetually long-winded I'll put the tl;dr up here: fans were unreasonbly harsh on Other Yugi during Doma because they were too busy feeling upset about Yugi to appreciate Other Yugi's storyline. But some of that is Doma's fault because while it's way stronger than a lot of filler, it's over-involved and has a rushed ending that fails to express its hero's growth. Also YGO fan culture circa Doma-era majorly sucked lol.

I never hated Doma. It's is my favorite filler arc, and what's great about it because it's filler is that it's not dumb. So much of 90s/2000s filler arcs in anime were just painfully stupid. But YGO, buoyed, I guess, by it's over-reliance on card games, was able to construct a couple filler arcs that weren't mindless nonsense. Not all of them! The KC Grand PRix, for example, is so bad it's unwatchable. But the Noa arc gave us a lot of backstory for the Kaiba brothers and asked some interesting questions about family and love. It doesn't go super deep, and the ending is uh, pretty weird, but also very fitting for sci-fi. It's not my favorite, because despite the ways it's better than most filler it's still got a lot of "stupid filler" features. But I appreciate that it took on something which was going unaddressed by canon (the Kaiba bros and their history) and tried to develop it.

Doma was like that. It took on the fact that Other Yugi is the soul of a pharaoh from ancient Egypt who has no memories of being so, and asked, "What does he actually feel about that?" Because all he does is play card games. Now and then we see him joking around with Yugi, even more rarely the others. But mostly he shows up, plays a cool combo, makes a kingly speech, and then disappears back into the Puzzle. It made sense in the context of the story. He's still fighting the war from the past, and he doesn't want to interfere too much with Yugi's present life. But as a fan, you gotta wonder what Other Yugi felt, discovering he's not actually an aspect of Yugi's personality but an entirely separate person with a past he no longer remembers.

Doma decided to ask that question. Of course it couldn't give us Other Yugi's backstory, since that would happen in canon. But it could address how Other Yugi feels while still not knowing anything. It could look at all the horrible things which have happened which are connected to Other Yugi, and which people (even fans sometimes!!) blame Other Yugi for even when it's not his fault, and ask what impact so much pressure would have on him. It said, "He's stressed. He acts strong, but he's not okay. He's reliant on Yugi for humanity, which means compassion and faith in his own goodness. If Other Yugi is a good person, he must be unable to look at the horrors going on around him and think it's fine. He must be wondering if he himself is evil, for being part of the cause. And a good person who thinks he's evil is bound to reach a breaking point."

I'm not counting the battle with Kaiba at Pegasus's Castle as a canonical breaking point because it's really more about Yugi's strength, and Other Yugi didn't even have a concept of himself having a past outside of Yugi then. That's memorable for totally different reasons. Although he initially tries to sacrifice it for Yugi's sake, in the end Canon Other Yugi follows the course of "destiny" with unfaltering dedication. I suppose the idea is that Other Yugi's convictions about his destiny are just too strong to brook any misgivings like the ones posed in Doma. But I always thought Other Yugi needed real character development, and before Memory World, Doma is pretty much the only thing that gives it to us. So I have to admire it for that.

Here's the tricky part. Doma took on something huge for Other Yugi. It put him in a situation where he had to face his anxieties that he might not have been a good king, that he might be just as bad as Bakura's other self. Where he had to exist on his own and trust in his own goodness sans Yugi's influence. It's a huge undertaking for canon, let alone filler!

I think Doma is right in its take on Other Yugi: that he'd be lost and bereft not because of not having Yugi but because not having Yugi means those weaknesses have nowhere to hide. Other Yugi is struggling, but he always struggles where no one else can see, and presents only strength and confidence in public. But the thing is, fans had never seen that before. The most we saw (if you were watching the Japanese version, btw, the US dub just wrote right over the following lines) was Other Yugi apologizing to Yugi for what he had to go through and wondering briefly whether he was bad for causing it. That happened in Battle City and was quickly forgotten.

We always see Other Yugi the winner. Doma showed us Other Yugi the loser. And fans did not accept him. I know the reason why is because he bartered Yugi's soul for the sake of winning. He thought he was bartering his own soul - a relevant point I feel many fans overlook - but it's still clearly risky, and on top of that, he went as far as to block Yugi from interfering with his duel with Raphael. Other Yugi took a massive risk with a power they knew couldn't be trusted, and he barred Yugi from having a voice while dueling in Yugi's body. It's all round terrible choices on Other Yugi's part.

Which is another part of Doma I love. It didn't give Other Yugi some stupid choice no one could really hate him for. It said we're going to test this guy for everything he's worth and it fucking went for it. That makes it very different from the Noa arc, where the Kaiba bros are unquestionably the stars and heroes.

In themes, Doma and Noa are similar. Both call into question one person's loyalty to another and ask whether their love is real or simply useful. Kaiba, as a sometimes villain, sometimes anti-hero, gets pretty lovely treatment: the fact that he's not a nice guy and puts his brother in dangerous situations all the time barely matters. And also when he loses it's fighting for his brother, and then there's someone (Other Yugi) to step in and win on his behalf. Meanwhile, with Doma, Other Yugi starts out as a hero, so he has much farther to fall. His duel with Raphael isn't for a righteous reason, but a self-serving one. And when he fails, there's no one to help. And he really loses what least deserved to be lost.

The stakes were high and Doma let the hero fail catastrophically. Because Doma understood that the only way characters grow is through failing tests against themselves. Not against business executives. Not against millionaires.

And Doma gave us plenty of explanation for Other Yugi's failure too! It didn't make him a temporary villain who would just go back to being the hero at the end of the filler arc so we'd all say "oh, Doma, yeah that was stupid and doesn't fit anywhere in the story as a whole." Doma told us that Other Yugi is breaking down without anyone knowing, and Raphael and Orichalcos are the final straw. Doma says this was going to happen, and if it hadn't happened, Other Yugi would have been weaker going into his final battle for his destiny. Doma said Other Yugi is traumatized too. And why shouldn't he be, having so much pressure on him all the time, with so little knowledge of himself and so little to distract him in that dank, dark mental labyrinth where he's trapped day in, day out?

This is what I think fans as a whole missed because they were too busy freaking out about "angelic Yugi, poor baby!" Don't get me wrong. Yugi is everything good and Other Yugi did make a horrible choice with Orichalcos. But Other Yugi is suffering from trauma every bit as much as the Kaiba bros. It's an existential trauma as well as a magical one which means it much less relatable, much less visceral. And Yugi is so sweet and kind! It's so easy to forgive the Kaiba bros because they love each other, be upset on poor Yugi's behalf, and completely ignore the intense mental upheaval Other Yugi was going through. It's not that Other Yugi should get blanket forgiveness. But his motives should be understood and his pain should be respected.

He didn't set out to risk Yugi's soul, or the Duel Monsters either for that matter. He meant to risk his own and to prove his mettle as a king by overcoming the Orichalcos's influence. It was stupid because he didn't have any proof that that was a good idea except that Raphael provoked him to try or accept that he was a failure. As a very strategic player, Other Yugi is used to taking calculated risks. But this wasn't that: if he'd been calm, he'd have realized that he couldn't be sure Yugi's soul would be fine and only his own would be lost. And he'd have realized that he had only Raphael's word that a pure soul could overcome Orichalcos to go on. Granted, Raphael seeming in perfect control while using Orichalcos himself probably seemed like pretty good evidence. But it certainly wasn't the only possible explanation and normally Other Yugi would know that. He chooses to play the Orichalcos card clearly under a lot of strain, even pushing Yugi away, which is unprecedented.

What this means is that, afterwards, the reason Other Yugi is suffering isn't just because of losing Yugi. It's also because he's now lost what sense of self he had. He had so little of it going into the Raphael duel, and he wanted to gain more by overcoming Orichalcos. Instead he lost Yugi and he lost his idea of himself as someone who cares about others and can trust his own heart. That's why he wanders. That's why he's so mixed up and and sad and broken for the next several episodes. And it's why, once again, Doma put off fans.

Because fans don't like to feel sad, unless it's in an "aw, poor puppy" way. They don't like to see someone who is strong wrestle with not being so. And words like "arrogant" or "impure" are trigger words in fandoms: apply them to any character even one time and that's all fans will remember about them forever and ever. Other Yugi made an arrogant decision; he acted arrogantly. But arrogance isn't who he is. How can we tell? Because he comes back, he wins and gets back what he lost, and he apologizes. And he doesn't do it again. He does better. The same goes for "impure." What even is purity? Why did fans accept it just because Raphael said it was real and mattered? Raphael provoked Other Yugi's anxieties and then laid a trap for him: he gave him what he most wanted, a duel that would "prove he's a true king," and set him up for an entire mountain of despair to crush him one he fell for it. Even with Yugi, Other Yugi was already in such a state of confusion and fear that it was something others could manipulate. Losing Yugi was heart-breaking, but it wasn't the cause of Other Yugi's troubles: they already existed. I prefer Doma's odyssey of test and riddles to the manga version of Atemu, who blindly does what he's told to do because "destiny," but who is also revealed to be just as much the player as a pawn during Memory Game without any transition.

Now that I've praised Doma up and down, let me wind back and say I also hate it. Because for all it gives us that's great, its execution leaves a lot to be desired. Other Yugi is rather hard to watch when he's so sad and weak for so long. It's especially hard when he's got Jounouchi and Kaiba for comparison, both of whom were put in much more heroic storylines. I find Kaiba's dull, since there's not really much Kaiba is really guilty of there - Amelda's grief was Gozaburo's doing. Jounouchi's is great for him as a masculine hero, but fucking sucks for Mai who is a helpless female caught between two men and sapped of any personal motivation. I love Jounouchi/Mai so I really wanted to like their subplot, but Doma really ruined Mai for the sake of Jounouchi's heroism.

Which makes me wonder if Doma hates Other Yugi. It gave classic hero stories to the others, but beat Other Yugi so hard he was wounded forever in the eyes of some fans. Especially in the aftermath of Doma's first airing, every fic had to make sure to describe Other Yugi's "arrogance" to prove they didn't like him an unreasonable degree. It's one reason I stopped reading YGO fic back then: I couldn't open one that didn't mistreat Other Yugi, often while glorifying Yugi's perfection or going to lengths to sympathize with and justify Kaiba's wrongs.

So are there things Doma should have done to lift Other Yugi up the same way? My overall opinion is not really. I think Other Yugi's Doma arc is clear and fitting right until the final battle. BUT! It fumbled the ending. It fumbled it really bad. The battle with Dartz gets stupid by not doing anything with Yugi and Other Yugi's long-awaited reunion. Not only was the art in that episode unfortuantely awful, but the scene itself is like... seconds. Barely memorable. Yugi hugging his friends is way more satisfying. And the weird bit at the end-end where Other Yugi gets hit by the vortex of anger and grief, I guess, was meant as the final proof that he had overcome all the tests Doma threw at hm. But once again bad art and a "running out of budget" vibe hurt that as well.

Endings are important. You can't rush them. Because Doma fumbled the ending, Other Yugi's victory has much less of an impact. Because it doesn't step back and reflect, but just kind of spouts some cliche phrases, we forget what Other Yugi has really accomplished. Kaiba sacrificing himself to let Other Yugi keep battling is memorable. In fact, Kaiba was much more useful than Other Yugi in most of the final Dartz duel, because Other Yugi had not quite recovered his confidence. After Kaiba's loss, Other Yugi faced real despair again, which should have been awesome but was, by then, kind of like "oh, he's sad again. Will he ever stop being sad?" Yeah, he won. We got cool golden lights and shit and then a miracle. But it's not the same as that victory being felt by fans.

So that's why in the end, I'm always half-and-half on Doma. Because it did what no filler ever dared to do before, I admire it so much. But because it was filler, it also couldn't keep all the subplots in balance, it couldn't do its main characters justice, and most importantly, it didn't stick the landing. For all those reasons, I understand why fans have mixed opinions on Doma. My general sense is that it's disliked but in a weird way where everyone still references it and uses it in their fics - proving how superior Doma is to other filler.

I will always have beef with fans who are unreasonably hard on Other Yugi over Doma, especially when those fans don't bat an eye at things other characters do. I hate that the purpose of Other Yugi's Doma arc flew over so many heads or just went unappreciated. I really felt it was much needed character development. And most of all I hate the impact it had on fandom, which made it so impossible to find Other Yugi-related fan works that didn't either overdo Doma or make sure Other Yugi was everlastingly apologetic about it.

Really, I can't express how nuts the fandom nonsense was - I didn't even want to talk about Doma, because fans were so extremely sure about Other Yugi's arrogance and Yugi's saintliness. Call any of that into question and you'd get attacked. It's been like two decades now though so I should be safe... right? X'D

[zumpietoo]

Oh the Irony....

And perfect timing!!! Cuz I'm SURE you sent similar to the BB with their latest waybackmachinings??? (to say nothing of, WTF do you care what I entitle or post it---tho, I do have nu inspiration--and I posted all kinds of positive Cole stuff just this AM):

Oh and to say nothing of, sure enough, I called EXACTLY what your transparent asses are butthurt about....

Ah yes, we begin with assorted racism, elitism and lookism....umm...she lives an easily drivable distance from NYC AND for all we know Mommeee sent her a ticket (that she grifted for freeeee!!!). Plus who knew A) I was an evvvolll Poor? B) being a Poor was a sin?

At least I know US geography.....even tho Silly is in Georgia, which is also a relatively drivable distance to NYC....so you'd think she'd know that, too....maybe Silly is Amab? She's in 'Bama and was remarkably ignorant about basic US geography....especially since she taught school, in a grade where that would be part of the curriculum.

Ahhh.....I fuckin' knew it! They're pissed that nobody wants to doubledate/be besties with CabanaPee for realsiessss.....

But SweatBoi will react like a pissy little bitch, which, ofc, makes him the awesomest awesome that ever awesomed!!! Perhaps Silly/janASS should look up, "I didn't want to be part of your stupid clubhouse, anywaaayyy!!!"/sour grapes?

Oh yes, bad grammar BB member (Silly foaming at the mouth), PP does indeed gives a MANY shit(s) about everything Cole's doing. BTW, since he and Ari have been together for nearly 3 years, live together and probably will eventually get married....I think it moved past "hooking up" quite some time ago.

That would be Peepster and CB. And FB. And Austyn. And Charli. And whomever she slipped a few extra $$$ to at The Box.

Meanwhile....while Cole HAD already stated he'd be attending many parties for Halloween (versus just one, while beating a very ded, now revealed as fully AN ILLUSION(ary) horse).....considering we had CB yet again cosplaying Cole and PP being with CB entirely because of that....if Cole DID "run away" (no), moar like "from his stalkers".....cuz I most assuredly did NOT notice any "hotties"....

Dude, she posed for group pics with Cabana Pee....maybe she just knows an asshole when she sees one. And to the OG anon----what was that about "almost a month ago"??? You're here still droning on about CB cosplaying Cole the first time. Which is why PP's with him (and the ONLY reason).

MM is ninety billion times prettier than PP, actually a better actress, has been with her BF for way longer, he's a bigger fucking deal than CB could even dream of and she's with him cuz she legit loves him, versus making him pretend to be Walking Tat....

Ummm....it would be two words, "dumb ass", not one....ignorant dullard, however......it's as if FB legit likes Cole better than PP (let alone Sweatboi) even if PP lets him fuck her from time to time.

And not "at", IN....and Fancee Nicola also visited Cole on set, were roomies with him during quaranteen, etc....plus, no, dude....PP doesn't "always support him".....Cole (and MM) were at FB's premiere, Cole made a speshul trip to DC to attend a different premiere of FB's back in 2019.....PP was also in NYC then and didn't bother herself.

And why would he "support PP's nu relationship"? He and PP aren't really friends (they're sidepieces, at best), especially anymoar and CB is a nobody asshole.....and his wife hates PP (and probably Sweatboi)....

However, I do love how y'all are admitting it, even as you attempt to twist it. Plus, again....did the OG anon talk to them about shit in the past?

Why TF would they "feel pity for Cole"? He remains 90 billion times richer and moar famous than all the rest of them combined....

Plus, PP's production company is dick (you really need to stop with that idiocy).....so has Cole (and is legit friends with Alisters), and, again, I don't see PP leading any successful theatricals....she scabbed a student project for her cult for less than scale cuz she needed $$$ that fucking desperately.

Love how they ignore how Cole spent the strike at A list fashion events in all Europe, while PP did a purse party.....and attends other A list events? PP? Does tiktoks with CB's loser friends (who still hate her), now....

