#a few more memories fall by the wayside

[dilf-din]

I’m the Holy Water You Have Been Without

Frank Castle x f!Reader

18+ only, minors DNI. Ageless bios will be blocked

WC: 3350

Warnings/tags: angst and smut, insecure/self loathing Frank, light discussions of canon typical violence, Frank is an ass man and a tease, porn with plot bc that’s just who I am, Frank is also a simp and yaps during sex

Author’s note: title and inspo came from Fourth of July by Fall Out Boy. I’m deep in the Frank feels so expect at least a few more of these soon

Like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch or a whisper in the back of his mind at night, Frank found himself reaching out with desperate hands at the echoes of you that were left behind in his life. You were always just out of reach, the thing he wanted the most in this world, craved, even, now nothing more than a memory.

He thought of your laughter in his passenger seat, the lipstick stained coffee mug you sipped out of every morning, the routine you fell into together— late nights and early mornings. Whiskey heavy breath and teeth marks on your shoulders.

He longed to hear your sweet voice on his answering machine, calling just to check in. He missed the hell out of you.

He got so caught up playing cat and mouse with Billy that he let you slip through the cracks, and not a day went by that he didn’t hate his own fucking guts for it. His stupid ego, hell bent on destroying that piece of shit. He had a good thing and he fumbled it, just like he always did.

On the nights he missed you the most, Frank camped out on the roof of the building across from yours just to keep an eye on you, making sure none of his shit followed you home.

One May evening, he couldn’t take it anymore. Frank marched into your apartment building and punched in your floor number on the elevator pad, finger twitching nervously by his side as he made the long ride up. He had a black hood drawn to cover some of the fresh fading scars on his temples and cheeks. His hair was a little long for his liking, but he had held off on cutting it until he saw you again. You always liked it long on top, told him it made him look handsome, and his cheeks would flush red.

If this went south, he’d shave his head and keep it that way.

He laughed like a schoolboy with a crush when he was around you. You brought out a shyness in him that often fell to the wayside of his arrogance and no bullshit attitude. He could let his guard down around you, internally at least.

The hours you had spent consoling him about the past, the nights you had spent tangled up together, just sweat and hands and the softest skin he’s ever kissed— it all circled in his mind when he was alone, urging him to find you again

Frank shifted uncomfortably and tugged to readjust his jeans before the bell dinged to indicate it was time for him to get off. His feet carried him straight to your door. The muscle memory of love, if he could call it that. He’d never said it out loud. Couldn’t bear the thought of assigning such a concrete feeling to this. He was a man of impermanence. He had to be. It was necessary for his survival. But now that everything with Bill had blown over, and things had been quiet for months, he followed that tug on his heart back to your door. One last chance to make this work; he had to make this count.

All this buildup, and he couldn’t bring himself to knock. On light feet, he paced down the corridor a few times, psyching himself up to face you more than he ever did to take out a target.

It was late, nearing midnight. There was a chance you were asleep.

Frank decided to knock once. If you didn’t answer, he’d disappear and try to forget about you, hope you found peace without him.

Wiping his hands on his jeans, he reached up and knocked four times in quick succession, the way the two of you had agreed upon at the start so that you would always know it was him. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you this late at night. He stepped back for a second, and didn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he have brought you flowers? Christ, he didn’t even think about it.

Maybe this whole thing was a mistake and you would be asleep and he could move on, find something else to bury himself in.

But he very quickly heard the click of your lock, and the tall door pulled open.

“Frankie?”

“Heya,” he started quietly.

“Are you hurt?” your eyebrows knit together in concern.

“No, no. ‘M’alright. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course,” you swung the door open wider, allowing him space to walk in, and locked the it back behind him.

Your entire apartment was lined with windows. The kitchen and dining room formed a wide L shape surrounding the living area you were standing in. Your bedroom was adjacent to the front door with the kitchen island coming off the wall, allowing a view into the rest of the apartment.

Besides the warm light from the kitchen and the one beam of moonlight streaming into the back of the wide space, everything was dark and quiet. You were well above the street lights and the noise from below. It felt like you were the only two people in the world.

Frank swept his hood down and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He had rehearsed a hundred speeches to try to explain things, but now that he was here with you, he was at a loss for words.

You were in your pajamas, a cute little matching silk shirt and shorts set with your hair braided back and face bare. You stood with your arms crossed so that you wouldn’t throw them around the neck of the man you adored, the man who disappeared. The man you cried over and looked everywhere for. The man who didn’t want to be found.

The weight of a thousand questions hung in the air, and you didn’t know who would be the first one to break the silence.

“Can we talk?” he asked sheepishly.

Frank Castle was not a small man, but right now he looked like he had shrunk himself to come see you. He eyes looked remorseful, pleading even, but looks weren’t enough, you wanted to hear him say it.

You nodded as if to say “go ahead.”

“Listen, I don’t even know where to start, but you have to know that everything I did was to keep you safe.”

A typical Frank answer.

“I feel shitty about it. Real shitty. Not a day went by that I didn’t want to drop everything and run here,” he continued.

“So why didn’t you?”

That stung.

“You know it’s not that easy.”

“Nothing with you ever is,” you said with exasperation.

“I couldn’t have lived with myself if you got caught in the crossfire of that,” his voice rose slightly.

“I thought you were dead!” you burst out. The dam of tears that had been building since you heard him knock broke much more quickly than you had anticipated. Suddenly, streams were pouring down your cheeks. You sat on the arm of the chair behind you and buried your face in your hands while your body shook with weary sobs.

Frank was done hesitating. He crossed the path between the couch and coffee table, scooping you into his arms and settling into the chair with you in his lap.

“Baby,” he said softly.

He rubbed your shoulders while you cried and cried.

“I grieved you, Frank. When you stopped showing up, I— what was I supposed to think?” you said through a thick voice with bleary eyes.

“I know,” he said quietly.

“I’m not strong enough to do this again,” you whispered, “Not if it’s like before.”

“It won’t be. Baby, I fuckin’ promise. All that shit is over. That was the last loose end I needed to tie, and it’s dead and buried, has been for months.”

“Then why did you stay away?”

“I had to make sure it was safe,” his voice was thick and wavering now, tears welling in his own brown eyes and he blinked rapidly to keep them at bay.

“I couldn’t. I— not again,” he stuttered.

Memories of his family were surely replaying on a loop while he imagined the same thing happening to you. A hole in your head, your blood on the ground. His failure to protect laid out in front of him like some self fulfilling prophecy he never wanted to be a part of.

Frank lost count of the nights he drank himself numb, asking God why he wouldn’t just take him instead.