And lastly....even if true? Doesn't matter. Cole could easily fade into obscurity and just sit around counting his $$$---PP remains a slutty, dimwitted, talent-free bimbo, up to her eyeballs in debt....and, again, then they wouldn't have tried the sad little threepeat costumey....

[yikesharringrove]

Okay. Dear billy.

Main argument: hoppers storyline is becoming my favorite. Putting himself through all this shit to go back is excellent, and the grittiness and gore of it all has me tickled. I love Steve being a lil dumb dumb as much as the next guy, but does him being Stupid need to be the punchline of every scene he’s in? Last season they gave him figuring out the horse music and the Russians in the mall but he’s gotten dumber every season and I don’t have much hope. Max’s storyline is where the most tension is. I really haven’t seen spoilers so idk if she’ll survive. They love getting us attached and then killing people with no warning so idk. I know hopper is gonna make it home but they really could fuck over max here so it’s sketchy.

THAT SCENE WITH HER RUNNING THROGUH VECNAS MIND WHILE RUNNING UP THAT HILL PLAYS AND THEN IT GOES INTO THE INSTRUMENTAL

Max’s letter to billy is fucking sad especially because we could’ve fucking HAD IT if there were better writers working on this shit.

Thots:

Bubbles is being super annoying in his cage behind my head rn he’s digging his stupid little holes I love him.

Steve’s reaction to Max admitting she’s been having headaches like that’s his bf’s little sister he’s shitting himself.

Steve Harrington will literally grab anything and use it as a weapon. Don’t you carry your bat in the trunk of your car everywhere like you do in fics? You know, because of the trauma-fueled anxiety you have? No?

Nobody ever listens to steve and the way he pissed himself and curled up when he saw Lucas is why

“I COULDVE TAKEN YOU OUT WITH THIS LAMP” darling. everyone knows that is very much Not True. #incompetent

Erica painting her miniatures PLEASE I miss mr clark

“Another week of this and he’s buying me a GOTDAMN Nintendo. With duck hunt.” Erica I love you p l e a s e

Ah, yes. The season-annual stupidification of Steve Harrington. At least last season he figured out that the Russians were in the mall. This season they really said No Thoughts Head Empty.

“If a gate didn’t exist in the fifties, how did he get through?” THATS WHAT IM SAYING. He just lives in the upside down. He pays rent but he wasn’t born there. He’s a gentrifier.

Steve just gave Dustin the bitchiest little look ever and then crossed his legs like they’re made of rope. FRUIT.

Bro where are they??? Is this mikes basement???

“Where’s mine” Steve you are NOT coming with omg he thought he was gonna be able to pose as a psych student he literally can’t pose as someone who is good at reading

Baby boy no

“OMG YOU HAVE A TOM CRUISE POSTER. omg you have a Tom cruise poster.”

“Maybe I could turn on my pap pap pap my charm” STEVEN

Robin going through Nancys shit and Steve doing nothing to stop her the way she rummages through his entire house every time she comes over

“Not the kind of charm we need” Nancy he’s literally gonna seduce the guy. They’ll fuck while you and Robin sneak in. Win-win.

THISE UGLY FUCKING CLOTHES ARE FROM NANCYS CLOSET???? Bro I literally SAID Nancy’s wardrobe is the devil. Did I NOT??

Not hop out here with his BROKEN ANKLE

“Of course not. She saves your life because of friendship.” This fucking GUY

I really forget about mike will and Jonathan when they’re not actively on screen. I think my brain is trying to block out the haircut travesty that is that group.

Argyle is literally The Most he’s amazing

Max: I know that you guys are staring at me

Lucas: what? Sorry?

Steve: Jus hangin out

Dustin: you said you needed something?

These three literally can’t be normal ever

Max: you can look at me now

Dustin: thank you

Lucas: sorry

Steve: sorry

No they CANT ever be normal. What freaks I love them.

MAX WHAT THE FUCK GIRL NOT THESE LETTERS that’s so fucking sad

THEY WERE IN MIKES BASEMENT why Nancy wasn’t even fucking there for most of that ?????

“I swear to god Steve, I will prosecute” VIOLENCE when will this man know peace

Robin freaking out in that outfit like she wasn’t in the ugliest band uniform in the world. Complaining about itchy tight clothes and an uncomfy bra and saying she can’t breathe. Neurodivergent.

Robin monologuing rn she’s incredible

Natalia must have pissed off someone in the hair and makeup department bc this season and last season she spent with hair that looks dry and crispy while also being limp, sweaty, and flat, and makeup that looks like it’s in the process of being cried and also sweat off. It’s rough. She’s so pretty but ouch

“If things go south I should mention I’m a black belt in karate now.”

Stranger things’s hot take is that Russians are just Weird.

JOYCE WINKING BACK AT YURI WHILE ALSO LOOKING LIKE SHE HAS NO IDEA WHAT SHES DOING

Hoppers storyline is so so good

This moment between Susan and max is gonna make me lose my marbles. She’s trying to warn her mom and she’s so scared I’m Freaking Out.

Christ. Should’ve known it was too good to be true.

Robin and Nancy gaslighting the shit out of this creepy fucking guy right now.

NOT THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS DUNGEON. This isn’t Anthony Hopkins :/

ROBIN BUCKLEY HELL YEAH TOTALLY CONFIRMED LAST NAME

OH SHIT YES BODY HORROR YES EYELESS MAN

Alright. Well now I see how they’re going to end up in Utah. Doesn’t mean I don’t fucking hate it.

WILL HAS A LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS POSTER IN HIS ROOM I’m going feral I’m froenchfrounch frothing at the mouth.

I’ve never given a shit enough to ship byler but will CLEARLY has a crush on mike and I’m. Feeling very gay about it.

Oh I CANNOT with this shaky cam right now ffs.

Seasons 3/4 Byers’s house getting fucked up classic

Hopper has a broken ankle and also isn’t wearing SHOES.

Never been so happy to watch a man cry while eating peanut butter off his fingers

The Elvira poster is making me also gay.

Christ alive these people can NEVER get a fucking break.

We’re getting so much Steve’s Beamer content this season lmao

Max just fucking TALK TO LUCAS I’m begging I’m begging

I’m getting a lot of Doom Patrol season 1 from victor’s story I’m pretty hear for it. It’s also giving early Supernatural vibes. Like the Bloody Mary episode where she kills people with fatal secrets.

HE CUT HIS OWN EYES OUT WHAT WHAT WHAT

Love this fucking guy

William Hargrove. Gone but not forgotten ✊😔

Also the way I’m gonna ignore Billy’s canon birthday literally forever.

I do NOT fucking believe neil “couldn’t stand being here without you” no he was fucking missing his gotdamn punching bag you can say it

THIS is the redemption arc the thought billy deserved???? Bitch he deserved so much fucking MORE.

Steve is a nail biter #canon

Also I already saw Dacre’s post so I know he comes back as a flashback but I heard that fucking laugh and I LOST IT

STEVE SAYING “time to giddy up, yeah?” IM CRYING HES SUCH A LOSER OMG THE SHOW PONY OF IT ALL

Vecna Billy stomping out of the mist to fuck with Max meanwhile I’m YELLING

I’m sorry but Dacre is the best actor that’s been on this fucking show and they really just killed him the fuck off

ROBIN MADE THE MUSIC CONNECTION GOOD THING MAX HAS HER WALKMAN AND HER KATE BUSH TAPEim so fucking stressed I’m so fucking stressed

Lol how long do you think dacre was in makeup for just to have thirty seconds on screen.

PICK A SONG FASTER YOU IDIOTS

THE KATE BUSH BEING HER FAVORITE WAS A JOKE I MADE TO THE TV STOP STOP

(No shade I love Kate bush it’s just funny I don’t see max being into her)

Running up that hill really can save lives

Shit. The power of friendship really pulled through for max here

[captainshadowgirllostfan]

Man my heart really goes out for Billy...

I went back to watching Young Sheldon’s recent episode to see Missy and Mandy bond, but wound up appreciating and loving Billy and Sheldon’s friendship instead. I was afraid that it would have Sheldon bashing Billy and being a complete and utter ass as he tends to be when it comes to people with a lower IQ than him.

But instead in his role as teacher, he was patient and even nice to Billy, withholding any smart ass remarks and just working with how Billy thinks and it was fucking amazing to watch, while I was also amused by Billy’s silly remarks and connections he made when it came to math and his own life. That boy is just so silly.

It was a really great episode. The last remark about how Billy finally did pass the 6th grade but stayed in 7th for several years kind of ruined it for me...it implied that Billy never got the help he needed, and the biggest help he got was Sheldon which in some ways might make sense, I mean to me. Both of them seem to be coming from the autism spectrum though Sheldon is obviously from the higher end...what’s more it also showcased that Billy may not be all that dumb at all but rather he think very differently, literally. It’s likely the reason he fails is due to people around him not understanding him. While Sheldon does seem to think Billy is well stupid, he does take everything Billy say seriously whereas many others seem to dismiss everything Billy says. And what do you know, Billy actually outsmarts...in a way...Sheldon in this episode by posing the question of zero’s actual existence. I absolutely loved this show you have no idea!

For a moment, I thought the only reason I’d be watching Young Sheldon would be for the rest of the family, that Sheldon himself had come to be the worst thing about this show.

But this week’s episode proved me wrong. Sheldon truly is the best thing when the writers write him as endearing as he was in S1-3 of Big Bang and at times throughout the show... I think what makes Sheldon shine is when he is interacting with people who different to him and make him see things in different perspectives. This is probably why he was a whatdoyoucallit? Break-out character? 

The main protagonist of Big Bang Theory was Leonard. I will always stand by that, but Sheldon ended up outshining him because of how quirky, odd and unique he was, and how that melded well with the rest of the cast. All of his interactions with the cast had chemistry and were entertaining to say the least because of how unique his personality was and how it clashed and battled, or melded and worked with the others.

That being said, this is probably why his interaction with Billy was the best. Billy is from the other side of the spectrum so seeing two people who are so different and yet alike interact along with the intellectual philosophy melded in was just wonderful. It was also great to see Linkletter and Sturgis being put in along the ride, how they took Sheldon’s word that zero didn’t exist and tried to disprove it only to wound up nauseous realizing he was right. I absolutely loved this episode!

[thequietmanno1]

TheLreads, Vigilantes ch 88, Replies Part 2

1) “Yeah Rappa, we have to preserve the time-space continuum, Knuckles needs to lose a few braincells, and some of restraint, if we want to prevent this timeline from collapsing into a paradox.”- Losing his Quirk helped, but Ironically, I think this chapter implies that Rappa’s talk with him here was motivating Knuckles even during his depressed slump, getting him to go out and seek out a fight to find something worthwhile to do with his time, rather than in actual hopes of finding a lead on the Villain factory.

2) “Don’t worry Rappa, there’s plenty of stupid in his future, rest assured.

It all condensed into a guy-shaped idiot who succeeded him.

Heard he was calling himself O'Clock 2 or some shit like that “- Hey now, let’s not be too rash here. Koichi picked up plenty of dumb habits of his own from Knuckles’ tutelage. 

3) “Knuckles please you weren’t made to play the straightman

but by god am I enjoying seeing you and Rappa bouncing from each other, I wanted a whole series of this “-  In another timeline, perhaps. Maybe if Knuckles’ Quirk hadn’t been stolen, he could have had a hero agency of his own with rappa and Miruko underneath him, complimenting their rash fighting skills with his brains and innate desire for dumb violence.

4) “I can’t lie I am absolutely loving seeing more of rappa and the more I think back, the more I can actually see his personality on the way Knuckles behaved

Hell, even the fucking grin that knuckles always had when he started to have fun was probably Rappa’s influence.”-  Rappa’s even doing Knuckle’s signature little clenched fist pose here, showing the influence he had on him. It could be said that Knuckles is intentionally basing his street janitor role on Rappa now that Knuckles has nothing else left for him but dumb mindless fighting

5) “YEAH QUICK REMINDER THAT MIRKO IS CURRENTLY A STUDENT

A STUDENT OF A HERO COURSE

AND SHE’S HERE ON A ILLEGAL FIGHTING RING, WHICH APPARENTLY ISN’T HER FIRST RODEO

HOW DID SHE NEVER GOT CAUGHT IS BEYOND ME, IT’S NOT LIKE SHE DOESN’T HAVE A RATHER NOTICEABLE QUIRK”- The perks of having showmanship and a good PR team, neither of which were available for Gentle back before he met La Brava.

6) “…

Yeah, you lost me there Mirko

Are you supposed to be a luchador or…?”- Based on a famous recurring one that shows up in various forms across numerous anime/manga, yeah.

7) “WAIT WHAT THE FUCK

WAS THAT

SHE ALREADY GOT CAUGHT

SHE GOT CAUGHT BY THE POLICE AND SHE STILL IS STUDYING TO BE A HERO?

SHE DID ALL THAT AND SHE STILL GOT TO BE A PRO HERO???

HUHHH????? “- She even kicked Ryu’s ass, which is Ironic, as from the sounds of it, she was basically doing the same thing as World Tour in street fighter 6, running around and finding masters to fight against.

8) “am i having a fucking stroke here

SHE EVEN GOT EXPELLED FROM A HERO COURSE”- Middle school actually. She’s presumably on her first hero Course, and is likely the ace of her school, so even if this incident reached their ears, the prestige of having such a future top-class hero graduating from them might have made them reconsider punishing her, given her obvious potential.

9) “Knowing her, she probably meant everyone there at the same time, she can handle you losers without much trouble”-  Miruko’s here for blood, and she’s not picky who from.

10) “Yeah see what I meant?

Also I want to see that rulebook, because I doubt that there’s something written there against it. The show must go on, and is there a better show than the absolute massacre that mirko wants to unleash?”- The rulebook is incredibly thick, but filled with blank pages. Whenever somebody asks to see it, they get hit over the head with it instead.

11) “OH MY GOD I CAN’T BELIEVE ONE OF THE MEMBERS OF THE HORNY BRIGADE GOT A CAMEO ON THE MANGA, Y'ALL REALLY ARE EVERYWHERE”- I mean, Miruko does have enough animal traits to appeal to the furry fandom…

12) “but the scene of Rappa annoying Knuckles and Mirko being scolded by the fighters were both gold, and tipped the balance into the positive end. Damn you Furuhashi, now I need to say this was a great chapter just because of how good those scenes were”- Tons of AU material to be found from this arc, I believe. The adventures of the O’Clock agency would have been amazing to see, had they actually occurred

@thelreads

[the-firebird69]

Watch "The Mist (2007) Trailer #1 | Movieclips Classic Trailers" on YouTube

Tommy f is no experiencing what he was dishing out to our son and he can't stand it for a minute he keeps doing it to him too it's running around like a crazy man in his house trying to launch attacks on her son they keep saying you're a f****** fool and you need stuff and you keep on attacking me and you're a fool to admit it means I'll start watching a tax on you and we say that to him major attacks not like these guys a little like them but you don't survive them none of your assholes do wipe you out all for the stupid f****** snot nose technique so look something says what does that mean it means you're not nose kid jumping up and down saying you're not doing anything issuing stuff just like John remillard I don't care about your father you won't step away like we said you asking for it cruise down your tunnels and toast every single one of them that's what we doing cuz it was stupid response I'm your little baby you don't want to win anything you're a child this is what it's like we don't put up with that s*** this is an adult game you want to sit here and offend me 24 hours a day I'm going to wipe your blood all over the town and then you're dead are you ridiculous that's stupid you doing tons of unnecessary actions on one person who's valuable he's stupid n***** yeah f****** white n***** this guy is doing a better job than you are a f****** posing b**** it's true too your son is a complete abstract failure he's worse than these people his act is kind of like a bozo it's kind of pushed around so it was like his act as you know it all and he's a good cop and he's spewing spewing it people in the wrong way out loud spewing at me flowing is covered on purpose cuz he's an a****** it was outside I don't think he knows about 1 kg he's in love for the fleas. So we started going after him and he knows about him a little and he's an idiot so now he's running around his house like a spaz being a little baby and said we don't care if your baby and you're easier okay John read my Lord the second so we're messing him up and he's going to fall over all day long you have to start hitting him and hitting him what a piece of crap why he turned out to be a little baby so that's what our son says most of that and me responding that's true though he's a little baby I'm going to take advantage of it he's wrong he had the surgery and stuff and he recovered he said and we don't think so but really what a stupid people going to do they tried to do it it failed and it's messing both you up and that's life

He won't fix it he knows it's wrong and he's too scared to he says this I don't think there's much memory up there and he knows it you can't find it use the original one cuz the assholes contaminated it. And you know something else it's horrible. Now they're both having this experience and it's not working for him no excuse for what Tommy f is doing this guy is vulgar and he's rude and he's crass is making huge huge enemies too out of everybody he just comes down on his son all the time it's like you're bothering me for stuff that other people are doing what are you saying you don't know who and what I am or what I can do at all you're the most clueless f*** on Earth who has most of the stuff he started saying this I don't care what you got or where you going like these bigger they just saying how the hell am I supposed to respect you you're not going to get stolen from like everybody else and you stopped and it froze and said oh so he explained it in that term a whole bunch of times what are you doing cuz your mouth is still open about us and at him it's just like John remillard he's going to give it up to say stupid things so I'm sending out orders while we're talking them seeing out tons of orders and it's the same thing we say everyday almost but we mean it but boy is it annoying that guy is massively annoying and a huge fact and stupid and demented and evil but wow is he dumb so everyone has this plan and we're standing like mad and we're taking all the stuff out and we have to grab the tunnels in the ocean we have to grab the shadow now we're forced to and it's not their fault it's your fault Tommy if for screaming your plan screaming at me bothering me 24 hours a day like a little baby so her son said that to him and he flipped out and said now you're like a little baby you wouldn't stop talking haven't you seen any movies that people say these are real I mean two or three movies at least and then you have people with pictures and DNA haven't you seen any of that stuff at all any just like one picture are you like this girl in the street who was born like last two months and grew up real fast on stem cells and he says cursing and then he says well this is what it seems like so you're sitting here challenging me a hundred times a minute not like five and it's you this huge f****** attitude a massive ego problem a giant mouth let me tell you if you lose down below in space your whole race and you're all kind of screwed over yelling and screaming at one inventor who the f*** are you to do that aren't you sit down shut up for 2 minutes.

Well he got up all day and yell then he sat down and said don't do it it's okay John remillard is a spaz just like John rim award you know that's where John Lord's frontal lobe went.

We know it's true too

Thor Freya

[zawazawanightmares]

Viola & Sonic The Hedgehog

You, Viola (Pokemon X & Y), are connected to Sonic The Hedgehog Your partner doesn't mind all ages or 18+ roleplay Your partner has a starter. Type /starter or tap here to see it.

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): /starter

Sonic The Hedgehog: (using Nowykowski's sonic design because world cold and hard but curvy hedgie soft and warm. here u go. https://imgur.com/a/iYOdBB4 )

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): Wow...what kind of Pokemon are you? *gasps* Are you a Shiny Sandrill?!

Sonic The Hedgehog: "A what? I'm a hedgehog. Pretty obvious."

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "...What's that?" She looked at him in confusion.

Sonic The Hedgehog: Sonic narrows his gaze, setting his hands on his hips. "Great. Another dumb blonde..."

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "Hey! Just because you're bipedal, talking and sapient doesn't mean you're not a Pokemon! MewTwo ring a bell?"

Sonic The Hedgehog: "It doesn't." Sonic holds his chin in thought. "Ah. I see what it is. Must've accidentally crossed dimensions while I was on my daily jog. Oops..."

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "Heh. Who's the dumb blond now?" She put her hands on her hips and posed smugly before thinking. "I mean, not you because you're blue but...you look stupid is what I'm getting at."

Sonic The Hedgehog: He grimaced, sizing the girl up some. "Your forehead is huge..."

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "So's your butt. Not sure how that counts as a comeback but live with it!" She frowned at him.

Sonic The Hedgehog: Sonic snorts. "Really??" He bursts into a fit of laughter, giving his own behind a small slap. "Not disagreeing, though..."

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "You're freakishly hot for a Pokemon or hedgehog or whatever you are...mind if I take pictures?" She took out a camera.

Sonic The Hedgehog: "Weirdo." Sonic was eating up the compliments regardless. "I might let ya. But what's in it for me?" Maybe he could have a little fun in this dimension before returning to his own.

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "Well, I can pay you, give you some battle tips, rim ya or...I'll give you a Charged TM!" She took out the TM in question. "Huh? Huh?"

Sonic The Hedgehog: Sonic quirked a brow, glancing down at the scroll in her hands. "What the hell is that?" He didn't need money, or tips. He was already pretty strong. The rimming? Sounded tempting. She wasn't all that hard to look at. "How about just takin' me out for some grub?"

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "This will evolve your bug-type Pokemon...but sure, I can get you food!"

Sonic The Hedgehog: "Sweet." Sonic licks his lips, removing his jacket and tossing it somewhere on the grass. "Uh, we doin' it here, orrr?" He hikes his shorts up.

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "Foot traffic has died down so sure!" She readied her camera. "Pick a favorite pose."

Sonic The Hedgehog: Easy enough! He was a bit of a narcissist. Back at home, he would never deny a photoshoot from paparazzi. He was Mobius' beloved, beautiful hero. The hedgehog does his classic 'Sonic' pose, waving his finger haughtily at the camera. Innocent enough.

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "Nice! Really rebellious! I love the "attitude" energy. How about one where you look impatient and you're tapping your foot?"

Sonic The Hedgehog: "You got it!" Sonic was loving the attention, pouting at the camera, hands on his hips whilst his sneaker taps the ground.

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "Awesome! The time is running out and if you wait ten minutes for the trainer to get their shit together, you can die! Now, how about something a bit more provocative...?"

Sonic The Hedgehog: "Weirdo," Sonic deadpans again. Still, he doesn't seem to mind the suggestion, getting down on his hands and knees and arching his back in a feline-like fashion. He waves his ass in the air a bit, licking his lips. "Mmh.. Like this?"

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "Jut your butt out a bit more...that's good. You must like to run a lot..." She snapped a few pics of him in the pose before zooming in and taking pictures of his ass.

Sonic The Hedgehog: "I'm the fastest thing alive," he responds, his tail wagging slightly. The tight running shorts hug his waist and ass just right. Sonic then moves into a new pose, this time, legs spread, sticking his tongue out playfully.

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "Oh, you must drive the other hedgehogs wild with legs like that...I am totally feeling like an echidna right now!" She exclaimed, snapping more pictures.

Sonic The Hedgehog: How did she know what an echidna was? Sonic's confusion is overridden by his desire to receive more attention. He repositions himself, thighs and ass lifting towards the camera. The fabric of his shorts clung to an obvious mound in his crotch.

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "Now what is that...?" She zoomed in on the mound conspicuously. "A hidden treat?"

Sonic The Hedgehog: Sonic reaches in between himself, sliding a finger in between the clothed slit. "Oh, my pussy? What were you expecting?"

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "Oh wow...how does it taste, handsome?" She licked her lips.

Sonic The Hedgehog: Sonic grins. "You wanna find out?" He hummed, swaying his ass around teasingly.

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "That...and a couple of more things." She set her camera aside and crawled towards him.

Sonic The Hedgehog: Sonic bites his lower lip. "Like what?" He lowers his hips, turning to face her. "You weirdo..." He reaches out, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger.

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): She smiled at him as she pulled down his shorts to free his pussy, leaning forward to press her nose to it. "Yup...you differently smell like you ran here..."

Sonic The Hedgehog: Sonic's shorts slide off with ease, revealing his cunt, already glistening with nectar and heavy with his musk. He moans softly, tugging her head closer, spreading his legs further. "Mm... You're gross," he teased.

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "Whatever~!" She cheerfully brushed the insult off as she dragged her tongue through his folds, lapping up his nectar before sucking on his clit.

Sonic The Hedgehog: Sonic grinds his crotch against her face in response, gasping. "Oh, fuck..." He tilts his head back some. "Yeah..."

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): Keeping at it for several minutes, she suddenly lifted up his legs to get better access to his cheeks, dragging her tongue across that hole before darting her tongue in there.

Sonic The Hedgehog: Sonic shivers with anticipation, a wobbly smile forming on his face as she buries herself into his ass. "Oh fuck yes," he moans out. "You dirty bitch..." he giggles.

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): She swirled her tongue in there, enjoying how the hedgehog shivered before removing her tongue. "And you're a naughty hedgehog..." She mocked as she pulled down her sweatpants, pressing her wet pussy against Sonic's.

Sonic The Hedgehog: Sonic sighs softly, resting a hand on one of her thighs as their pussies smush together. "A little," he replies, grinding up against her cunt. "Mm.. Let me see your tits," he demands shamelessly.

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "Now who's the weirdo?" She teased, sticking her tongue out as she starting grinding her pussy against his. Whoa, they were pretty big for the profession she was in... "You like?"

Sonic The Hedgehog: The azure hedgehog ogles the soft mounds, reaching out to grab one, giving it a squeeze. "Hmm.. cute," he purred.

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "Just like you!" She began to grind faster, rubbing their clits together as her nipples hardened in between his fingers.

Sonic The Hedgehog: Sonic pinches one of her nipples, raising his hips to collect more of that delicious friction. Their juices are making quite the mess... Not that Sonic minded. "Aww.." He grins. "Mm... Yeah, just like that," he whimpered. "Fuck me.."

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): "I'll fuck you...like I...fucked...Alexa!" She bragged as came against him, letting out a sultry groan.

Sonic The Hedgehog: Sonic rolls his hips, reaching his climax no later than she did, his pussy gushing messily. "Holy shit..!" he gasps, throwing his head back, trembling. "Fuck yes!!"

Viola (Pokemon X & Y): Viola fell to his side and sigh happily. "So...you like chili dogs?"

Sonic The Hedgehog: The blue hedgehog pants softly as he comes down from his high, looking over in her direction. "I love chili dogs..."

You left the chat

[tssidesfics]

TSSides Anti-Fairytale AU

I’m not coming for fairytales. They have their place, but as an aromantic person...I do not feel seen. And then I decided to re-watch Enchanted (pirated, of course, because fuck Disney). And then this idea happened. 

Patton was a child-king who married his best friend when forced to, and then she died in childbirth. He’s given Roman everything he could, but he’s lived his life dictated by the advisors who’ve used him as a puppet king his whole rule. He’s miserable because he doesn’t like how the system functions but he thinks he’s chained to tradition.

Roman copes with his complicated relationship with his father by questing and almost dying, like, every other week. Anxious attachment for days. Boy keeps trying very hard to find a princess and can’t seem to figure out why nothing will stick. To which Patton goes “oh. He got it from me. Oops.”

All I know is Remus is aromantic and aplatonic and exactly as chaotic as he should be.

Roman’s birthday. Ball. The classic. He greets all the noble families and he’s seen those losers a bunch before, but this time, he meets a new “girl” with a family he usually hates who intrigues him. He is not a girl and I will not be misgendering him because ew, but, gist: Virgil, transphobic rich parents forcing him to conform to gender roles, absolutely miserable, in Peak Bitch (gender-neutral) form. Roman mistakenly believes he’s cured and talks Virgil up a lot. Convinces himself he’s fallen madly in love.

Problem is, he tells Patton, who’s shocked he found a “girl” but absolutely is on-board, and then goes to the family to ask for Virgil’s hand and there’s no Virgil.

Thus begins the Mulan ripoff but openly trans where Virgil poses as a boy servant at the castle because his parents can’t get into the castle willy-nilly and it’s the safest place to be. Absolutely loathes Roman’s very existence because that dumb bitch flirted with him while he was a girl and therefore VIrgil thinks he is The WorstTM. Then Roman catches him grouching about and decides to solve this by teaching him sword-play, mostly to give him the excuse to beat on a dummy with a sword-shaped stick. 

Meanwhile Roman is just le sigh I did it again. I connected more with a boy than a girl. Why did she have to run away? Now I’m doomed to be weird.

Well then assassins break into the castle and Ever-Paranoid Virgil immediately susses them out as bad news and uses the remnants of the ball to absolutely wreck them when they try to kill Roman and his father while they’re taking a rare opportunity to chat and bond. Patton decides he is Adopting This Child, fuck you, advisors, he’s as thin as a stick, and Virgil now gets to eat with the royal family. 

It’s the first time Patton has ever actually told his advisors to go fuck themselves. It’s the first step toward a positive turnaround and it happened because Patton’s dad instincts took over and nothing in the world is more valid than that, fight me.

Enter genderqueer icon morally neutral witch, Janus, all pronouns, who’s trying to topple the monarchy to enact lasting change and didn’t want to dirty her hands right away, but honestly people are so unreliable. So he gets onto Patton’s crew as a handmaiden and excuse you who gave the king permission to be actually endearing?

Roman feels slightly weird because Patton’s calling Virgil “kiddo” and he’s not calling him his son but he also treats him very similarly as he does to Roman and Remus, which isn’t great but is significantly better than it could be, but Roman’s got a crush. 

Then Janus finds out Virgil’s trans and reveals this. Virgil thinks he’s about to get blackmailed into murdering the only people who have ever cared about him and then Janus just rolls their eyes like “excuse you I’m evil not psychopathic. I can give you a potion to make your body reflect your mind. You in?”

“Great, so my only cure to stop feeling like frozen trash reheated in a forest fire is to accept the highly dangerous bribe of a definitely evil witch! Thanks! I hate it!”

Yes Virgil memes even in a fantasy world where Tumblr doesn’t exist.

Also Virgil and Roman are bonding. A lot. They’re getting very close and Virgil even lets slip that he loves Roman and then tries to fling himself out a window. Roman gets touched, stops him, and tries to kiss him, but Virgil leans away. Roman expresses confusion.

“I...I love you, but I don’t want to kiss you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either. But I’ve...never wanted to kiss anyone. For any reason.”

“But...you still love me?”

“I do. I’m sorry.”

Roman...doesn’t feel as rejected as he thinks he maybe should? Honestly, it’s not totally a relief, but it’s just kinda...neutral. It’s not even a disappointment. 

Well, Janus is not evil and actually wants to run a kingdom (instating a committee mixed of educated rich fucks and working class receiving education) a whole lot more than Patton, who thinks she’s just...kinda awesome and very misunderstood. There’s a lot of hissing and grumbling that they’re not misunderstood, they’re evil, they don’t even have a tragic backstory, they just kill people to enact the change they want to see, just because they got ditched in a forest as a baby and was raised by a magic snake means nothing. The snake was a very loving and supportive parent.

Roman talks to Patton and Patton is like “fuck marriage rules. Fuck heteronormativity. Fuck my advisors. My kingdom is a haven for the gays. All the gays. Of every color. Come here and be merry and queer.”

Virgil’s just like “yo no reason but in this new world where it’s okay to love whatever gender is it maybe cool to be a boy when the world says you’re a girl?”

Janus draws a knife and glares at Patton and Patton’s just like “even if my partner wasn’t threatening to kill me I’d say it was fine why?”

“No reason.”

“Virgil.”

“What?”

“Is there something you want to share?”

“No.”

“Is there something you need to share?”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re being defensive again, Storm Grouch.”

Virgil sticks his tongue out. “Fine. People used to think I was a girl and I have a stupid body. Happy?”

And Patton learns from Janus the fine art of Validating The Fuck Out Of Gender.

The advisors stage a coop and lock Janus in an anti-magic cage, and then at the same time Virgil’s biological nightmares track him down and steal a spelled green apple from Janus’ shop they give Virgil. You know the drill. Deep sleep like death, yadda yadda.

Well, they immediately claim the body making a big dramatic deal about how they have to bury “her” and they’ll take “her” home to see her off and it’s so tragic, just as they were reunited, when the reality is they have the antidote back home, they’re just looking for control over his life again.

Except Roman goes off. “He is staying here where he--where he will be buried under the name Virgil dressed properly and if you came anywhere near his body I’ll kill you myself.”

Guess what constitutes a totally platonic, non-kiss related act of queerplatonic true love, bitch? Fighting your transphobic partner’s parents over their dead body.

Kingdom’s retaken, sweeping reform while Patton retires to be a stay at home dad to fix his relationship with his kids. Virgil gets formerly adopted. The stepparent is actually a morally neutral genderqueer witch who runs the kingdom fairly and justly, the central love story is trans and aromantic, and my queer ass is something resembling happy.

Logan is probably one of the advisors and the only one with sense who probably starts knocking off his coworkers after the coop because they’re all deeply, deeply stupid. Remus probably spends half the story making friends with a troll he brings in to save the day in the third act.

[jangofctts]

Are You in Or Out?