But now, there was you. He had someone to protect. The color was slowly seeping back into his world again, and that scared the shit out of him.

He looked at you intently, with glassy eyes and a trembling lip, begging you to understand.

You didn’t want easy. You wanted Frank.

Your heart softened, and you allowed yourself to embrace him back finally. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled his face into your shoulder, and he was immediately drunk off the scent of you.

He didn’t know what coming home felt like anymore, but this was the closest thing he had experienced in a long time.

“I fucking missed you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and releasing a shuddering breath.

“I missed you too,” you sniffled.

“I’ve been keepin’ an eye on you. Had to make sure nothin’ came after you.”

Hearing that from Frank made you feel safer, where with anyone else, it would have filled you with unease. Every time you were in public together, his hand was always firmly around your waist, guiding you by your lower back, or holding tightly to your own hand.

Vigilant eyes scanned over the top of every crowd. Sharp ears tuned to every noise and conversation.

He had never let anything bad happen to you on his watch.

“Followed you to work a few times, slept on that roof over there more than I care to admit.”

Always in the margins keeping watch.

“I hoped you were out there,” you murmured, cupping his cheek with one hand and rubbing a thumb gently over the peak of a mending scar.

Frank leaned greedily into the embrace, turning his neck to press kisses to your palm.

“I never let you outta my sight,” he pressed his forehead to yours, trying desperately to reign in his heightened emotions.

“I’m off tomorrow, will you stay?” you asked tentatively, half expecting him to have an excuse as to why he couldn’t.

“I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me,” he said firmly, like a promise. His eyes bore into yours so there would be no room left for doubt that he meant it.

Forever, you thought, sounded nice.

“I missed you,” you whispered once more.

“I missed you, baby girl,” Frank ran rough hands over the fullness of your thighs, cupping the underside of them with wide palms.

It was winter the last time you saw him. Now the weather was balmier during the day with a slight chill in the air at night.

“I’ve seen you in those pretty little sundresses,” he purred, “Been thinking about how nice it would be to come home to that, bend you over and stuff you full of me.”

You squirmed in his lap, searching for friction.

His hands moved up your form, lifting your shirt and brushing your ribcage with a featherlight touch.

“Would you like that, pretty girl?” he cocked his head to the side, a smirk across his face.

“Went home and touched myself thinkin’ ‘bout you when you wore that little blue one last week,” he pressed warm, wet kisses to your throat, “Nothin’ comes close to you though, sweetheart. Been craving you real bad.”

Desire tumbled around with nervousness inside of you.

You placed a firm hand on his chest.

“Wait. Promise me you’re really staying. Not just tonight,” your voice wavered on the final syllable.

“I promise. Until it all goes to shit, or you get sick of me, I’m yours, baby.”

“Show me,” you whispered against his earlobe.

Frank was done wasting time. He hiked you up by your thighs and plopped you on the dining table that sat behind the chair you were previously on.

Frank kissed you hungrily, desperately. The only thing that mattered was his lips on yours. It was like a moment carved out of time for just the two of you. His tongue slipped into your mouth early on, as he searched to be as close to you as possible. His warm hands slid up your back and pulled your pajama top off, tossing it to the side. He took eager handfuls of your breasts, rubbing callused thumbs over the sensitive peaks of your nipples, drinking in the noises you spilled into his mouth.

“There’s those pretty moans,” he smiled into your kiss, licking a stripe down your throat and trailing kisses between the valley of your breasts. You had missed the feel of his scruff against your skin, arching your back as he wrapped his mouth around one nipple, splaying his hand against your back to hold you steady.

When the pleasure almost became too much, you groaned out his name.

“I’m gonna take care of you sweetheart,” his voice rumbled as his knees hit the floor and he peeled your shorts down your legs.

“All this for me?” he smirked as he hooked your knees wider apart and licked straight down your cunt.

“Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he growled before plunging his full face into your heat. He devoured you like no one ever had. He licked you clean of your juices before turning his attention to your clit, circling it in a perfect rhythm.

“Frank,” you whined out. Your breath was quickening as you tried your best to keep your composure. Your thighs trembled around his ears, and he brought two firm hands up to your hips to hold you steady, his tongue unrelenting in its motions until your pussy was spasming around it.

You cried out, reaching to clutch the back of his head as you rode out your orgasm against his eager mouth.

He pulled away, face slick with cum, eyes darkened with desire.

“I missed that pretty pussy baby.”

“Please let me touch you. Please don’t make me wait,” you panted.

Frank wiped his jaw lewdly and licked his fingers clean.

You hopped down off the table and pushed him towards your bedroom.

“What’s the hurry,” he teased with a cocky grin as he walked backwards slowly.

“Take your pants off, asshole,” you pushed him again so the back of his knees hit your bed.

He shed his hoodie first then pulled his shirt over his head with one motion, revealing his tan, sculpted torso.

You ran your hands over his chest and shoulders, pressing kisses to his collarbone while his hands worked the belt buckle between you.

“D’you miss this cock, baby girl? The way it fills you up?” he pulled his pants down teasingly slow.

You flicked your tongue against his nipple drawing a groan from the back of his throat.

Frank kicked his boots and pants off into the corner and flipped your positions so you were back against the bed, his thick arms caging you beneath him.

You reached out to stroke his erection through his black boxers, the tip already soaking through the thin fabric, and another low groan rumbled out of Frank.

With two hands, you rolled them down his hips, allowing him to spring free. His cock rested against your lower belly while he kissed you again with more fervor than before. He caught your lower lip between his teeth while he pulled back to give you another devilish grin.

“Please don’t make me wait any longer,” you pleaded.

There was a second he looked like he was debating being the biggest tease known to man, or just giving in. Ultimately, the longing in your eyes caused him to cut the shit. He grabbed his cock with one hand and lined it up with your slit, rubbing it up and down a few times to coat the tip before pushing in bit by bit.

With every push, he sank deeper into you, giving you those long strokes that drove you both crazy.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he huffed, dropping his head to your shoulder, pulling almost all the way out then slowly back in, filling you to the hilt.

“Oh fuck,” you let out, digging your nails into his shoulder to anchor yourself as he quickened the pace.

Sweat was already coating his forehead as he pounded into you, lifting one of your legs with an iron grip on your thigh to get the deepest angle possible.

“You know I touched myself thinking about you too,” you gasped out as he sucked a dark mark into your neck.

“Jesus, baby. Tell me it didn’t feel as good as this,” he growled in your ear, his voice huskier than ever.

“Nothing feels as good as this,” you captured his mouth in a greedy kiss.