Rated: Explicit 

Word count: 11.5K yall I am SORRY

Warnings: good lord y'all here we GO-- smut, explicit language, violence and mentions of blood and gore, injuries, unprotected sex (don't be a dick, wrap that stick!), oral (m&f receiving), blindfolding, vaginal and anal fingering, vaginal and anal sex, double penetration, spit is used as lube but for the love of GOD doNT DO THAT, there are some dom vibes on Paz’s end    

Summary: The job you’re on takes a turn for the worst--Paz comes to your rescue and you're brought to the Covert. There you meet Din Djarin. though during a good natured sparring session, you’re suddenly stuck between an age old rivalry that spirals out of hand. Hopefully an agreement can be met. 

a/n: hey...how y’all doin....SO lemme explain you smthn. I said helmets must be OfF--giv me them LIPS BABEY so this is a slight AU in which mandos can see other mandos’ faces. ya get me? I also tHot that it would be nice and fun to set the timeline 5-6 years BEFORE the plot of the Mandalorian so we gots a younger din here. anyway, as always enjoy and I hope you like!!

Mistakes, mistakes, mistakes—

Some as little as burning your finger on the nozzle of a smoking blaster or tripping over your own shoelaces. Simple things. Mindless things. 

Nothing that could ever compare to the catastrophic decision of picking up bounty hunting as a reliable source of income. 

The little ones were easy—tax evaders and deserters of the Empire—most who’d yield and gladly follow without complaint just at the sight of your blaster pointed between their eyes. And the gag of it is—most of the time you never bothered to load the damn thing. 

Reckless.

An invitation for disaster. 

But skirting that precarious edge, one little slip up away from plunging head first into inevitable trouble is better than Bracca. Stars—anything is better than Bracca. There’s no glory in bounty hunting but there’s even less in ship scrapping. Abysmal pay in exchange for risking your life on rain slicked metal with only the Ibdis Maw to break your fall.  

The guild you work for is considerate—scratch that. Greef Karga is considerate. Sure the flirting is a touch unbearable but it saves your ass in the long run. All easy money bounties set aside for you in exchange for a cheap drink, hollow laughs and sugar sweet smiles. 

It’s enough credits to get by—more than plenty to rent a room and charter a ship. 

But there’s only so many bounties to capture within the limits of the guild and oh so many people the empty blaster trick works on. And so the credits begin to thin; it gets too expensive to buy off a pilot and the debate over buying food or being able to pay for your room becomes more frequent than the scraprats that skitter inside the walls.  

It’s suicide to snag a higher paying bounty because....well—these bounties shoot back. 

Whatever.

 Might as well die trying. Who knows, maybe you could score big time if you manage to pull this off. 

Maybe. 

                                                       -=-=-=-

You’re not sure who’s more surprised—Karga when you asked for the bounty or yourself when he actually gave it to you. 

“Are you sure, kid? This could—“

“End in a fiery shitshow? Yeah—I figured that,” you sigh, swirling your drink with a little complimentary toothpick. “But I need the money.” 

“Hah! You’ve got guts, girl.” He flashes you a smile and smooths down his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. “Tell you what. The last assignment was just taken but I’m sure if you run you could catch him. Work somethin’ out.”

Jumping from your seat, you throw on your coat and toss a couple credits onto the table to cover the drink. “What’s he look like?” 

“Big fellow—Mandalorian. You’ll know when you see him.”

You shout your thanks over your shoulder and hightail outta there. The landing docks aren’t far, you can see them from here. It’s finding the guy that could pose a problem.

If he hasn’t already left, you bitterly think. 

However, it seems the universe is on your side today. Karga was right. He is big. Stands out like a sore thumb against his ship that glitters dully in the overcast sky. Kinda like an oversized blueberry. A yellow and blue blueberry….not important—

“Hey! Hey, you!” You’re so close, just a couple yards away. You swear and hurry up your pace as he steps onto the loading ramp. “Big guy! Large...blue man?”

You trip over your own feet as he turns his head. Fuck—

No way are you gonna be able to bargain with this guy. Built like a fucking AT-AT and probably just as stubborn. After all, no one would ever be dumb enough to come between a Mandalorian and their quarry. You grimace, and suck in a breath—

Before a word even leaves your mouth he interrupts with a steady, unwavering;

“No.”

Your brows furrow. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“I know what you were going to ask,” he huffs, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I work alone.”

Ok, then. You didn’t want to resort to begging, but you’re kinda running out of options here. You take a steadying breath and plant yourself at the bottom of the ramp. “C’mon man. Look—I’ll let you take seventy percent of the cut and I can—“

“You’ll let me?” He repeats, the staticky tone of his voice dropping into an edge more cutting than broken transparisteel. The metal platting on the ramp vibrates from the weight of his step to move closer; Stars it takes every fucking inch of willpower to hold your ground. “You’re lucky if I let you leave with your life. Get lost.” 

Fuckfuckfuck—you should listen. You wanna fucking run for the hills and never look back in case he comes looking to purge your name from the kriffing galaxy. You clench your jaw and steel your nerves. Too bad—you’ve dug your heels so far into this empire of dirt and false bravado that your only way out is continuing to poke the sleeping bear until he snaps your spine or caves.

You have to crane your neck to glare into that dark strip of his vizor, seeing as he’s invited himself into your personal space. “No.”  

“No?” He mocks, now toe to toe with your scuffed up boots. 

Your teeth clench, a scalding flush burning through your cheeks and all the way down to your chest. He’s toying with you—finding amusement in your stubbornness and apparent lack of braincells for challenging him. “You don’t scare me.” 

The man hums, a deep purr that rumbles through his entire ribcage as he raises his gloved hand. You curse yourself for flinching because surely he’s about to crush your skull like a fucking grape, but no. All he does is fix your rumbled collar then pat your cheek.     

“I don’t need the extra baggage.”

“I’m not baggage,” you sneer, slapping his hand away. “I can handle myself.” 

“With an empty blaster?” He points out, tipping his head to the side. “Your parlor tricks won’t do you any good on this job.”

“I’m a good shot!” You sputter, placing your hands over you hips and mustering up your best glare. “W-when I have ammo…” 

“Right.”

Meeting Paz Vizsla, could have gone far better, to put it into the most simplest of words. Jagged and hard to settle into a routine around each other for the journey to Nar Shaddaa in a tiny, old, and cramped freighter ship. Most cycles you have to wedge yourself beside a cargo crate to sleep. In addition to that, how it’s able to break through the atmosphere let alone fly is beyond you—an entire mystery on its own.       

At least you’re able to sit in the spare seat inside the cockpit—one of the only places available to stretch your legs. The only problem is that it’s also where Paz Vizsla likes to lurk (well, not lurk—it’s his ship and it’s where he can comfortably fit but—to each their own). 

There’s a net of tension still woven between you—each interaction like tiptoeing over eggshells. Though, like all things, it becomes simpler. There’s not exactly any ongoing conversations—you don’t want to pry into a life you know nothing about—it’s not your business despite the cumulation of questions that linger in the back of your mind. You know when to take a hint—not every person is willing to indulge you about their livelihood, and surely not something as secretive and well guarded as the Mandalore.  

Familiarity is what you want to call it. Comfortable with each other’s presence with small talk speckled in throughout the never-ending vastness of hyperspace. Compared to the infinite turmoil in your life, slippery footholds and uncertainty—Paz Vizsla is steady. In a way— predictable and safe in the confines of this ship.       

You’d even go as far as to label him kind, a friend maybe—if you look past the grumpiness and rather poor taste in corny jokes. You know it’s stupid, no doubt stemming from the deep ache of loneliness that comes hand in hand with staking it out on your own in the galaxy; but you can’t help but wish that this could be a new normal. Not some once in a lifetime thing where you both part ways, fade into the recesses of memory and leave it at that. 

If things go well—and rarely do they on a job—maybe you’d pluck up enough courage to ask him if you could stay. There’s no harm in it…right?

                                                 -=-=-=-

Well—the cynical part of you was right.

It did end up in a fiery shit show. 

Turns out the stupid quarry you’d been tracking excelled in long range weaponry. A former marksman for the Empire to be exact. Guess that tidbit of information wasn’t pertinent. A need to know sorta thing, if you will. 

You feel the molten bolt of plasma connect with your side before your ears pick up the sound of a weapon firing, like a crack of lighting in the empty alleyway. And before your body even connects with the duracrete, Paz is returning fire. A brilliant neon red against the hazy blur of shadowy buildings.  

Kinda weird how knocking the back of your head hurts worse than the literal blaster wound burned into your side. Shock maybe. Or the heat from the plasma cauterized each veins and artery it tore through and ate away at flesh and nerves. Hm…          

You’re sprawled in a wet pool of something—either your own blood or a puddle of stagnant gutter water and damn—you’re wearing your favorite shirt.

It doesn’t matter at this point…

You’re choking on your own air from the big ass hole blasted into your diaphragm, so to say things are looking grim is an understatement.  

Nar Shaddaa isn’t your first choice to kick the can on, but hey—not everyone gets the luxury of dying on Naboo. And just as you’re ready to slip away into that sweet, sweet abyss, it seems your fellow armored friend has other plans. 

The beskar is freezing against your cheek after he deadlifts you off the duracrete—you remember that plain as day. That and the hushed rumble of Paz’s voice insisting you save your dwindling supply of air instead of apologizing to him—or ordering you to stay alive for kriff’s sake. It’s impossible to argue with Paz—like trying to bite through durasteel, and while those beckoning tendrils of eternal slumber are mighty tempting, you cling to your life with all the strength you have left. After all, inconveniencing someone with a corpse is such a party foul to the highest degree.    

The rest is muddled—like dredging up silt and clay in a murky river that just leaves you with a pounding headache between your eyes. It’s a terrible mess of pain and bouts of temporary consciousness, mistaken with fever dreams and yup—more pain. The only consistent is Paz—hovering nearby or settled beside you—through thick and thin as you heal. 

There’s no solid reason your brain can conjure as to why he brought you to the Covert—it’d have been easier to just dump you at the nearest hospital and be done with it. You’re not his responsibility and you’re too afraid to ask what it means. Too many possibilities—too many answers you aren’t in the mood to face or untwist.     

And so you leave it be, set aside for another time—which brings you to the present day…        

You’re splayed over your little makeshift cot, feet propped up on a spare pillow as you scour through a cheesy Coruscanti gossip magazine. It’s years old—the only piece of entertainment you could find other than a weapon in the Covert. And seeing as a massive hole had been blasted through your ribcage, picking up the clever art of throwing vibroblades or shooting targets to pass the time was out of the question.   

Even if you’d rather fall into a Sarlaac pit than stare at the wall for hours on end yet again—it hasn’t been all that bad. It’d taken weeks before you regained enough strength to sit up on your own, let alone walk—and walking is putting it lightly. It was more of a stiff legged shuffle better suited on a two hundred year old woman seconds from disintegrating into dust at the mere hint of a breeze.  

Not to mention—your right lung was all but shredded. Ripped apart from the plasma bolt and miraculously reconstructed by a more than questionable bacta tank, hopeful thoughts and well wishes. To this very day you still sound like a broken air filter. 

Eh.    

Could be worse. 

At least you aren’t dead. 

Just another setback that adds on the growing pile of reasons why never to leave the Covert. Free food, free board and mild entertainment to top it off. Paz had stayed at your bedside for the most part while you recovered—stuck with babysitting your sorry ass until you regained a bit of mobility. The times Paz hadn’t been at your side to stave off the boredom, it was up to you to find your own fun. 

Snooping is what Paz had labeled it—but you saw it more as an adventure. You met Din Djarin exploring (lost is what you actually were) in the dimly lit underbelly of Nevarro, after all. Yes, you may have scared the ever loving shit out of the poor guy and yes, he may have singed off your brows with a five foot jet of fucking fire—but hey. No one got hurt.        

And you made a new friend. Sorta…Din is difficult to read, subtler in his soft spoken words and quiet demeanor. A bit like a skittish loth-cat at the start, but nowadays it’s not uncommon to find him lounging in the same space as you or hovering over your shoulder, awfully curious in whatever it is you choose to do. Like Paz, Din isn’t overly fond of sharing much information about himself but he never complains after you regale tales of your own vastly fascinating past. He seems interested enough—tilts his head a tick to the right when you speak to indicate that yes, he’s listening despite the unforgiving dark line of his visor.      

There are others in the Covert too—some so elusive you have a hard time believing they exist. Shadows of what they once were before the rise of the Empire. And so, you count yourself lucky that you’d been introduced to two others—Aeris Fenn, a young man nearly as tall as a Wookie, and a woman named Ives Arrey; her armor a flashy green—damn near florescent in the light. 

They’re nice enough company. Aeris is a chatterbox, his wit sharper than a blade but lacking in any forethought before he speaks. Ives is the far opposite—rolls each sentence in her mouth before she voices it, but in no way is she angelic. Maker—you’d bet your entire left asscheek she’s behind each bad decision and silly shenanigans Aeris sticks his nose into. He never learns—not after a harsh chiding or cuff around the helmet from Paz or the Armorer could dampen is childlike enthusiasm or steer him away from repeating the same mistake over and over.  

Though if you read one more kriffing sentence of this garbage magazine you’re about to invite chaos himself to entertain you. Good thing too because just as you sit up to find the red armored Mandalorian—Paz rounds the corner and steps into your little broom closet that hardly passes for a room. 

“Paz!” You greet, tossing the magazine over your shoulder. “Please tell me we’ll be doing something interesting or else I might start ripping my hair out. Or maybe commit a heinous crime—haven't decided yet.”      

Paz grunts and shakes his head. “You’ll be doing neither. But today we’ll be sparing—hopefully that will curve your boredom.”

You scrunch up your face. “Sparring? Er, no thanks—I choose life.” 

“You breathe funny since your injury,” he says, jabbing a finger between your ribs. “And all you’ve been doing lately is laying around.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you sneer, tucking your arms over your chest. “Didn’t realize I was supposed to be running laps with half a lung.”

“It’s like stretching a muscle, you need to gain your strength back.” He retorts. “This will be good for you.” 

You groan and flop back into bed. “I don’t wanna. I was pretty much dead like three cycles ago—cut me some slack, man.”

There’s a brief silence as if he’s mulling over your words, but he’s stubborn. You crane your head to look at him as he says your name with a deep sigh attached to it.   

“Truthfully, I’m surprised you’ve survived this long.” He says it quietly, fragile even, like he’s still expecting you to tip over and die on the spot. You very well might.  

You huff. “Wow. Thanks, Paz.” 

You feel his heavy stare through the helmet. “What happened to you that night was a mistake. It wasn’t preventable but the least I can do is teach you basic selfdefense.”  

You gripe out your complaints but you know you’ve been beat—and well, a bit of your agreement is based on guilt. 

Damn it.  

                                                     -=-=-=-

It’s weird to see Paz without his heavy duty gear—like seeing him naked or a crab without a shell. The only piece he continues to wear is his helmet and padded gloves and under clothes, but it’s still weird. Strange enough that it shocks you tongue into remaining still instead of bitching about this. 

He leads you to a wing of the Covert you’ve yet to discover and ushers you through the doorway. The floor is padded, a bit smaller than you expected and already occupied by none other than Aeris Fenn. 

It’s a whole other kriffing shock to the head seeing him without the plates and layers of fabric and beskar too. The armor makes him bulkier—fuller and much more intimidating. Now, with only his black underclothes on, Aeris could be the spitting image of a sentient tree. Willowy limbs that stick out like branches as he stretches on the padded mat. He lazily swings his head around as you greet him, his face still covered by the black beskar painted with streaks of red. 

“So you choose sparring over knife throwing?” Aeris snorts. “And to think I thought of you as a friend.” 

“You think I chose to be here?” You say, grumpy and still upset at the choice of activity. Really, a brisk walk around the Covert would’ve been fine.

Aeris shrugs. “Ah, and I see you’ve roped in my favorite vod. Tch, he uses his fists instead of his words to teach. I wish you luck—you’ll need it.”      

You open your mouth to retort but Paz beats you to it. 

“Leave.” 

“I’ve just arrived, actually,” Aeris scoffs, folding his torso over his other leg to stretch. “Perhaps you could reschedule. After all—our guest is quite free most days.” 

Welp—you’re perfectly fine with that. Problem solved. 

You spin on your heel and make a break for it but Paz snatches your wrist and pulls you back to his side. “Aeris.”  

“Paz,” Aeris mocks, tipping his helmet to the side. 

Paz exhales, a long, tired sound and grovels out another plea in clipped Mando’a. Aeris languidly stands and brushes off imaginary dust from the front of his pants. “Sorry, what was that? I don’t understand your accent.” 

“Boy—“

“No, no, it’s alright.” Aeris sighs, waving his hand in a mopey display as if he were told that his birthday party were canceled for the fifth year in a row. “I’d have trouble speaking too if my enormously thick head were cooped up in that little bucket of yours all day.”  

You wince. 

In the time you’ve known Paz Vizsla, he’s never been one to launch into rash decisions fueled by anger—he lets it simmer and build like an oncoming storm over the ocean. Devastating once it reaches land.

Aeris bobs his head and inspects his black leather glove, picking at a loose thread on the inseam over the thumb. He clicks his tongue. “Or'dinii—you’re going to kill her.”  

Your offended scoff is ignored as Paz steps forward; jutting his chin up to even out the few inches Aeris holds over the man. “You still haven’t learned to shut your mouth, boy.” 

The tension surges and crackles like a volt of electricity through the air—unresolved and ready to ignite with the sparking embers of Paz’s growing irritation. It’s not a fight Aeris Fenn will win. He’s volatile and hotheaded—but his expertise is in long range weaponry. Precise, deadly and swift—not whatever this little pissing match is heading towards.    

Aeris clicks his tongue as Paz digs a fist into the black fabric of his shirt. Paz yanks him forward, the metallic clink of their helmets colliding an unpleasant scrape that pierces your eardrums. Aeris snarls out sharpened words in Mando’a as his willowy fingers shoot up to curl beneath the lip of Paz’s helmet. 

In the blink of an eye, Paz lifts Aeris up by his collar and launches him across the room like he weighs nothing more than a couple of down pillows. His helmet meets the wall with a resounding clank, chipping some of the red paint outlining the visor. Ouch. 

Like a kicked dog, Aeris clambers to his feet, still dazed and swaying and for a fearful second you think he’ll retaliate. But with whatever braincells he happens to possess today—he instead spits out a venomous curse that even yourself would hesitate to repeat. He leaves without another word, bristling with rage. 

Your flash Paz a questioning stare. “The hell was that about?” 

Paz waves it away with an irritated grunt. “His heart is in the right place but he is young. Aeris doesn’t understand his place in the Covert yet and I doubt he will for years to come.” 

You frown. “Poor guy…” 

Paz mutters something under his breath. “Enough distractions. We’ve wasted enough time already.”

“Y’know…I think that’s enough excitement for today. I think I’ll be going now—“ Your last ditch attempt at weaseling out of this is quickly thwarted the moment you turn your back.  

You wheeze as the heel of Paz’s palm shoves into your shoulder blade, the force of it sending you stumbling to the ground. “Paz—“

“Go on. Hit me,” he orders. You squeak, narrowly avoiding the well aimed kick that skims the top of your scalp. 

You scramble to your feet, skirting out of range of the oncoming right hook. “So you attack me instead?” 

“How do you expect to catch quarries who are bigger than you?” He presses. You hiss as the points of his knuckles dig into the meat of your shoulder. 

You dance out of reach and rub your arm, a dull throb flaring up in the muscle. “I dunno—electrocute them?”

“Not if they take you by surprise.” 

You screech as his knuckles skim your cheek. Adrenaline pierces you veins and you wildly throw a flaky punch that wouldn’t even impress a toddler. He catches your fist with ease, his entire hand dwarfing your clenched fingers. “You can do better than that.” 

You snarl and struggle to rip your hand back. “I’m a scrapper. I don’t fight.”

“No,” he retorts. You fall onto your ass as he abruptly lets go of your hand. “You’re a bounty hunter.” 

You roll your eyes. “Hardly—why can’t I just stay here?”

Although there’s nothing to see with that swatch of black covering his eyes, you can certainly feel the look he’s giving you. A deep sigh hisses through the vocoder. “You can stay here—“

A triumphant smile splits across your face—

“—but not without contributing where it’s due.”

You puff up your cheeks and let out a dismayed stream of air. “Booo—lame.”

He sighs again and helps you off the floor. “Even if you leave the Guild, what I’m teaching you is helpful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “I’ll give you a call after I use your invaluable skills to beat up some thug.”

Paz ignores your comment and turns on his heel. “Let’s go through it again. This time use your front two knuckles instead of your whole fist.”

As your eyes land over the stretch of tight fighting fabric over his back an idea pops into your head. It’s a petty move but getting a punch in is fruitless—like trying to beat up a brick wall. You don’t fancy a broken hand and your knuckles are already bruised and swollen to the point where it’s hard to bend them. 

And so, without any forethought and with a running head start, you launch yourself onto him, your arms coiling around his neck. It does the job—takes him by surprise and makes him tip to the right. 

Aha! Yes!

Your reign of victory is short lived, however—

He latches onto your forearms strung around his neck and yanks. And much in the same way he threw Aeris like a sack of potatoes—you’re no different. For a short stretch of time that feels kriffing endless; you soar through the air, your directional whereabouts violently ripped out beneath you and equally nauseating in the same breath. 

Why you ever agreed to this—you don’t know.   

Your shoulder blade connects with the mat first, leaving behind a dull sting as you roll and tumble with uncontrollable momentum. Oh, yeah—you’ll feel that in the morning. 

Groaning, you thank the Maker that your body eventually settles into a miserable little pile of limbs and pain. But, it seems whatever higher power that lingers in the edges of the galaxy hasn’t decided to put you out of your misery just yet. 

A bulky shadow blocks out the dim lighting overhead, and for a brief anxiety ridden moment you’re afraid it’s Paz. You roll onto your back with a pathetic groan, a beg for mercy on the tip of your tongue—but as your eyes flutter open they’re met with an entirely different man. 

Din Djarin looms over you, his head cocked to the side as you blink in dumbfounded bewilderment. Ah, hell— 

You swallow, a furious heat bitting at your cheeks. “Uh…fine weather we’re having…”

“We’re inside,” he states with a brief glance up to the ceiling. 

You purse your lips. “Huh.”

With a pensive hum he offers his hand, you sigh and roll over, accepting his gloved hand. He hoists you up easily and adjusts your rumpled collar. “You ok?”

“Pfft, yeah,” you groan, rubbing your throbbing shoulder. “Never better.”

The low grumble of your name is a cross between disbelief and irritation. Din jerks his head, his attention zeroing in on Paz. “Are you trying to kill her?” 

“She isn’t made of glass.” 

“She is still recovering—“

Normally you’d intervene, but their bickering is tiring and it gives you the excuse to lie down. By the time one of them caves you’ve counted exactly one hundred and twelve weird ceiling stains. They should get that checked out.  

“Very well,” Paz snarls, cutting through your wandering thoughts. “You teach her.” 

Din scoffs, his shoulders drawn tight as he stomps over to your splayed out self. “Get up.”

“Geez, fine,” you grumble, not in the mood to test his patience further. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Later he’ll no doubt apologize but right now? He has to prove a point. Din cuts right to it, moves in close to place your clenched fists in the right stance and nudges at your feet until they’re a bit wider than hip distance. 

“You have to get in close with a bigger opponent,” he says, stepping into your space until your fists are close enough to touch his chest. “We don’t have much range here—easier to break our guard too.” 

“Right. And how would you suggest I do that?”

“You’re always beating me at cards.” Din says, tipping his head to the side. “You have a clever mind. Use it.” 

“But I always cheat.” You point out, dropping your guard to swat at a stray hair.   

He catches your wrists and returns them to where they ought to be. “Quick enough to get away with it.” 

You make a noise of uncertainty but do as you're told. Din takes a couple steps back and with a rough order you begin. 

He’s faster than Paz—bats at your guard in quick bursts and steps away when you attempt to hit back. It’s a dance almost—somehow elegant in its brutality of bruises and flashes of pain as you move around one another. Compared to Din, Paz is almost clumsy but unpredictable. Din—despite the rapidness of his attacks and evasiveness, becomes predictable.

He steps to to left—you follow. He rocks onto his toes to jab his fist forward and that’s where you find a break. Punching Din’s helmet won’t do you any good but catching the juncture of his shoulder with your elbow is completely feasible. Too bad that you’re not the only one with a clever mind.        

Din uses the momentum of your attack to catapult you to the ground—his own body rolling with you in order to capture you in a headlock of sorts. This sucks. After this you’ll never be setting foot in this Maker forsaken room again. 

Din tightens his elbow that’s looped around your throat as you squirm and flail, trapped against his chest. He grunts as your elbow digs into his ribs but holds steady and snakes his free arm across your front, pinning your limbs to your body in an unbreakable vice. All mobility is cut off as his knee pushes between your thighs, locking your leg out into an uncomfortable and frankly quite awkward angle. 

Inhaling a shaky breath, you arch as the crown of his helmet skims along the curve of your throat; the bite of beskar frigid and startling against your flushed skin. You can see his visor out of the corner of your eye; glittering and dark like the polished obsidian on Black Spire and endless like the greedy maw of a black hole. 

Your breath hitches as he shifts and curls his head closer to your ear. His voice rumbles low and deep through his chest and vibrates against the delicate cartilage. “Yield.” 

However much your pride wrestles with the sensible part of your brain, it’s all for naught as you jerk your head in defeat.  

In retrospect you should’ve said something—used your voice or made some kinda sound because suddenly Din’s forearm digs alarmingly hard into your windpipe. He read the stuttered jerk of your head as another pitiful act of defiance but no. Nope. 

Here you are—asphyxiating.   

Not exactly what you had in mind, being strangled by a Mandalorian and all—but a chokehold where you could very well die was not it. 

Fuzzy darkness begins to shade the corners of your vision, lightheadedness and a curious warmth that prickles down your spine settling low in your belly. A raspy gasp manages to slip through your blocked off airway, and stars why does this feel good?   

“Din—”

Paz’s sharp bark is distant above the ringing in your ears and it all stops.

You gulp in air that burns your throat like refined fire whiskey—hunched over the mat as a large palm rubs soothing circles over your upper back. You cough and roll over, sounding like a dying animal run over by a speeder then hit with a spiked club to polish it off. 

You’re quickly herded into Paz’s arms and pulled into his lap. Still wheezing and attempting to recover lost oxygen, whatever Din is trying to say translates into an indiscernible hum against the ringing in your ears.  

“I’m fine,” you mutter, though neither of them care to listen. Like bristling wolves, snapping at each other’s heels.  

“Apologize to her,” there’s not so much as a centimeter of room to argue. “Now.”           

It’s nice of Paz you suppose—defending your honor and what not, but you’re not a vengeful person. It was an honest mistake and you want to explain that so Din quits looking like a kicked puppy, yet the sudden touch over your ankle stops you. All the times Din has initiated contact it’d been a friendly pat to your shoulder or ruffling you hair, and while touching your ankle isn’t exactly scandalous it’s certainly an odd place to put your hand on. 

Your fingers clutch Paz’s shirt as you eye the man lingering at the bottom of your feet, his gloved thumb unconsciously rubbing patterns into the exposed skin between your boot and your pant leg. “Cyare—I’m sorry.” 

You blink and lick your lips. Interesting. “I-I don’t know what that word means.”

His hand inches higher, resting on the swell of your calf. “Sweetheart…darling…loved one—“ 

There’s a shift—a dark undercurrent that none of you should be dipping your toes into. There’s a million and one things to say or do to sever this at the root, but are you going to? Nah. 

Din’s thumb now rests over your knee, goosebumps following in his wake. “Should I keep going?” 

It too hot—stuffy with both of their heavy stares locked on your flushed face. You squirm and glance up at Paz who only offers an impassive stare. Great.   

“I can make it up to you,” Din continues, his hand stationary—a warm weight even through the fabric of your pants. “If you let me.” 

Your mouth feels drier than the desert on Jakku. This…nothing good could come out of what Din is hinting at. This is uncharted territory—launching yourself into the great unknown without any idea of what’ll fester and grow if you agree. 

It’s not like it hasn’t crossed your mind—it’s just…it’s never been both of them at the same time. These men are short-tempered, an open flame to jet fuel with deeply seated ire woven into the very fabric of their beings. You’ve barely scratched the surface on the inner workings of their mutual hostility, but you’re bright enough to question if this will make it worse. Tinder and brittle twigs feeding and enabling the hungry flames of rivalry to spiral and consume with chaotic brilliance of a dying star—

But, oh—

Isn’t it worth taking the risk? 

You suck in a grounding breath and slowly extend your leg that Din touches, gingerly skimming the toe of your shoe along the inseam of his inner thigh. “H-how would you…make it up to me?”

Din preens at your answer and shuffles closer, lifting your legs so that they rest in his lap. Devotion drips off his words like a fine liquor as he toys with the laces on your boots. “Anything—say it and it’s yours.”    

Sparks of molten heat race down your spine and metastasize in your lower belly, spreading through each vein and artery like a some sort of invasive ivy. You spare a look up at Paz as he shifts.      

“Go ahead, girl,” Paz assures. “Answer him.” 

It’s an unspoken, buzzing sort of thing like the static air before a storm, crackling and surging with pent up energy. You all know the implications of what’s to come—but it’s your words, quiet and steady that irons that nail into your coffin.

“Take me like you mean it.” 

The next few moments pass in a dizzying blur, a mess of anticipation as your shoes are yanked off, your pants following soon after and tossed into some unknown corner of the room. Paz helps you out of your shirt, a shiver wracking through your body from the chill, leaving you bare save for your underthings. Yet the warmth that seeps through his shirt and his hands that linger over your ribcage do a lovely job at making up for the cold.

Din shuffles closer and brings his fingers up to cup the side of your face, lowering his head to rest the crown of his helmet on your forehead. “Wanna touch you.” 

Your breath hitches as Paz’s hands sweep up your torso, cupping and kneading your breasts. “Y-you already are touching me, Din." 

Paz snorts as the rough leather of his gloves scrape over your skin and unhook your bindings. You hardly hear Din over your own whine as Paz rolls your hardened nipples between a forefinger and thumb. 

“I want to feel you—without the gloves,” Din clarifies, fighting to keep your attention on him. “Will you let me?”  

Maker that shouldn’t even be a question. You moan out your approval, delighted that both of them decide to slip off the padded fabric. Din touches your bare thigh the same moment Paz returns his hands to your tits and it’s exhilarating. The rasp of their bare palms against your flesh is addicting—something so foreign and warm compared to their usual armor and thick layered clothing. 

You arch into Paz’s hand as it curls around the base of your throat, a tentative pressure but still heavy. “You’d let us do anything, wouldn’t you? Needy little thing.”

“Yes,” you croak, already debauched and falling apart at the seams. “Anything.”

You’re all too happy to fade away in the embrace of the larger man but the other participant is far from letting that slide. Din grabs your hand, guiding it towards the front of his trousers, the drawstrings already loose and easy to pull aside. He groans and twitches as your fingertips flirt along his navel, then curl over the waistband, tugging his pants the rest of the way down to pool around his knees. 

You reach for the already impressive outline of his cock pressing against his boxers, but Paz cupping your cunt through your underwear just before you touch Din is distracting. You gasp and arch as Paz digs the heel of his palm against your clit, electrifying ecstasy zipping down your spine with each touch. 

There’s a twinge of guilt after Din huffs and drags your limp wrist back to his cock, this time encouraging you to palm him by guiding your actions with his own hand until you lazily oblige. Din’s quiet grunts, gravely against the vocoder do nothing but throw more jet fuel to the fire inside your belly. The growing urge to actually touch him gnaws and corrodes the forefront of your brain. With a firm yank his boxers are quick to join his trousers and Maker—

Fuck—

Will he even fit?

Din is thick, rosy brown and flushed at the tip and beginning to curl towards his bellybutton. A bead of liquid shines at the tip, dribbling down the underside as he wraps his fist around the base of his length. He gives himself a languid stroke before he, once again, reminds your hand of what it’s supposed to be doing. Din is searing in your palm, molten and stiffening to hardened steel in your grip.   

“You look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” Din hisses as his head rolls back onto his shoulders. “S-so pretty holding my cock.”

Your desperation tears at your insides, insatiable and Maker— you wanna taste him. You want to hear every little stuttered moan and feel each twitch of his hips as he claims your mouth as his own.    

But before you’re able to ask Din if he’d be willing to fuck your throat, Paz grips your knee and slings your leg over his thigh, murmuring praise as he peels off your underwear. Paz’s hand snakes down to your pussy and runs two thick fingers through your already slick cunt, then delicately parts your folds. 

It’s like a fucking bomb going off as his thumb grazes over your swollen clit. His forearm locks tight around your waist, keeping you in place as you arch and tremble. Paz is feather light and teasing, as he strokes over the little bundle of nerves in a painstakingly slow rhythm. 

“Paz—“ 

He nudges your cheek with his helmet and chuckles. “You’re so sensitive, vaar’ika. Such lovely noises too.”  

Paz trades in his light touches for using his two fingers instead. They form a relaxed ‘v’ shape, trapping your clit in between the digits as he massages in a steady up and down motion. You cry out, every nerve shocked and flooded with saccharine pleasure, shoving you so treacherously close to that precarious edge of release.      