Frank tossed the chain with his wedding ring over his shoulder and pulled your chest flush to his as he continued to work his hips. He was so thick, and when you were filled to the fullest point you could take, you thought you might cry. Being wrapped up in his body was the closest thing to euphoria you had ever experienced.

“Turn around and let me see that pretty ass jiggle,” he hummed into your ear, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

You both rolled to reposition, squatting on your knees and elbows with your ass in the air.

Frank smacked one cheek and then the other, “God damn, what a pretty view.”

His voice was almost a full octave lower when you were having sex. It made you quake even more.

He slipped back into your heat and started hammering into you even faster than before.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Baby— that feels so fucking good,” you whined.

“I feel that pussy getting tighter. Let’s see if we can get one more out of it.”

With one hand firmly on your hip, he reached the other beneath you to circle your clit while his cock filled you up.

Your legs started trembling as you got closer and closer to another rush of pleasure.

“Just like that. Just like that. Just like that,” you breathed quickly.

“I know how my girl likes it. I know how my girl fucking LIKES it,” he grunted out as you tumbled over the edge. You clenched and spasmed around his cock as he continued to thrust into you.

“Shit,” he hissed.

“Where do you want me to come, angel?” he asked urgently.

“You can come in me, Frankie,” you whined, angling your hips to allow him deeper entry.

He started stuttering at your words, grabbing onto your other hip to steady himself as he spilled into you. You felt his cock twitch with pleasure until he finally pulled out. You collapsed forward, hugging a pillow to your chest.

Your limbs felt fuzzy and your eyes danced with stars as you came down from the high you had been chasing since he left. Frank landed hard beside you and pulled you back into his body. His strong arms crossed in front of you as your back rested against his chest.

“I’m sweaty.”

“Don’t care,” he panted, pressing a line of kisses to your jaw.

The sound of his breathing was like music to your tired ears. Each exhale sang, “I’m alive. I’m here.”

“Frank?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I missed you. I—“ you stuttered, unsure if you should finish the sentence.

“C’mere,” he pulled lightly on your shoulder so you could spin and face him.

“I want to look in your eyes when you say it,” he whispered, “I want to remember this right.”

Your gaze softened even more as you wiggled a hand up to caress his jaw.

“I love you, Frank Castle.”

He pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you, sweet girl.”

[thefrogdalorian]

The Best of Both Worlds: Chapter Eleven

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Summary: With your respective busy jobs keeping you and Din apart, a mystery date after a hectic day at work is exactly what you needed.

Word Count:  8.7k ❁ Rating: MATURE (18+ MDNI) ❁ Content Warnings:  Reader is blindfolded for a bit, mild smut (non-explicit sex), alcohol consumption. ❁ Author's Note:  So happy to finally get the next chapter of this baby up! It's been way too long. The second half of my first draft of the fic was a bit rougher than I remembered so the next few chapters need heavy editing. I now think there will be approx. 21 chapters and I hope to crack on with it this month! March was strange for me because I was productive in some ways but not in others haha and this fic fell by the wayside a bit. But cannot wait to get back to it! Anyway, thank you to @decembermidnight for looking over this one for me! I appreciate it 🩷

11. It Could Be Love, We Could Be The Way Forward [Reader's POV]

The realisation that you had fallen in love with Din Djarin did not hit you all at once as you had long suspected such a strong emotion would. In your childish imagination of how love felt, you imagined the feeling would strike you out of the blue one random day. Perhaps you would wake up with everything seeming a little brighter. A visual clue, impossible to ignore, so you would know that you had reached that point of no return. That moment when you both realised you were in love with him and accepted that inescapable fact. 

For you, the path to falling in love was not inherently straightforward. You reflected on the time when you had feared falling in love, that sense of vulnerability brought on by such a devastating emotion that would bring you to your knees and render you helpless and dependent on the affections of another. Love had seemed terrifying. Then Din had come into your life and, happily, loving him was nothing like you had feared in your worst moments. You were still your own person, but now there was another you wanted to share your life with. 

Falling in love with Din had not happened suddenly. The realisation that you were in love with him too had not been preceded by any particular event. No bolt of lightning shot out of the sky. No pink hearts appeared in your mind’s eye when he was close. Instead, it was a gradual thing. An emotion that crept up on you as the weeks passed and you spent more time with Din and, inevitably, Grogu. It was the warmth you felt settling in your chest whenever you were around them. Spending time in their presence always felt like it was the most natural, comfortable thing in the world. You never doubted yourself or how much Din enjoyed spending time with you. The way your mind had spiralled into the most insecure places after the night in the flat when Din had abruptly left after you seemed like a distant memory now. 

Fortunately, you and Din had been fortunate enough to have many opportunities to explore each other’s bodies and affirm your affection for each other since that night in your flat, even with a toddler around. Although your first time together in the shower had been somewhat frenzied and almost uncomfortably cramped, since then, you had discovered all the different ways Din could make love to you. You had found him to be a careful, attentive lover. Din had been almost shy at first and needed some reassurance. Thankfully, those days were long gone. He adored giving attention to you and making you feel good, even at the expense of himself at times. Din was so focused on your needs that he was content to neglect his desires and ensure your total satisfaction. 

Even on those nights when you were both exhausted after your respective draining days at work, Din would always make sure you came last. He would give you one last achingly gentle orgasm with his tongue or fingers before you drifted off into a peaceful sleep. It was just one of the many ways which made you realise that what you had built with Din was incredibly special. It was a relationship so unlike anything you had ever experienced before. 

It was just one of the many little things which, when taken in combination, made you realise you were in love with him. 

The time you spent with Din was a welcome reprieve from your hectic job at the museum. Working at such a prestigious institution meant it was busy year-round. Somehow, the historic building seemed to get even more crowded during the summer months. Aided partly by the local children's summer holidays. A devastating combination of kids, their parents and visiting tourists from all over the world meant things quickly got hectic. 

You were grateful that August would be over in a few days and give way to the quieter month of September when crowds would at least return to normal. Although you were excited for the crowds to subside, you would miss the summer, especially since you felt like you had spent most of the warm summer months cooped up inside a jam-packed museum. 

Din had always helped you make the most of it when your busy schedules aligned. He would once again tonight when he promised to pick you up after work and whisk you away on another mystery date.

First, however, there was another busy day of work to get through before you could spend time with the man you adored. It was a swelteringly hot day. The city had woken up to soaring temperatures. Most of its inhabitants would enjoy their days in the various parks, perhaps treating themselves to a dip in one of the bodies of water. You yearned to join them. Unfortunately, you would spend this beautiful day cooped up, supervising while ungrateful children and their parents traipsed around the museum. It would have been enough to sour anyone’s mood. Fortunately, you had something to look forward to at the end of the day.