You have no fucking chance as a different set of fingers, leaner in length but just as bulky, carefully prod at your entrance. Din’s pointer finger slides into your cunt, quickly adding a second as your core clenches and stretches for him. The dual sensations over your clit and Din’s fingers steadily pumping and curling inside you send you hurling into that dazzling white-hot pleasure.     

Throwing your head back, you cry out—a jumbled mess of their names or just nonsense— pleasure crackling out from your core and all the way down your legs. Your cunt tightens like a vice around Din’s digits, your legs twitching as your high dips into prickly overstimulation. You whine, and swat at Paz’s hand, Din pulling out his own fingers a moment later and wiping your wetness on the inside of your thigh. 

Your head rests in the crook of Paz’s shoulder as your breath fans across the side of his helmet, fogging up the metal where the blue paint is chipped and scraped away. The shirt he wears smells a bit like sweat but the underlying scent of him is comforting—worn leather and something crisp, like fresh laundry. You don’t mean for the words to slip out—

You know better than that, but everything feels muddled and silly and, and, and—

“I wish I could kiss you.”  

It’s like dousing ice cold water on a pile of smoldering coals. A silence, petrifying and like the inhale before jumping off a cliff and into a rocky sea, ensues. Stupid, stupid, stupid—  

Paz shatters the fragile suspense with a rich laugh that burns away all the icy worry making itself a home in your ribcage. He moves his arm up, his fingers gripping your jaw to fix your gaze onto the other Mandalorian. “You want his mouth on you too?”  

You whimper and nod, but it isn’t enough. 

“Use your voice vaar’ika,” Paz hums, pressing the crown of his helmet against your cheek. “Tell us want you want.” 

“I-fuck—” Paz’s fingertips sneak up your torso, rough callous catching deliciously on your skin. “I wan’t your mouth on me. B-both of you.” 

Paz chuckles and releases his hold on your chin. “You’ll have to be blindfolded, sweet girl.”

Din scoffs, a harsh crackle through the vocoder. “Like she’d want to see your face anyway.”

“Please,” you mewl, turning your head to curl into Paz’s neck. It’s not ideal, but it’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make. “I don’t care. I need—“

“Patience, little one,” Paz purrs, rubbing up and down your bare sides in a soothing manner. All it does is stoke the flames. “You’ll get what you want.” 

Paz shifts, reaching for your abandoned shirt and stars—

You can feel his cock, firmer then tempered durasteel and poking into your lower back. Oh, hell—these men are going to ruin you. 

You’re nudged forward, your vision going dark once your shirt is securely tied around your head. The knot traps a few hairs that pull sharp against your scalp but the measly pain is worth it. Oh so worth it.  

“Is it too tight?” You hear Din ask, concern lacing his gravely vocals. 

You wave your hand in dismissal. “S’fine.”

“Cant see anything either, right?” 

You squirm, your patience spreading thin. “Din, please.”

“Fine.” There’s no bite to his tone and under different circumstances you’d have more composure. Acknowledge that they’re putting their religion, their whole being into your hands—a fragile trust that could so easily be shattered. 

Your ears pick up their subtle movements, their helmets landing onto the thin mat with soft thunks. With bated breath you wait for them to jump into action, seize every spare moment to taste your skin and breathe the same air. But—

“You need a haircut, vod.”

“And you need to shave.” Retorts Din with bitter indignation. 

“It’s hardly even stubble.” He chortles. You giggle and twist away as he scrapes his prickly cheek up and down your neck. “Besides—she likes it.” 

There’s another lull, and with the blindfold everything is amplified—the quick and quiet breathing of Din on your right and the slide of fabric against skin as Paz shifts. Your attention is captured by Din’s bare palm, warm and calloused like weathered leather left out in the afternoon sun. He caresses the outside of your thigh in smooth, longing strokes, enraptured by the softness of your skin. You whimper and let your leg fall open, exposing more of your thigh for his curious exploration. 

The sudden touch on your cheek is jarring. You know Paz is there—it’s not an easy thing to forget the solid chest you’re leaning against but it’s hard to focus. Difficult to settle on one thought before it slips away like grains of sand between a clenched fist. Paz’s touch is heavier than Din’s, ambitious and greedy but…mindful. Even as his fingers spread along your jaw and drag you into a deep, mouthwatering kiss. It’s…stars—   

There’s nothing that can describe this. No word that could ever hold a candle up to the way his lips, plush and soft, move against yours. His nose brushes against your cheek as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, his warm tongue sliding against the seam of your bottom lip. 

You whine and bury your hand into his hair as Paz groans, a low rumble in his throat. You wonder what color it is, but carding your fingers through the curls atop his head suffices for now.

Your curiosity is abruptly ended as Din’s hand snakes around your forearm. You’re forcibly yanked away, only to be met with another pair of lips. Din murmurs an apology at the sting of his teeth bumping into your upper lip, but the pain is hardly the first thing on your mind. 

Din’s kiss is devouring—  

Scalding and bright—the galaxy, a thousand suns, all there ever will be and all that ever was. The way his lips move against yours is a devastatingly sharp contrast to the steady, syrupy sweet kiss Paz offers. Desperate and eager to surround you in his own arms—steal away any lingering thought and replace it with him. Din Djarin—  

You gasp as Din’s teeth nibble and pull on your bottom lip, only a moment before he surges closer, wrapping his hand around your jaw to hold it open as he licks deep into your mouth. Breaking for air, Din tangles his fingers into your hair at the base of your neck and yanks, baring the column of your throat. His travels down, the tender kisses morphing into teasing nips and lingering sucks that’ll turn into tender bruises in the morning. 

Din hovers over your breasts, his heated breath and cooling saliva the catalyst to the goosebumps that rush over your skin. He lightly tugs on your nipple using his teeth, then plants a sweet kiss over your sternum.   

“Can I taste you?” Din murmurs, his lips ghosting over your flesh. “Maker—wanna put my mouth on you.” 

“Din—“ A different set of lips latching onto the juncture of your neck and hijacks your train of thought. Wipes your mind clean until Paz is the sole thing you can consciously focus on. 

Paz laves his tongue over the shell of your ear and urges you to lean back against him once more. Your nose scrapes against his stubble as you tuck your head into the crook of his neck, his hips lazily rolling his hardened cock into your backside. 

“Or…” Paz rumbles, capturing your hand and interlacing your fingers with his. You marvel at the sheer size of his palm—astounded still when he leads his and your hands to palm his cock. “I could give you this. Fuck your pretty little cunt until you’re screaming for me.”

It’s a punch to the gut. Why the fuck do you have to choose? You squirm as Din points his tongue over your nipple then sucks it into his mouth. 

Working through the fog in your head, the answer is clearer than fucking crystal. Because who in their right mind would turn down a Mandalorian’s request to eat you out? Not you, that’s for sure. “Din—want your mouth.”

Din huffs in triumph and slips between your legs that part to accommodate his broad shoulders, leaving no patch of bare skin untouched and worshiped. You shiver as his tongue circles around your bellybutton then retreats. Din settles his head beside your knee and mouths a kiss there.  

You whine his name and buck your hips, heart beating wildly in your ears. The teasing is unbearable and, stars—if he doesn’t start now— 

He nibbles on the inside of your thigh, laving his warm tongue over each mark he leaves behind, buffering the sting of his teeth. Din snake his hands under your ass, hooking your knees over his shoulders as he heaves your cunt closer to his mouth. Din’s thumbs part your soaking pussy, his breath hot fanning over your cunt. His tongue his scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your slit all the way up to your clit. 

Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through you. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—fuck. Fuck, you need more.   

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are obliterated; nothing but the warmth of his tongue, and his lips, devouring you as if he were a man seconds from death and you’re his saving grace. That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade into smoke—but you’re not going anywhere. Not even a million credits could convince you to push Din’s head away. 

He sinks two fingers into your clenching hole and curls his fingers, stroking and curling his fingertips to make you sing. Zeros in on that little spot that causes the involuntary twitches of your leg and wrenches embarrassing, high pitched mewls that fill the room. You’re careening towards your high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure. 

“Shit—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must hurt. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth. 

Your release unfurls through your body like sticky molasses—smoldering embers that seep into each limb until they’re heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to think and at this rate your brain is as good as gone.   

You pay only a fraction of attention to Din as he kisses his way back up your body and lands a final one over your lips. His thumb grazes over your chin, his gravelly words of praise cutting through some of that foggy haze, how good you were, how fucking delicious you tasted when you came on his tongue. You taste your own arousal on his mouth as he noses your cheek and captures your lips in another kiss.           

“Are you done?” Paz asks dryly, much too barbed to be thrown your way. You groan when Paz jostles your limp body as he hoists you back into his lap.

“Just starting, actually,” Din quips. “Why don’t you hand her back over? I’ve got some more things I wanna try.” 

Paz scoffs and secures a heavy arm around your middle. “Greed will get you nowhere.” 

“Neither will your arrogance.” 

“Shut up—both of you,” you interrupt. Your voice is raw and choppy but it does the job. “Just fuck me already.”

For now their little spat is sidelined—it’s not worth ripping off that bandage of a temporary truce. There’s a chaste moment of quiet, like they’re considering tearing into each other’s throats instead, but with a touch to Paz’s thigh the standoff fizzles out. 

“We need to work on your manners,” Paz suggests, curling his large, calloused hand around your neck in a loose hold. “I believe it’s please fuck me.” 

Maybe if you weren’t practically a pile of brainless goo, you’d argue. See how far you can push—though this time you fold. “Please fuck me. P-please—I need it.” 

Seemingly satisfied with your answer; Paz wedges a hand between your bodies to grip his cock and run the tip through your folds, soaked from you own wetness and Din’s saliva. The head of his member nudges at your entrance, and wether it’s his size or the fact you can’t see anything—you panic. 

Your hand shoots out, nails harpooning into the meat of his forearm. “W-wait—you’re too b-big.”  

Paz freezes and moves you up his lap and presses a kiss over you hairline. “We can stop. Just say—“

“N-no, I’m fine,” you assure, planting an apologetic peck on his stubbled jaw. Stopping is the last thing you want to do—it was just…overwhelming. A sensory overload testing the very fringes of your being. “Go slow?”

You feel his head bob in compliance as he moves you back to where you’re hovering over his cock. You relax this time, not as many alarm bells clanging through your head as your cunt flutters around the fat tip and then that glorious, first thick inch. Paz’s thumb bumps over your throbbing clit, coaxing your pussy to take him further. 

“Yeah, that’s it vaar’ika,” he grunts, his breath fanning over your neck in quick pants. “Taking my cock so fucking well. So nice and pretty.”

Your pussy flutters, fresh waves of arousal hot and burning.You nearly keel over when Paz starts shallowly rocking his hips, easing your body the rest of the way down his length until the back of your thighs touch his. Maker—how the hell is he all the way inside? You can feel him in your fucking guts—         

“See?” Paz purrs. He sucks a bruise into the meat of your shoulder and pushes his palm against your lower stomach, making the fit even tighter. “Fits fucking perfect.”

The noise your cunt makes pulling out and the debauched moan that filters through his vocal chords is obscene. If anyone where to walk by, well—it’s certainly not training that’s going on, for the better lack of words. 

Paz holds true to his word—keeps his pace limited to deep, languid thrusts that brush up against something that makes your whole body shake—like strumming a golden chord molded to a musician’s fingers. Fuck—he’s doing all the work too. Lifting you by the swell of your hips and pulling you down onto his cock with a rough buck of his hips. 

Abruptly, he slows to a gentle rocking—quick to lock you in place as you thrash and roll your hips. “Paz—n-no. Keep going. You n-need to—“

Paz silences your please with a wet, open mouthed kiss. “Our friend looks lonely. Why don’t you use that pretty mouth and suck his cock?” 

Din. 

You hear the man curse in Mando’a, probably some stab at Paz—

But with a pat to your outer thigh, you don’t need any more prompting—you’d give up your left hand to get a chance to suck him off. With the help of Paz, you’re eased onto your hands and knees, shocks of white-hot pleasure zipping through your core at the change of angle. Like this Paz is seated deeper inside, stabbing into each spot that makes you sing.    

Fuck—your arms are shaking—only able to hold yourself up for half a click and then you’re sinking face first into the floor, ass in the air as he fucks into you. Paz clicks his tongue and wraps his arm around your front, pulling you back up from your slumped position. 

“I told you to suck his cock, girl. Not take a nap.” Paz accentuates his words with heavy, well measured thrusts—the kind of force you know will leave your whole lower half throbbing and sore in the aftermath. 

You whine as Paz grabs a hold of your jaw, digging into the tender joints until your mouth falls open. “Good. Keep it like that.” 

Paz’s hand falls away, replaced by a softer touch. The pads of Din’s fingers hook under your chin, guiding and tempting you nearer to what rests between his legs, hot and heavy and large.       

You feel the tip of his cock, flushed and pulsing, rest on your bottom lip. You lap up the beads of sticky precum with kitten licks that morph into suckling the entire head. Din grunts out your name and tangles his hand into your hair as you tongue at the ridged frenulum. He never forces you to swallow down more of him—lets you cradle the first few inches in the wet warmth of your mouth and languidly roll the pad of your tongue around him. 

You want to take him deeper, let Din fuck your throat raw, but your jaw already aches. Your lips are pulled tight around his shaft, drool dribbling down your chin and landing on the mat below. You’re not sure if you could take more of him without the danger of your teeth catching or dislocating your jaw. So you manage like this—hollowing out your cheeks and and using the momentum of Paz’s thrusts to pleasure Din.          

It’s frustrating—it must be each time you let his cock slip out of your mouth to breathe or the fact Din isn’t able to fucking fit his cock into your mouth. Annoying that you aren’t able to think properly to help him out a bit ore when that said brain is being fucked straight outta you, put through the wringer and then body slammed onto duracrete. 

Din cups your cheek, strokes over your skin with his thumb and maneuvers himself out of your mouth. You whine and lean into his palm, his touch addictive like smoldering coals in the dead of winter.    

“You want me there instead of him?” Din purrs, using the tips of his index and middle fingers to tilt your chin and drag you into an open mouthed kiss. “Fuck you like you deserve.” 

The profane imagery of Din between your legs instead makes you clench tight. It only takes a couple seconds and a few more feverish kisses before you’re nodding to his request. Paz mutters a swear, hesitates, and reluctantly pulls out, leaving your cunt empty and aching with need. 

Din, however, is speedy—quick to hoard you to himself and yank your legs over his hips so that you’re draped on his lap. He jumps straight to the point, no fancy maneuver or drawn out teasing—just grabs the base of his cock, slides the flushed tip between your folds and sinks into your cunt. Even after your pussy had been stretched and molded around Paz’s length, you struggle to take Din’s entire cock into your aching center. It’s easier than Paz but, Maker—not by much. 

You whine, harpooning your fingernails into his shoulder once he bottoms out. Din snarls a curse and latches his teeth onto the juncture between your neck and shoulder, prickly pain shooting directly to your belly. “Fucking tight. H-how—fuck.”

There’s no time to adjust before Din sets a pace, harsh and desperate—his hands digging into the flesh of your ass for better leverage. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end before it could be yanked out from under him. Din’s staggered exhales below your ear are interlaced with subdued moans that start low in his ribcage then dip into a higher, airy pitch. A delicate sound you’ll guard closer to your chest than any secret you possess for the rest of your life—precious and yours. 

Din turns his head to steal a kiss. “You feel fuck—fucking good. Wanna feel you cum around me. S-squeezed so fucking hard around my fingers—“

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Heat sizzles down each vertebrae in your spine, burning up each and every cell with the brilliance of a wildfire. Stars, this is gonna destroy you.      

Din’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s no build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of blistering warmth that knocks you off your feet and steals away all the air left in your lungs. Your nails dig into Din’s back as you shake and grapple for a foothold in your own consciousness—the steady warmth of his body a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you.  

“Good girl,” Din praises, pace faltering from just how tight your pussy squeezes and flutters around his cock. “S-such a fucking good girl for me.”     

Regaining some semblance of control, you realize he’s still fucking going—still rock solid and throbbing, fucking you through the aftershocks of your release. Your arousal turns sharp, like rough cotton over a fresh sunburn as it dips into overstimulation. It’s not unpleasant but Din has to slow his hips to a delicate roll for you to recover.            

In the time it takes to inhale, a different calloused hand kneads into your lower back then smoothes up your spine. A second later you feel the scrape of Paz’s stubble prick along your exposed shoulder as his tongue drags along your sweat dampened skin—all the way up the curve of your neck and ending at the shell of your ear. 