As you walked through the impressive doors to the museum for yet another busy day of work, you already felt lighter knowing that you would see Din again in only a few short hours. You felt the familiar rush of butterflies in your stomach when you made your way through the museum. Particularly when you passed the spot where you and Din had first met all those months ago. It was slightly pathetic how much just being somewhere you had once been with Din could make you almost dizzy with glee. 

In the very spot where you and Din first met, you had a brief conversation with your security guard friend, Mo, who was clocking off from the overnight shift. Things had been so busy that you had not had time for a proper catch-up in several weeks, but he was delighted to hear that you and Din were still going strong. You would have chatted for longer but after a long and tiring shift, Mo seemed eager to leave for home. 

So, after only a few moments of conversation, you continued on your way to your office.  

When you finally reached your office, you discovered your boss was waiting for you. Usually, the sight of her hovering by your desk would strike fear into your heart as it spelt an increased workload. You knew you were one of the most efficient workers on the team, and that usually meant you were saddled with an increased workload. However, as you sat down and resumed the project you had been working on the previous day, you were pleasantly surprised by the reason for Julie’s visit.

“We’re inviting applicants to pitch ideas for exhibitions. I think it would be perfect if you created a pitch for us. I know you have some great ideas,” your manager, Julie, said encouragingly as she stood over your desk, where you were quietly preparing to work on categorising some Neolithic rock art. 

“Oh, I hadn’t heard about that,” you mumbled awkwardly. 

It wasn’t exactly true. You knew full well about it. You were simply too fearful of rejection to even try in the first place. 

“When is the deadline?” you asked, hoping it was too soon to even contemplate beginning from scratch. You knew you were attempting to self-sabotage. It was not going to work this time. Not when your boss cared for you so deeply. 

“The deadline is mid-October. Look, I seriously think you should contemplate it. I know you don’t want to be stuck in here, filing things away for the rest of your life,” Julie asserted. She was completely correct, and you felt shy under her gaze. The rock art suddenly looked far more appealing. “With your passion and drive, you’re already one of the best members of my team. I’d like to see you out there in the spotlight, flourishing. It’s what you deserve.”

“Thanks, Julie,” you nodded appreciatively. Even if you did not believe her words, you were still grateful for them. 

“Did anything ever come of those sunflowers you received, by the way?”

Her knowing smirk rendered you powerless to skirt around the subject. You knew that there was no point lying to her. She was just looking out for you, given the protective, maternal role she had assumed towards you when you had first moved to the big city at a relatively young age.

You wanted to brush off the comment and act nonchalant about the sunflowers and the man who had sent them to you. Yet the strength of your feelings meant it was pointless to even attempt to lie about it. Especially because you could feel your skin burning in shyness and the timid smile that crept across your face when Julie had brought up the sunflowers.

You knew that when you spoke about Din to your friends, your feelings were impossible to hide. Why should you have to hide? When Din had brought so much light and happiness to your life? 

There were so many things about him that made your heart soar. His sweet, gentle nature and how much he cared for Grogu. Every time he was near you, butterflies spread through your body, from your stomach to your chest. You cursed your respective busy schedules for keeping you apart from each other, but you were grateful that the stars had finally aligned and you would be able to see him in a few short hours.

“Things are going well, thank you,” you eventually replied, a small smile creeping across your features. “I’m actually seeing him tonight after work.”

“I’ll expect an invite to the wedding,” Julie teased, and you felt your skin burning even hotter. “Have fun tonight,” she said with a wink as she walked away.

Then you were left with your Neolithic rock art and thoughts of the kind brown eyes you had missed so much, and of the man who you were exceptionally eager to be finally reunited with after work. 

Tonight was a rare break in Din’s busy schedule. He was still as vague as ever about work. You hadn’t been able to see him the previous weekend. A fact which had frustrated you, but he had indicated that things were busy for him. You could tell how stressed he seemed, so you did not push him for any more details. 

Still, Ria, in particular, had made a massive deal over where Din lived, in the quaint village of Nevarro. Your best friend especially made a fuss since the home of the man you were dating happened to be located so closeby to the studios where your favourite TV show was filmed. 

You continued to tell yourself that it was just a funny coincidence, Din couldn’t have anything to do with your favourite show. At most, you believed he possibly worked at the studios as a security guard to the actors. It would explain his reasons for living nearby and his secrecy. You knew in your heart that it couldn’t be anything more than that.

Mercifully, you couldn't spend your day fretting about Din's line of work. You had quite enough of your own to contend with. The Neolithic Rock Art would not be categorised by itself. 

When you came into work that morning, you had expected that you would be left to your own devices at your desk, helping to categorise some exhibits that the museum had recently acquired. You thought you had gotten away from having a heavier workload inflicted on you. 

However, as lunch approached, Julie soon returned to your desk wearing a grim expression. Your stomach dropped. You instantly knew she was not here to tease you further about your relationship. 

Your fears were confirmed when she stated that several people had called in sick and you were required to take to the floors to assist visitors. You groaned, frustrated at your colleagues’ lack of consideration.

You suspected that the sudden plague which had afflicted so many of them had something to do with the sudden warm weather. A mini heatwave had struck London. The entire city was sweltering. 

You supposed you could not blame them for wanting to enjoy the day. After all, working in a museum could sometimes be a thankless task, especially with pushy parents and boisterous tourists. Even so, you felt it thoroughly unfair that it was diligent people like you who stuck to the rules that would have to pick up the slack. 

You knew Din had the day off and you would have loved nothing more than to spend the day with him and Grogu, perhaps enjoying a stroll around one of London’s numerous lush parks. 

Instead, you felt as though you could not abandon your post. So rather than enjoying quality time with your two favourite people, you would spend most of this beautiful day behind closed doors at the museum. 

Your mood did not improve as there was no end to the masses of screaming children and their parents who poured through the museum’s doors. You didn’t want to deal with any of them. You wanted time to speed up so you could reunite with Din.��

It took all your strength to keep going. You consoled yourself by anticipating that moment when you would lay eyes upon the tall, handsome man with the warm brown eyes that you had been so desperate to see. When you were faced with a wailing child or pushy parents demanding to know where various exhibits were, you managed to weather it all with a brave face and charismatic smile, knowing it would only be a few short hours before you were back with the man you were certain you had fallen in love with. 

A word with as many implications as that particular one of four letters would’ve terrified you a few months ago, perhaps when you felt more sceptical and closed-off to love. Back when you had no perception of how wonderful it could be. 

Now… you no longer feared love.