You’re not sure if it’s intentional, but as Paz crowds closer the tip of his cock pokes at your other hole. With a surprised mewl, you tense and shy away—but he follows, molds his chest against your back to sandwhich you in. The hand gripping your bicep jumps to your neck and pulls your head against his shoulder. 

Two of Paz’s fingers dip down the curve of your ass and brush along the puckered skin—far less jarring this time. “Do you want to be fucked here too?” 

Maker—

You’re gonna fucking explode.  

Stuffed to the brim already, it’s hard to imagine Paz cramming himself in along with Din. A little red light blares in some corner of your mind but it’s quickly soothed as Paz plants soft kisses over your cheek and jaw. You trust him—there’s no reason to think he’ll hurt you or push you to the point of pain.

You catch his mouth with a kiss and rock your hips back. “Y-yeah, ok. I trust you.” 

You feel his smile curl against your cheek. “Don’t worry vaar’ika—I’ll take care of you.”

Paz strokes your bottom lip with his thumb and kisses the crown of your hairline as you sink into him. With his ring and middle finger, he pushes past the seam of your lips. “Suck.”

You obey, sealing your lips around his two digits and coating them in your saliva. Paz pulls them out with a pop and moves them between your legs, and with the added wetness dripping from your cunt, the first finger is easy enough. The second and third have you gasping as he scissors them and stretches your tight hole wider. You claw your nails into Din’s shirt—and he’s no better—Din’s own hands are clamping around your hips, struggling to keep still and biting back moans each time your cunt constricts. 

Your hips begins to meet the thrusts of Paz’s fingers as your body familiarizes the feel of him there. It’s a deep thrill that rushes up through your spinal cord—much different from anything you’ve felt before. 

“You like this, don’t you?” Paz goads, chuckling when you whine as he extracts his fingers. “I think you’re ready to take my cock, yeah?”

You shudder and nod, your voice no more than a squeak as it pilfers out. Paz strokes the top of your head and tips you forward into Din’s eager arms as Paz slicks up his length in a mix of precum and your dripping arousal. He touches the swell of you ass in warning, lines himself up with your hole and wedges the tip of his cock inside of you.     

Involuntary tears dampen your makeshift blindfold as Paz buries himself deeper, his rumbling tone urging you to relax—relax even though your mind is drowning in an ocean of arousal and swirling emotions you have no hope to pin down and analyze. It’s for the best—thankful as Paz bottoms out that it wrenches you back to a feasible reality you’re able to manage.

“Shit—I-I’m gonna die—“ You sob, writhing at just how full you are. But there’s nowhere to fucking go—     

“Easy,” Din breathes, and you wonder if he’s said it to keep his own head on his shoulders. “Easy.”

Din’s gravelly rasp cuts through the fog in your head, and stars—you sound like you’re fucking dying. Your wheezy breaths and lightheadedness would certainly suggest that—but no…no, you’re fine. Better than fine.     

A rush so acute and devastating launches up your spine as Din’s patience cracks. He experimentally rolls his hips and that’s the end of it. You’re swallowed up in that riptide you fought so hard to avoid—fuck. You won’t be the same after this. How can you?  

You can feel them both, separated by a thin wall as they sprint towards their own highs. You’re never once left empty—Din reaches the end of you as Paz pulls out and while there’s not exactly any finesse involves it’s the best fucking thing you’ve felt in your entire life. There’s no bickering—no teasing and you’re struck with an idea that makes you clench tight around both of them. You wouldn’t mind if this was the way they decided to settle scores or finally see eye to eye.   

This time you can’t discern your high—just a constant overflow of ecstasy and dazzling arousal like an imploding supernova. You cry their names—sob and shake in their hold with such fervor that Paz traps you tighter between them to keep you still.  

“Fuck—you get so fucking tight,” Paz growls, blunt nails digging into your hips. “And so fucking wet.”

His fingers touch the inside of your thigh and stars—he’s right. “I get to fuck your cunt next time—see how much you’ll drip for me.” 

Even if the blindfold were off—there’d be nothing to see but a white wash of nothing. Blinded by pleasure and bursting at the seems. 

Jealous, Din steals your breath away with a kiss, licking and nipping at your swollen lips until you whine his name. His jagged pants fan across your chin—chapped lips and patchy facial hair tickling across your bottom lip as you breath the same air. 

Din whispers your name like a prayer, his fingers clutching tight around your thighs as his pace starts to flounder to choppy jerks. “Shit. I-I’m close—“

Your fingers twist into his hair. “Yeah—ok baby. Let go.”

Din’s teeth sink into the base of your throat and cums. His seed coats your insides—hot and copious and fucking shit—if there’s a next time you want him to cum in your mouth.      

You don’t get time to relish Din’s stuttered gasps of your name, laced with praise and a show of a tender and bleeding heart before Paz is gathering up your hair in a tight fist and jerking your head up. “You—you want me to cum too? Say it.” 

Without a breath of hesitation you beg for it, cry and arch into him. It does the trick—

Paz is loud—shouts a thunderous roar and buries his cock deep into your hole. Din is still recovering from the aftershocks of his release when Paz pulls out after what seems like ages pumping you full. His cock no longer there to plug you up, his cum begins to dribble out and mix with the mess between your legs. Your legs shake and you wobble--crying out as Din slips out, your body dreadfully empty and aching.     

You're lowered to the mat by Din and if you weren't still trying to formulate words, you'd thank them. Lips dart over your cheeks and hairline, and for once nothing needs to be said. It’s nice...the radiating warmth from their bodies and the simmering flush through you body is something you could get used to. But you’re no stranger to the shifting tides of the future. 

You shrug it off.    

Your eyes are heavy and with one of them stroking your hair and the other your thigh, you drift to sleep. Later—later all unspoken things and disastrous words can be dealt with tomorrow. You must be dreaming when it’s said--careless and bold, but the words nestle into your heart and sprouts with fear. 

“You love her, don't you?” 

translation:

vaar’ika--pipsqueak 

or’dinni--dumbass idiot 

vod--brother/comrade 

tag list: 

@bobafctts​ @djxrxn​ @teaofpeach​ @corrupt-fvcker​ @nelba​ @datmando​ @ben-is-a-hoe​ @dreams-like-clockwork​ @aerynwrites​ @auty-ren​ @huliabitch​ @anxiety-riddled-mando​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @trippedmetaldetector​ 

[cheelduh]

How to tie up a cute boy

(Highschool Au)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Parts: 1  2  3

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Swearing, Scaramouche abuse, no Signora slander this time, shit humour.

Synopsis: "Why are you doing homework?" Childe groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

Note: Unedited yet again besties. Tysm for reading :) I got Childe after losing him to mf MONA, istg it was the most stressful moment of my life.

The clock ticks with its pendulum, ridiculing you as it holds the time. The gentle whirring of the air conditioning in the background serves as the icing on the cake to your pent up aggression.

You try not to glare at your phone too much after receiving a text from Childe that told you not to worry, that his dad picked him up and that he was in the comfort of his home, letting the flu blow over.

It took a lot of convincing from his part earlier that morning to get you to go back and actually attend the rest of your classes, making sure to check up on him every break plus the additional "bathroom breaks" you usually never take while in class.

"I can't let you get in trouble for me." He murmured with a small smile that pumped your blood a little faster than usual. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry your pretty little head."

You do exactly that.

You don't even know why you're so worried. He's sick, not dying. Not to mention, you aren't even his girlfriend let alone his friend to care so much. 

Your intrusive thoughts don't waste any time. You latch onto the one thought that takes over. He's probably dead. Lying in his bed in a heap of pillows, passing peacefully while his parents are in the other room. He's dead.

Okay, he's not dead. You intrusive thoughts sure do one hell of a job. He'll be fine, and in no time he'll go back to being a reckless distraction in your life that you need to surpass. Just another obstacle to add onto the list of things life has thrown at you.

But for an obstacle, he sure is kind of cute.

You refrain from bashing your head on the desk. School isn't really a preferred environment on your list of top ten places to shrivel up and die.

Speaking of death and all that is evil, why is Childe always on your mind? He takes up every nook and cranny of your day, constantly, and truth be told it's starting to boil your piss.

Every time you close your eyes you see his smug smile, and hear his stupid laugh. He's an annoying little prick who gets a rise out of exasperating you. Yet here you are, terrified by the warmth that blossoms in your heart when you so much as hear his name.

The final bell rings at long last, conveniently before you bite your tongue to avoid screaming, and not another second is wasted once you launch yourself out the door. You dodge through the crowd of students in the hall that are buzzing in excitement from it being a Friday afternoon, and you would be too if you weren't so damn hung up over a ginger with a battlekink.

Locker in view, you make a beeline and spend the next two minutes fumbling with the lock in your hands.

"Woah there cutie," Lisa speaks up playfully. "At this rate you'll break the poor lock with your bare hands."

For a moment you're surprised at her sudden appearance, but then remember that it's normal for her to worm her way anywhere.

"It's just—this lock is being dumb okay? It has no reason being a pain in my ass but it wakes up every day and chooses violence." You hiss through your teeth, a sharp metallic ring invading your ears when you lose it and jostle the combination lock against the door of your locker.

Lisa winces, but smiles teasingly nonetheless. "Want me to give it a try?"

"Please."

Lisa has the door open at record speed.

"I love you Lisa." You confess wholeheartedly, gripping at your chest. "I love you so much—"

"Yeah yeah," She waves you off with a grin. "Now hurry up and go save your boyfriend from the common flu. Archons knows he won't make the night."

You flush at the word "boyfriend" and don't give much thought to the insinuation that lies within the rest of her sentence.

Sliding your skateboard under an arm, you spin on your heel just to bump straight into Scaramouche, who's won the scowl of the century on his face. He's the last person you want to see right now, but apparently the universe wants to have a pissing match with you.

"Give this homework to that idiot Ginger." He shoves a stack of papers into you. "Tell him that once he's done circling the drain, I'm gonna kick his ass." He then leans in, murderous glint in his eyes. "And if you ever touch me again I'll take a shit in your cereal. That's not a threat, it's a promise."

You shiver at the thought of him squatting on your Cheerios, hands becoming clammy as you try and justify yourself. "It was an accident."

Your pitiful excuse earns you nothing from the navy haired boy. "It'll be an accident when I murder your entire family, three generations over."

"Hi Mona!" You wave excitedly over his shoulder at the body of students that are totally not Mona. With elation he fails to conceal, Scaramouche turns to look at the speed of light.

You take the chance to make your escape—not before waving to Lisa, chuckling to yourself. He's down bad.

With great expertise you file your way through the flock of students chattering near the entrance. , you confidently place your skateboard down on the sidewalk, ready to—

Wait—where does he live again?

You sigh heavily, ignoring the sadness as you thank the universe internally for pulling the reigns on your disastrous plan. Checking up on Childe at his house? With his family present? Making a complete fool out of yourself? What are you thinking? The possibilities are horrendous. He probably doesn't even think of you like that, he just likes a challenge and you pose as one.

You turn away to make a run for it in the direction of your home, all the while ignoring the nagging worry in your chest for Childe. He's probably fine anyways, you don't need to check up on him, and if you did he'd likely find a way to spin it and tease you relentlessly.

Although somehow, the thought of being teased by him isn't as dreadful as you'd like it to be.

Suddenly, an idea graces you, one that guarantees your misery by sating your obligation to check up on Childe. A litany of curses escape your mouth. Genius really, the amount of ways you can think of doing something that'll end in your demise.

"Adeptus Xiao." You whisper apprehensively, already regretting your decision. "Adeptus Xiao." Glancing around your surroundings, you barely notice the shadow that looms over you at your backside.

"What do you want mortal?" Unbeknownst to you, he strikes out of nowhere, making you jump back several meters. You manage to muffle a surprised shriek.

Xiao is Venti's -6 ft boyfriend, the vicious epitome of an eboy. He has a scaled tattoo covering up the majority of an arm, a few piercing holes in his ears, all matched up with a disinterested look. Somehow, he always appears out of nowhere if you call out his name. It's sort of disturbing in a way.

His amber eyes pierce through you, forcing a shudder of fear and dread to lace your blood, almost as if he can sense you shittalking him in your head.

With shaky hands, you ask, "Can you tell me where—"

"No."

"You didn't even hear me ou—"

"No."

"Please?"

He refuses to at least pretend to think about it for a moment.

"No."

"Why?" You frown, stomping your foot on the ground childishly.

"Because." He retorts with a lack of interest, but doesn't further explain his point. English teachers must love this kid.

"Okay," You say slowly, casually inspecting his form as you come up with an idea, briefly remembering Lumine mentioning it to you. "How about I give you my share on almond tofu Tuesday."

The lack of interest on his face wavers slightly. Bingo.

"What do you want mortal?" Xiao mutters gruffly, arms crossed, face morphing into subtle annoyance.

You wrack your brain for a proper answer. You can't just outright ask him or it'll seem like you have a thing for Childe, which you unfortunately do, but you'd like to keep a semblance of integrity. Ah yes, the homework!

"I gotta deliver these to Childe." You outstretch the pile of worksheets in your hands. "Except I don't know where he lives. Can you tell me?"

Xiao's eyes glint with danger. "Did you summon me for the trivial task of giving you an address?"

You nod furiously.

"Do humans have no shame?" Its rhetorical. Expressionlessly, he closes his eyes with intent focus, doing what you assume to be locating Childe's exact location.

He blinks an eye open, reaches a hand out. "Give me your phone." Palm waiting.

You hand it over to him almost desperately.

One glance at your bubbly phone case and he doesn't even try to hide his distaste. He taps a few times, then hands it back to you almost immediately.

On the screen is maps, and Childe's home is about a fifteen minute walk away.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

"Easy," He mutters, leaning back against the school gate as the remainder of students walk past the two of you. "Locating demons that need subjugating is but a simple task."

There's a pregnant pause. Demon.

"Childe's a demon?" You gasp, even though you've always had your suspicions. Hence the reason you invest so much in demon-cancelling charms.

"What? No." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, and you note that his irritation grows the more questions you ask. "I had a physics project with him last semester."

That's why the charms don't work.

Your mouth forms an o, in fear that if you keep this conversation going on any longer, he'll snap at you. Especially when your next line of interrogation involves how he's able to appear and disappear into thin air.

It's a magic trick you'll want to master whenever Il Dottore has another conniption fit in the middle of the hallways after Kaeya tells him he looks like he has skid marks.

"Thank you." You say instead, trying to preserve his regard, but by the time you meet his gaze he's already gone with the wind.

—

Childe's home is surprisingly humble, considering the amount of fat stacks of cash he carries around in his fanny pack so care-freely. It's a normal suburban home from what you can tell, a little bigger than normal with a double garage, neatly mowed lawn and a few forgotten decorations from the windblume festival. A series of water guns lay forgotten near the entrance, making their presence known when you stumbled upon them.

It's hard to remain unphased. Especially since such a normal looking home has bred someone as ruthless as Childe.

Maybe it not the home, you think. Maybe it's the way he was raised. You recall a few glimpses of his mother in middle school, but because of your worse for wear memory retention, you can't ballpark her personality type.

As your thoughts wander further down to his parents and early childhood, villain origin story and what not, you're pulled out of your concentration when the door opens. The possible implications of being here are most definitely not in your favor.

Childe's mother is a stunning woman in her mid-forties who sure as hell doesn't show it in that jaw-dropping sapphire dress, topped off with a brilliant smile that makes your knees weak. Like mother like son, you suppose.

With her sudden appearance, strangely enough, you can remember how good her tiramisu bites are.

You take a moment to respond, swallowing thickly, only to stare at her stupidly.

His mother doesn't waste another second before ushering you in, oblivious to your star-struck expression. "Y/N? L/N Y/N? My have you grown. I remember when you were only this tall." She lifts her hand up a little above her waist, the jewels on her fingers dazzling with every movement. "How is your mother doing?"

"She's doing alright, busy with the clinic." You're able to find your words, smiling back at her, able to get somewhat familiar with her warmth. "I hope I'm not intruding. Childe forgot some homework." You say, heaving the short stack up.

"Ajax?" She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's going by that now. I wonder when this phase will be over. He may act tough but he's such a softie, has the biggest heart."

You, in between concealed emotions and giggles that threaten to leak, try to hide the oncoming grin but it's impossible. "Well he's got you to thank for it."

"You flatter me too much Y/N," She fixes the up do, pinning back the blonde hair that deftly frame her familiar cerulean eyes. "I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Her words make you waver momentarily. The fondness you've refused to share, the drawn out stares in the halls, the lingering touches, you don't want to acknowledge it but it's there. Whatever it is.

"I'm so sorry for cutting this short dear," His mother sighs, grabbing her keys off the counter and placing her wallet in an elegant handbag. "My niece is getting married and we're already late. I told Ajax I'd stay if he didn't feel too well but he said he could handle a headache. That boy, I swear, always tries to power through."