You loved Din. Admitting that to yourself felt as natural to you as taking your next breath. 

It was a thought that carried you through the rest of your dismal day...

✯✯✯✯✯

Finally, after another hectic afternoon, announcements were blaring all over the museum that informed visitors that doors would be closing in thirty minutes. There were now mere minutes separating you and Din. You lingered in the reception area, bidding a sickly sweet farewell to the guests as they left the museum behind. Once the doors finally shut behind the last stragglers, your day of work was complete. 

As you returned to your desk to collect your belongings, you determined tomorrow you would ask your manager if you could have a day away from people and return to your desk with your Neolithic rock art. 

However, when you strolled out of the museum, all thoughts of Neolithic rock art soon vanished from your mind. Your heart stopped for a second, stomach-churning as you struggled to pick Din out of the crowd that lingered, even a few minutes past closing time. But then you caught the unmistakable glimpse of the tall, broad frame and dark brown curls of the man you held such affection for. 

He was standing by the bench he had waited at when he met you for the first time outside work. The night when you swapped out a date at a fancy restaurant in favour of your preferred local noodle bar, with all its liquor. Tonight, however, you did not want to indulge in intoxicating beverages that would impair your senses or your enjoyment of your time with Din. You knew now that it was better if you left that lethal Chinese spirit and did not go within a fifty-foot radius of it. 

Din was leaning against the rails, wearing light brown trousers and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves pushed up, exposing his tan arms slightly. He looked so handsome, and you momentarily panicked that you looked underdressed. You had changed into a more comfortable outfit before meeting him, your work clothes stashed into the small backpack that you carried. As you skipped down the steps towards Din, his face lit up when he saw you. As it always did. 

Your heart soared at the sight of it and him. You had waited all day to see him. Now that he was right here, you couldn’t help breaking into a little jog as you closed the last few metres between the two of you. 

You threw your arms around his neck and pressed an eager kiss to his lips.

“Someone’s happy to see me,” Din laughed as he placed his large warm hands on your back. 

“I missed you,” you admitted, biting your lip as you looked up at him.

“I missed you too, Sunflower,” Din said, touching his nose to yours.

It was cheesy of the pair of you, especially considering the amount of people around. Plus the possibility of being seen by your colleagues at any moment, as they made their way home. But you didn’t care. Maybe it was the warm sunny evening. Or the realisation that you were in love. Whatever it was, you were positively giddy in Din's presence. 

Whenever you saw Din, you felt like a lovesick teenager. It was simultaneously a little unnerving while also electrifying to feel yourself loosen up and reconnect with parts of you that you thought were lost to time, to growing up.

“What’s the plan for this evening?” You asked with an attempted air of nonchalance as you moved to lace your fingers through Din’s. 

Usually, you liked to know exactly what you were doing and where you were going. You could be a bit of a control freak in that way. You had found as time progressed, as you had gotten to know Din better, that you trusted him entirely. You certainly trusted him enough to know whatever he picked for the two of you to do together, you would have a good time. 

“It’s a surprise,” Din said, raising an eyebrow in that way that you loved and looking down at you.

“Does it have anything to do with a picnic?” you questioned, nodding towards the basket he held in his other hand.

Din laughed and shook his head, “So observant.” He smiled at you, he couldn’t even feign being angry towards you for even a second. “Fine," he added, "The venue for said picnic is a surprise, though.”

“Knew it!” you exclaimed, getting a kick out of the fact you knew Din would be a little wound up by you having guessed his plan so easily. Like you, Din was meticulous when planning things.

“Since you’re so good at working things out, I brought something with me so it would be a surprise,” Din explained after you had stopped at a street corner. “The driver is going to pick us up here, but before we move in the car, I want you to put this on.”

Din took his hand out of his pocket and showed you a strip of material. You could glean from the context that it was a blindfold. This man was committed to your destination being a surprise. You knew from here that each direction led to different parks, so it made sense; he wanted it to be a surprise which way you were going.

“Committed,” you laughed as the black Mercedes pulled up. Din opened your door and helped you into the car, like the gentleman he was. Once you were seated, he carefully tied the soft material around your eyes.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Din asked.

“Six,” you replied jokingly. In reality, everything was pitch black. 

“Okay, I think she’s good. You can drive Boba,” Din laughed.

You should have felt slightly self-conscious that you were blindfolded in the back of a car. Perhaps you should have been panicking that this man with such a seemingly endless supply of wealth from a shady job held your fate in his hands.

Yet, as Din held his hand in yours, you did not feel an ounce of fear. You knew he would never do you any harm.

With your eyesight cut off, you found that your other senses heightened. So, you felt the slight rustling of Din’s clothes as he leaned in to trail light kisses along the column of your neck. 

“Din, please,” you breathed. You were mindful that there was a driver only a few feet away in the front, who would probably not appreciate his passengers entering into a passionate makeout session despite the privacy screen. 

However, all your protestations were cut off when Din held the back of your head and joined his lips to yours. The kiss deepened, and his tongue searched your mouth. You gasped at the sensation. It seemed that the few days you had been kept apart had only increased Din’s desire for you. He was desperate and needy for you, claiming your lips over and over, barely giving you time to breathe between each kiss. 

The consideration you had once held for the driver was replaced by a burning desire for Din to continue kissing you. You had no idea for how long your impromptu makeout session continued, getting lost in the touch of his lips against yours and the way his moustache tickled your upper lip in a way that never failed to produce a smirk from you. Given that you had no idea where you were headed or how long it would take for you to arrive at your destination, you felt the onus should have been on Din to cut things off when you drew nearer to where he was taking you. As it transpired, Din had been equally as engrossed in your lips as it took some sharp rapping on the screen, that separated the passengers from the driver, to finally break the two of you apart.

“We’re here…” a small voice said from the front of the car.

You felt your cheeks warming as you realised that you and Din had been caught furiously making out like a couple of teenagers. You had been so consumed by your desires that you had lost control of yourselves. 

It was only when you had arrived that Boba had finally interrupted the two of you that you had finally stopped. You were suddenly grateful for the blindfold as you weren’t sure that you could ever look the seemingly quiet and unassuming man in the eyes ever again. Especially given the evident embarrassment in his voice, undoubtedly caused by the sight of you and Din passionately making out in the backseat. 

Your cheeks burned furiously at the thought of how long Boba had been sitting there, waiting for the two of you. You were so mortified that you could feel your neck beginning to burn up, too. 

Fortunately, before your embarrassment could reach unbearable heights, Din took your hand in his and moved to exit the car with a quick, murmured: “Thanks, Boba.”

You focused on the way Din held your hand in his and his strong arm wrapped around your waist to distract yourself from the way your stomach lurched as you stepped out of the van, with your vision completely restricted. Din’s dedication to surprising you was admirable, but you wondered how long he would keep this up. Would you be allowed to see the general vicinity of where you were sitting to have your picnic, or would he make you keep it on until everything had been laid out perfectly? 

“It’s a bit of a hike to get to our destination,” Din explained as he squeezed your hand in his. “But I think it’ll be worth it. Are you alright, Sunflower?”

You weren’t sure whether Din was referring to your sensory deprivation or the events which had taken place with the driver who had ferried you to this unknown destination.

“I’m fine, Din,” you smiled happily, turning your face and hoping you had correctly angled your head so he could see your relaxed expression. “I can’t wait to see where you’re taking me.”

You had already deduced that you were in one of London’s many parks, given the noises you could hear and the unmistakable smell of grass that your heightened senses had been able to pick out in the absence of your sight. As you continued strolling along the grass, with only the warmth of Din’s hand to guide you, you suddenly found yourself quite relieved that you were unable to see the bemused, possibly judgemental looks probably being aimed in your direction. If the low hum of chatter, mingled with birds tweeting and the occasional laughter from children, were any indication, it appeared that there were plenty of people enjoying an evening in the park. You heard the unmistakable thunk of footballs being kicked as groups of children or teenagers enjoyed a game. 

There were certainly plenty of witnesses who were probably confused and possibly even slightly concerned at the sight of a man leading a blindfolded woman through the park. Fortunately, you were unable to see any of that. All you could hear were the pleasant sounds of people enjoying their evening in the London sunshine. A warm feeling settled in your stomach, due to the contentment you felt at being in such a place with a man who was showing such care towards you and putting so much effort into your date. 

As you continued walking, you noticed that what had begun as a gentle slope soon became a steep incline. You were reasonably sure that you had sussed out where Din was taking you. It was an incredibly famous spot in London where people flocked to – tourists and locals alike – on warm summer evenings such as this one. If you were correct, you were delighted with Din’s choice of location. 

“Wait here for a second, Sunflower,” Din said as the two of you came to a stop and his hand left yours.

You stood there awkwardly, listening with intrigue as the unmistakable rattling of various items of crockery was audible. Din was presumably lifting them out of the basket he had been carrying when he came to meet you at the museum. Time was indistinguishable as you stood there, waiting for him to finish setting up, your heart pounding in anticipation. 

Eventually, Din was ready for you to sit down. You smiled as he guided you down with his strong arms to take a seat on a cushion. The padded surface was a pleasant break from the dry grass. You were thankful to be afforded such a luxury, although you wondered how Din had managed to carry everything with him. Once you were seated, you heard Din grunting slightly as he sat down next to you and you smirked at the sound. The exertion of hiking up the hill laden with the picnic basket had taken its toll on him. 

“Ready?” Din asked.

You nodded. Immediately, you felt Din's nimble fingers moving to untie your blindfold. Your eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the sudden intrusion of light after so long in the darkness. Once your brain registered the sight before you, you gasped in wonder. Din had done an incredible job.

What was more, your instincts had been correct. You knew exactly where he had brought you. The venue for your picnic was the top of a hill which overlooked London, providing stunning panoramic views of the city. The sight before you was beautiful, with the twinkling red lights atop the skyscrapers in the City in the distance providing the first stars as the cloudless sky shone pale blue colour. Night would soon descend over the city, and the lights from the buildings would be joined by millions of twinkling stars in the night sky. 

“Primrose Hill!” you exclaimed in delight as you instantly recognised your surroundings.

“You know this park?” Din asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“Of course, it’s one of the most famous parks in London,” you smiled.

“This was the spot everyone recommended to me to bring you for a picnic,” Din murmured as he looked down, avoiding eye contact. His brows firmly knitted together. You thought he seemed slightly disappointed that he had brought you somewhere you had already heard of. But you weren’t disappointed, not even in the slightest.

“You asked for recommendations?” you asked, touched by how thoughtful he was. 

“I did,” Din nodded. If you weren’t mistaken, he seemed to flush a little in embarrassment.

“Well, their recommendations were brilliant,” You said reassuringly, with a smile. 

“Really?” Din asked, chewing his lip as his big brown eyes met your gaze.

“Of course,” you nodded. “I’ve heard of this park but never made it here before. I’m touched that you put so much thought into where to bring me. Thank you, Din.”

“You’re welcome, Sunflower,” Din smiled. Any apprehension appeared to have vanished. “I just wanted to make sure you had the best time.” 

“Any time I spend with you is always the best,” You admitted as you looked at the array of food spread out on the blanket before you, suddenly feeling nervous. You knew that you loved Din as sure as you knew the sky above you was blue, but you weren’t yet sure whether you were brave enough to vocalise such a fact.

You busied yourself by tucking into the delicious array of food that Din had laid out for you while he uncorked the bottle of wine he had brought and poured you both a glass. After a long, stressful day of work, you relished being pampered by your attentive date. The conversation was light. There was lots of laughter as the two of you enjoyed your picnic. Spending time with Din was a welcome relief after your hectic schedule. You did not realise how greatly you had missed his company until you were in his presence again. Although you regretted that you could not spend more time with him since you would have to return home tonight in preparation for work in the morning, you tried not to let that depressing thought cloud your enjoyment of the moment. 

Instead, you took another sip of the expensive wine that Din had brought to accompany your picnic and looked out, appreciating the view. You watched as the pale blue sky began to be tinged with pale oranges and reds and the tall office buildings of the City gradually began to turn their lights on. Down below in the park, the lampposts that lit up the paths up the hill began to twinkle like the stars in the sky, which gradually became more visible as the sun set over the city. 

You gazed at the other people who were enjoying the evening just as you and Din were, sitting on the lush green grass of the park. Even in the impending twilight, you could see people of all ages enjoying their evenings just as you and Din were. Couples and groups of friends were sitting around and sharing drinks just like you and Din. Several families lingered despite the relatively late hour, with evidence of their picnics remaining on the blankets they shared. Various games were going on, with teenagers throwing frisbees or having a kick around with a football. The scene in the park was truly a slice of life, representative of this vibrant city.

When you and Din had finished your food, you sat back and enjoyed each other’s company on the warm summer evening. There was no pressure, no expectations on either of you. For a few blissful hours, you were able to leave your hectic lives behind and enjoy each other’s company. As the sun set, you looked over at Din. His striking features bathed in the golden light emanating from the sky. He looked so handsome from this angle, especially since his strong profile was in full view. That gorgeous nose that you thought looked like it was straight from the Roman sculptures section of the museum, his plush lips, strong jawline smattered with his patchy facial hair. 