You nod in understanding, but wait a minute. A headache?

Scrunching up your face, eyebrows furrowed, you ask. "Headache?"

She frowns, applying another layer of her rouge lipstick hastily in a nearby mirror. "I know dear, how unfortunate. The school nurse said it's a migraine, and I shouldn't fret much, but a mother can't help but worry. If only he weren't so stubborn, like his father."

As if on cue, a loud honk comes from outside.

"That must be him!" She exclaims, hurriedly sliding in her heels, turning back to look at your awkward figure. "Ajax is in his room, it's the second door to the right upstairs. I've made some lasagna for the kids, you ought to have some as well, I'll be upset if you don't—" Another annoying honk cuts her off, to which she scoffs, shaking a fist. "That old man, I'll strangle him in his sleep. I must be going now, goodbye dear." She reveals a twinkling smile at you one last time, waving a slim hand before picking up her heels and making a run for it.

The door closes with an unceremonious thud, gust of wind in its trail, leaving a bewildered high schooler in its wake.

Snapping out of your haze, overwhelming tides threaten to drown you whole. Being in Childe's home, alone, with him a handful of stair steps and a wall or two away, your cheeks are set ablaze.

Now that his mother's gone, you take a second to really look. There are a few toys littered in front of the TV, home covered in with soft throws and coordinated cushions, a lazy sectional plopped right in the middle. The marks on the furniture with all the stories, the light hued mismatched frames hanging on the walls and on all the table, so many pictures of those that resemble him, his brothers, his sisters, his family. You can almost hear the echoing laughter in the halls, the childish squeals and pitter patter of tiny feet slapping the hardwood floor.

This is where he grew up. This is where he retires to after a long day full of gratifying fistfights. This is where he was raised to be who he is today, ambitious and reckless, with the absurd dream to one day rule the world. This is his home.

It's...like being wrapped in blanket, safe and cozy, surrounded by all the love in the world.

Absentmindedly, your fingers trace the outlines of a younger Childe, two missing teeth and eyes full of dreams, hugging the side of his father's shoulder because his small arms can't wrap around them. Not just yet.

You make your way over to the staircase, which has even more frames littered across the wall, one that falls short of hiding the marks of a green crayon—another slice of domesticity you aren't quite accustomed to.

The reality sets in, and you come to a conclusion. This home is definitely not an environment for growing psychopaths, Childe just beats the odds like he beats up kids on the daily.

Your fist hovers over his door as you contemplate abandoning the sheets on a nearby table, but his mother was so sweet and polite, so incredibly hospitable, you wouldn't have the heart to make a run for it.

"I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Three consecutive knocks. If he doesn't answer, you'll leave them at the door.

"Mama," Childe's muffled groans stem from the other side, and oh, you want to revel in the grave undertone of his voice because it's certainly not a common occurrence. "I told you I'm fine. You can go okay? I don't want you to be late, just need to sleep it off."

You blink, lips curling, and then knock again.

"Mama," He whines again, and it has you grinning mischievously. He's a mommy's boy, he has to be. The thought envelopes your heart with a newfound fondness. "Just come in and hurry."

You eagerly take in the room once you slip in, eyes scanning over every little detail, until they zero in on the heap of sheets smack dab on the single bed, a pair of feet dangling off the edge, topped with a comforter thrown over leisurely.

Childe's facing away from you, head dipped in between his shoulders, probably trying to find a position that's more comfortable. He's shivering, sweating at the same time. His mother must've been too preoccupied to notice. This isn't the first time he's used his exceptional bullshitting finesse.

"I can't believe you lied to your mother," You cross your arms, leaning back against the door.

With a jerk, Childe flings into a sitting up position, wide awake and aware of everything that is going on, a stark contrast from nearly seconds ago.

He blinks at you in shock, once, twice, rubs his eyes a bit, relaxes, then leans back, out of it completely. "For a sleep paralysis monster, you sure are kind of cute."

"For and idiot you sure are an idiot." You snort back.

"Wait a minute," He mutters slowly, jaw dropping. "You're actually here?!"

Ignoring his question, you opt to slap the papers on his desk to ignore your clammy palms. "Homework."

"And here I thought you came here all this way to be my personal nurse." He smirks, recovering from his momentary shock fairly swiftly. Doesn't refrain from giving you that shit stain of a bad boy grin, even with a flushed face and concavity under his eyes.

"I can be your personal mortician instead."

"I didn't know you were into role play babe, but I'll take what I can get." He winks, but is punished by a sequence of coughs that earn a wince from you.

"Headache?" You tease after he quiets down, but he remains as cavalier as always.

He sighs, sides of his lips still arched upwards. "My parents barely have any time to themselves, it's so hectic with the kids. What kind of son would I be if I couldn't even give them this?"

He must've threatened Barbara.

"You're," You inhale, briefly letting the silence hang between you two, mulling over what you wish to convey. sweet.

"Irresistible? Hot? Sexy?" He starts casual, arrogant smirk widening.

"Kind of not a complete asshole, is what I was going to say."

"Careful girlie," He narrows his eyes on you, playful lilt in his tone. The comforter is allowed to slip past his shoulders to reveal the goods that lie underneath, the complete naked chest of a post-puberty highschool boy who sprays too much axe. Full pectorals are something to pay for, stringed with smooth muscles that ripple their way over his toned shoulders. "If you keep teasing me like this, I can't promise I'll be the nice guy."

"One more time from the top," You bite back, avoiding staring at him for too long. "Without the congested nose this time."

With great expertise, he weakly throws a pillow at you, and you watch it exceptionally land at your feet, barely grazing the tips of your socks.

"Impressive," You whistle, not impressed.

He pouts, shivers, then is dunking his head back into the welcoming embrace of his plush collection of pillows.

With a sigh, you plop down on his chair, grab a pen and begin calculating derivatives.

"What're you doing?" He doesn't even turn your way, voice muffled.

"Homework," You reply nonchalantly, trying to calm your nerves. "unless you want me to get you something to eat, considering you puked out your gogurt on Barbara's shoes earlier. Congrats by the way, you're hit listed by her fan club."

"Why are you doing homework?" He groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

He really has an IQ below room temperature.

Burying the formidable obligation to clock him in the face on behalf of society, you slowly get up to approach his bed, to which he grins widely in disbelief.

Apprehensively, you climb onto his bed, and he scoots over, excitement as clear as day. His hair's a wild mess from all the shifting, almost makes you want to card a hand through it. Your heart nestles it's way in your throat at the sight of his blazing blue eyes.

You pity him for what you're about to do.

"Relax Childe," You lean over him with confidence you never knew you had to begin with, face hovering inches before his. Your fists strategically grip the comforter on either side of him. "We have all day after all."

Although you attempt to pay no heed to his quivering hand that snakes up to find solace on your hip, you momentarily shiver at the tenderness.

He's eating this up and leaving no crumbs. Closing his eyes in anticipation, his lips tremble when he tries to close in the distance.

Abruptly, you cross both handfuls of sheets over his body, tying them securely in place to keep him docile. He struggles in your grip, eyes snapping open in surprise. "Wuh-What."

"Did you really think you had a chance?" You cross your arms, stepping back to get a good look at your handiwork.

"Honestly?" Childe huffs, struggles some in his restraints. "I wasn't really thinking."

"Typical," You scrunch your nose up, unscrunch, and then exhale. "You stay here and I'll go make you some soup. Well, not that you can really move but you get the idea."

"You're really going to leave me here like this?" He pouts cutely, melting you, and the sick bastard knows of his power.

"Relax," You wave a hand, "I may be evil but I'm not Scaramouche."

Meanwhile, Scaramouche sneezes as he tries to ask Mona out, falling straight on his ass from the kick back, making a complete fool out of himself. Mona doesn't mind though, finds it endearing.

Back at Childe's room, he raises a brow, expectant.

Going through the five stages of grief, you do something you've been wanting to do for a while, succumbing to the immense feeling.

Closing in the distance between you two, you suck in a breath and gently tilt Childe's head to the side. He blinks quickly, not quite expecting your sudden forwardness, about to say something that doesn't matter as soon as you place a tender peck on the side of his cheek.

Time stops, the world coming to a halt completely. A moment made in history, one you won't ever forget, fresh in both your minds from forward on.

And then you stagger away as if you've been stabbed.

"Soup!" You squeak, appalled by the sheer boldness of your actions. "I'll go make soup while you rest."

Childe, frozen, stares at you incredibly confused, and then beams.

Dear Archons, what have you done.

[romanianwilkinson]

MONSTER CAMP QUOTES STARTERS

A collection of sentence starters from the game Monster Camp. Feel free to change words and pronouns as desired. CONTENT WARNING(S) FOR: Monster Prom/Monster Camp spoilers, suggestive, cursing, crude content

“ I just have it here because [NAME] insisted that I offer it, as a marketing stunt. ”

“ And lastly, super-horny-type players no longer get a charm buff against tsundere types! ”

“ War machines don’t turn me on or anything! ”

“ I don’t wanna be weird, but do you mind if I climb inside of you and play around with your main turret? ”

“ A wine to DIE for, you say? Well, darling, don’t threaten me with a good time! ”

“ This one just says ‘ hmu with that reaper dick, daddy ’. ”

“ You on your phone, as always! Probably making blogposts on your Tik Tok page. ”

“ Yeah, you really don’t want to witness a repeat of the last time [NAME]’s diehard fans went without a selfie for fifteen minutes. My tailbone still hasn’t completely healed. ”

“ Now hold still, this will only hurt for a moment --- ”

“ Yay! You found a shenanigan! ”

“ My poems all have two or three emotions in them, AT LEAST. ”

“ CRYING IS OBVIOUSLY A COMPETITION TO SEE WHO CAN SQUEEZE THE MOST WATER OUT OF THEIR EYES! ”

“ No way, really? The way to WIN at poetry is by LOSING at life? ”

“ I dunno, maybe fall in love with someone who’s married and develop an opioid addiction? ”

“ HELL YEAH, SPEEDRUN! ”

“ It’s morbid, but... kind of romantic? ”

“ GASP! Google+? Are you kidding me? The psychopaths behind that global tragedy are here?! ”

“ Prison has changed me, [NAME]. Would you like to trade me some cigarettes in exchange for my fundamental dignity? ”

“ Undermining the laws of reality, subverting life and death, that’s the kind of stuff my followers expect. But CHEATING? No way. ”

“ Though we are imprisoned in chalk jail, we are free in our hearts. But our hearts are also imprisoned in chalk jail. ”

“ Um, no, I am NOT groveling. I am posing a dignified query to [NAME] that just so happens to be performed on my hands and knees. ”

“ I didn’t know you condoned playing the friend card to get free labor, [NAME]. ”

“ Ah, but saving the world doesn’t put avocado toast on the table. We indie seancers and necromancers need to pay our rent too, you know. ”

“ And as you know, I am illustriously Internet-famous, so if you could shower me with adoration and give me the pizza that would be fabulous. ”

“ Do you wanna fuck the pizza or not? ”

“ Are you ready to go swimming? I must admit, darling, I’ve always wondered what you would look like while... wet.”

“ Did you turn this date into an orgy without consulting me? ”

“ Gosh, I love it when you insult me! Please do it more! ”

“ Now who wants to make a baby? ”

“ What if she puts a curse on me that makes me magically forget the location of the clitoris?! ”

“ Hey, don’t knock wacky decisions that endanger us all! That’s how I always manage to stay a step ahead of my nemeses! ”

“ Oh gods, I’ve killed so many monsters, just for being monsters. This is making me question my entire moral foundation. I NEED MORE THERAPY. ”

“ I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: fish give better pedicures than people! ”

“ You’re not tricking me into parenting a stupid egg. I’ve never fucked even ONE chicken! The egg is not my son! ”

“ You came to visit me at camp, Daddy! ”

“ Don’t be ridiculous, I know your brand of horny, [NAME], and this ain’t it. ”

“ I thought we both agreed to be nothing but vague and haughtily aloof about our past dalliances. ”

“ Point EAST, compass! EAAAAAAAAST! You dumb fuckboot!!!! POINT! EAST! ”

“ One time I was told a soul’s worst fear was bugs and I inadvertantly sent The Beatles. It happens to the best of us... And the worst of us. ”

“ SOMEDAY I SHALL DEFEAT YOUR FIVE STRANGE FEET! ”

“ Why do you keep suppressing your monster half? Embrace your true nature! ”

“ Wow. I didn't think this was possible, but I guess I was... wrong? About social media? Oh dear God, is this how grandparents feel?!?! Am I a GRANDPARENT?! ”

“ I don’t know! I was relying on my friends to cover up my bold and idiotic statement! ”

“ ... I ate the oars. ”

“ PSYCHE. The ocean can eat my ass. ”

“ So pucker up, [NAME]! I'm about to declare mouth war on your FACE! ”

“ YOU FOOLISHLY FOOLISH FOOL! You're showing our inexperience! YOUR HONOR, THE ENTIRE LEGAL TEAM PLEADS THE FIFTH! ”

“ That's right. I'm talking about a classic Transylvania Hot Tub, a Seth Brundle, and a REVERSE Reverse Romanian Wilkinson. ”

“ Sorry, I was in your ribcage seeing if I could use it to cut strips of crepe paper into confetti and then I got lost in your kidneys. ”

“ There's nothing sexier than a doomed romance between a dating sim player and a hot fictional character. ”

“ That's right! I secretly replaced one of you with a bear while no one was looking, to teach you a valuable lesson about the art of disguise! ”

“ Enchant my armor. I’m going into the lake. ”

“ For VIOLENCE REASONS! ” 

“ This stupid lake monster called me short the other day, but I was too low level to crush him like he deserved. ”

“ That dumb wet dinkhole won't know what hit him! But it will be me! I will hit him! ”

“ No, YOU'RE a fuckshark! Also, what does that even mean?! ”

“ You seriously didn't notice the enormous needles those interns jabbed into your veins as soon as [NAME] got here? “

“ It all makes sense! The Camp Dome is just an elaborate ploy to distract us from the giant mouth that eats campers! “

“ This is the BEST show I've ever seen in my life, which is now at an end! “

“ Am I high, or did he just tell us EXACTLY how to foil his evil scheme? “

“ What, like a few severed heads and visions of my grandpa screaming in horrendous pain are gonna freak me out? Where I'm from, you can buy that stuff at IKEA. “

“ ERROR: Due to the sixth mass extinction, the slaying of leprechauns is inadvisable. “

“ Then why do I have half-finished scarves, decoupage, pot-holders, friendship bracelets, and a taxidermied rabbit in my skeleton? “

“ The wang elemental. ”

“ I also have an uncle who works at Nintendo as a copy machine! “

“ What flavor of ice cream AM I?! Now I gotta know. HA! You know what I should be? 'Pistachio.' Because my outside is HARD, but I'm full of NUT. “

“ I mean, life is a bit like... this sandwich! No, stay with me, I'm going somewhere good with this. “

“ A survival situation without any sexy fun time isn't worth surviving in the first place. “

“ Rut the RUCK?! ”

“ The ' ambulance of the heart ' is just a regular ambulance! Ambulances treat all organs! ”

“ Yeah, that's why I made sure that my so-called ' emotional armor ' was also ' actual armor '. “

“ And being yourself is the key to living your dreams, which is the key to self actualization, which is the key to being really good at sex! “

“ So hot I'd buy that even without free shipping. 10/10, call me some time. “

“ Hi, quick question: does it count as kidnapping if I'm abducting you so you can help me do a thing you already agreed to help with? “

“ I could be wrong, but are you just upset because you DON'T have a skeleton that's inside your body? “

“ I'm gonna get SO FUCKING RELAXED MY HEAD WILL EXPLODE! “

“ Whoah, whoa, hold up. You're fucking my grandma? “

“ No, [NAME], that is a popcorn bag full of more dynamite. Put it down. “

“ I hear that at least 70% of people on Patreon aren't murderers! “

“ If you want cash, just rob banks like the rest of us! “

“ Did it work? Do you feel any less horny? ”

“ FUCK YEAH, LET'S PUNCH THAT MOUTH IN ITS MOUTH! “

“ Yes... incidentally, we are no longer allowed to enter Italy. “

“ Is anyone else turned on right now? ”

“ Yes! Yes! I know what you're feeling! I suddenly see how marrying a corpse isn't okay! “

“ JUST LET ME IMPROVE YOUR SELF ESTEEM, MORTAL! “

“ Look, choose whatever you want, but I'm not responsible for whatever you put in your mouth. ”