You appreciated every single detail of him, down to the curls that trailed down the back of his neck and even onto his neck. Din had allowed his hair to grow longer recently and you thought it suited him, he looked dashing and sophisticated with his current hairstyle. You yearned for him to look at you, but his warm brown eyes were appreciating the stunning view. 

Although you wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss him, you remained unsure about how Din felt when it came to displaying affection so publicly, so you held back. Electing, instead, to tell him just how much you had appreciated his effort in organising this wonderful evening.

“This was an amazing idea, Din. Exactly what I needed after a hectic day,” you finally said appreciatively. “Plus, I finally made it to Primrose Hill, so everyone can stop bugging me to come here!”

“I’m surprised you haven’t been here before, considering it’s so famous,” Din chuckled as he placed a berry in his mouth. Although the plates had mostly been polished off, the two of you were still picking at the remains of the food as you sat there.

“Me too. Everyone always says it’s the best place to come in London for the view but I just… I never made it, despite how close it is to work,” you shrugged as you picked a berry up for yourself, “Kind of silly, really.”

“Yeah, you are kind of silly,” Din teased, letting out an exaggerated yelp when you leaned across the blanket to punch his arm lightly in retaliation. 

You were closer to him now, trapped in his gaze as he loomed over you, looking down at you with a smile on his face. 

Then, as if in slow motion, he reached down to cup your chin, pointing your face towards his. Din closed the gap between you, his eyes fluttering shut while yours remained open until the last second. When his lips met yours, it was as if the park and the city itself had suddenly emptied. There was nothing and no one else that mattered. Only Din and his soft lips as they moved so gently against yours.

You had been self-conscious about kissing him in the park and wanted it to stay chaste, especially given that you were in public and had already been busted once tonight; but as the kiss continued, it was as though a switch had been flipped in your head. Kissing Din like you were in desperate need of oxygen. As if you didn’t kiss him you would die. It was a primal, all-consuming desire. You needed him badly. Your hands reached up and tangled in his hair, feeling the soft curls there at the back of his neck. He groaned as he leaned into your touches more and more. You let out a moan yourself from somewhere deep inside. A noise that seemingly changed something for Din.

He pulled away from you.

The last time he had pulled away from you when you were making out so passionately in your flat, all the fire had vanished from his eyes. The lust and desire were gone in an instant. This time, however, he was looking at you with such an intense look that it sent a bolt of desire somewhere deep inside you.

“Do you… ahhh… wanna get a hotel?” Din asked breathlessly. His tone was desperate as he looked at you, his brown eyes darkened with lust.

All thoughts of saying no, insisting that you would not do a walk of shame into work the following morning as you wore the same clothes two days straight, died on your lips when Din leaned in and kissed them again as if offering you a preview of what the night promised if you only said yes. 

“Yes, Din,” you whispered when he pulled away, tracing his jawline with your fingertips.

Din nodded and closed his eyes as if to compose himself. Then he was up like a shot, clearing the blanket of the remnants of your picnic and stuffing it into the basket as though he were a man possessed. You were stunned by how quickly Din managed to pack up the picnic, considering the eternity it had seemingly taken to set out, as you stood there blindfolded. After what felt like mere seconds, his large hand was in yours once again. Din practically pulled you back down the hill as you made your way towards the waiting car. His stride was so long it felt like you could barely keep up with him. You practically squealed in delight at his determination as he led you towards the park’s exit. You could tell from his haste how desperate he was to be alone with you. His desperation set your skin ablaze. To know that you were so desirable to him, that he had almost been driven crazy with lust for you was incredibly alluring.

The car journey to the hotel was mercifully short, especially considering you and Din could barely keep your hands off each other. Fortunately, things did not escalate to an indecent level before you made it to the hotel. As you pulled up outside the luxurious building, you recalled the first time you had been to this hotel. How nervous and uncertain you had been. Now it seemed like you had been here many times. Although the wine had given you a pleasant buzz and perhaps made you giggle a little bit more freely, you were certainly not feeling the effects of baijiu like you were that night. Tonight the only heat in your belly came from your desire for Din. 

“Wait here for a second, Sunflower,” Din whispered before he pulled away from you and swiftly exited the car.

You sat there for a few moments, puzzled by Din’s sudden change in demeanour. For a man who seemingly couldn’t keep his hands off you, he was suddenly evasive and clearly, for whatever reason, wanted to check in by himself. The in-joke that you had with yourself and a few friends that Din was secretly a mafia boss came back to you, imagining him paying cash for the most opulent suite and you were secretly at the centre of a massive money-laundering operation. You were about to pull your phone out to text Ria your current predicament, but the sound of the car door opening pulled you from your wandering mind. 

Your favourite maybe-mob-boss had returned to the car and collected you before your daydreams could become even more intricate. Din had swept your bags up and guided you out of the car before you even had a chance to think further about why he had left you alone. 

Din’s large hand was splayed across the small of your back as he guided you through the lobby. You barely had the chance to take in the ornate furnishings of this most extravagant of hotels before you were in the elevator and Din’s lips were on yours again. He was relentless and needy, moaning into your mouth as he kissed you roughly. Your hands flew to his chest, finding a way through the buttons of his white dress shirt to move across the expanse of his firm, muscular chest. You had no idea if there were cameras in this elevator. You soon found that you didn’t care.

Din’s arms had found their way around your waist, holding you to him. You could feel the evidence of his arousal already. Mercifully, before things could go any further, the familiar ding indicated that you had arrived at your floor. As the doors opened, you and Din pulled apart.

Then, you were stumbling down the corridor together. Din’s arm firmly locked around your waist for your benefit, to keep you upright given how breathless and lightheaded your journey in the lift had left you. Din fumbled with the keycard desperately. You brought your hand to his wrist, steadying it as he finally found the knack for the stubborn door.

“Thanks,” Din grunted. 

You were barely in the room, without even a second to appreciate your opulent surroundings, before his lips were on yours again, his large frame pressing you into the door. You moaned at how desperate he was for you. Here you were with a spacious, almost palatial room, and you had barely taken two steps in before you had found yourselves making out with such ferocity that you were barely able to remain standing. 

Despite how much you wanted Din, the last vestiges of your rational mind broke through from somewhere deep within you. You realised that you didn’t want this. You wanted him properly on the bed. The shower had been frenzied and hurried as you had both given into your animalistic desires for each other. It had been your first time together. Although you relished that memory, you wanted to take your time. It had been a while since you had seen Din, so there was a real temptation to give in to your desires.

Even though allowing him to continue at such a frenzied pace was a tantalising prospect. With a luxurious suite at your disposal, you knew, this time, you wanted to savour the moment. So, you pressed your hand to Din’s firm chest and pushed him lightly. Din pulled away from you, his pupils blown, lips swollen from the kisses and face flushed with desire. Concern was immediately evident on his face and in his eyes, clearly worrying that he had done something to make you uncomfortable. Despite the passion he felt for you, you knew that Din would never want to push it too far and do anything to hurt you. It was nice to know how much he cared.

“Din, we have an enormous room with a spacious, comfortable bed. Let’s make the most of it.” You said, leaning in to kiss him again, to show that you were not uncomfortable with how things had progressed.

You pulled away and Din nodded in understanding, reaching for your hand and leading you through the spacious suite until you made it to the bedroom. It was enormous, a four-poster bed with the softest sheets on. You wanted to savour Din and this place like he was a delicious feast, not a microwave meal that you wolfed down and then hated yourself for. As he moved to unbutton his shirt, you slid your clothes off, grateful to finally peel your work outfit from your body.

You saw the way he stopped what he was doing, his eyes glazed over as he took in your body. The way he looked at you almost made you feel shy, you would never have believed that someone could gaze at you so reverently, let alone someone as handsome and charismatic as Din Djarin. Yet, here he was, looking at you as though you were the most beautiful person in the entire world. 

You were so caught up in your emotions that you almost struggled to complete your task. Fortunately, Din noticed you struggling and lent a hand. He softly kissed each inch of your skin as he removed your clothes and revealed more of your body to him. 

Din worshipped every inch of you that was gradually bared to him like you were some kind of deity.

Once you stood before each other, wearing nothing except shy smiles, you met each other on the bed. As you lay next to each other on the spacious silken sheets, you resumed the passionate, frenzied kisses that had first begun on Primrose Hill. 

Gestures which were always destined to lead you here, such was the magnetic pull between you and Din. You did not fight it. You allowed yourself to be pulled into him. He caressed your body with his hands. His large hands traversed your bare skin so softly. Din touched you so reverently, making you feel every inch as beautiful with his touches as he did with the way he looked back at you. 

When the kisses on your lips were no longer enough to satisfy his desire, Din hovered over you, like a hunter over its prey. You quivered with anticipation as his lips traced a trail down the column of your throat, your chest and then lower… and lower… 

Your back arched off the bed involuntarily, desperate for him to put his mouth where you most needed it. You whimpered his name and felt him smirk against your lower stomach, the tease. You smirked in return as Din’s facial hair brushed against your skin too, the sensation would have been ticklish were you not so aroused. Then, he resumed his task, continuing to trail a path down your stomach. You practically wanted to scream with desire as he kissed a path across the inside of your thighs.

As Din placed his mouth between your thighs, your head fell back on the pillow. You gasped in delight and threaded your fingers through his soft curls as you gazed up at the ceiling. 

You felt like the luckiest woman in the entire world…

✯✯✯✯✯

The warm, orange light which streamed through the crack in the curtains bathed the pair of you in its soft glow. As you turned your head from where you currently lay on Din’s warm, firm chest to look at him, you felt your heart swell at the sight of him. With the way the light hit him, illuminating his tan skin and strong features, he was breathtaking. You couldn’t believe that he was all yours. 

You didn’t want to get up and start your day, but you knew you had to. Your alarm wasn’t set to go off for another half hour, so you took this time to enjoy the simple pleasure of being wrapped up in the arms of the man you loved, listening to the soft sounds of his gentle snores. You thought about kissing him and waking him up so you could continue the exploration of each other’s bodies that the two of you had indulged in for hours last night. But he deserved his rest, especially after how well he had taken care of you the previous night. So you decided to leave him be, just enjoying his presence.

You thought it was funny that the last time you had woken up in this hotel with Din, you had worried that in your drunken stupor, your relationship had reached a level that you had no recollection of. There was no doubt, no wondering now. This time, you remembered the previous night perfectly. 

Din had been so tender with you, making you feel so loved and taking care of you thoroughly. You must have had four or five hours of sleep, maximum. Yet, somehow, you felt as energised as if you had slept for a week. With this magnetic force of a man by your side, you felt as if anything was possible. Including, it seemed, forcing yourself out of bed and attempting to be enthusiastic about the day of work which lay ahead for you.

As you finally got out of bed and headed towards the shower, you heard a sleepy Din calling your name. His husky, deep morning voice sent a pang of desire coursing through your veins. Your body was instantly ready for him, wetness pooling between your thighs. Unfortunately, as much as you wanted to climb back into bed with Din, you did have to go to work. Quickly padding back across the suite and saying good morning to him wouldn’t hurt, though.

“Good morning, Din,” you smiled as you cupped his stubbly jaw with your hand and placed a soft kiss on his plush lips.

“Come back to bed,” Din said, reaching out to hold your hand and doing his best impression of a helpless stray puppy as he stared at you with big brown eyes.

“I can’t, Din,” you giggled.

“Please,” Din pouted, “It’s so warm and comfortable. There’s plenty of room.”

“Din,” you whined. “Believe me, I want to… but I have to go to work.”

“Kiss?” Din pleaded, still looking at you with his big, brown eyes.

“Always, for you,” you smiled, leaning down to kiss Din. He cupped your chin gently and brought his lips to yours softly. At the touch of his lips to yours, you were on fire for him.

All protestations about needing to get ready for work were soon replaced with breathy moans as you let Din pull you into bed and pick up where you left off the previous night. You didn’t even care that you had to shower in two minutes nor that you had to sprint into work after the car dropped you off in the same clothes as the previous day. 

✯✯✯✯✯

Later, as you lay in his arms, your breaths finally slowed down and your breathing pattern returned to normal. You felt truly content, happy to enjoy the silence. You had expected that you would be the first to speak, eventually breaking it with apologies that you really had to leave. So you were certainly not prepared for the next words that Din uttered.

“You’re so perfect,” Din whispered as he nuzzled into your neck, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Then, as if realising the implications of the words he had just uttered so carelessly in the blissful stillness of the early morning, he froze up and pulled back from you. 

“I’m so sorry,” Din said, his eyes widened in horror at his words.

“No Din, don’t be silly,” you admonished as you pulled his face back towards yours.

As if to shut him up from any further stupid babblings, you brought your lips to his for a slow, gentle kiss. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his.

“I love you too, Din Djarin,” you whispered, unable to stop the way your lips curved into a smile around the strong, alliterative sounds of his name.

Din broke into a grin then. The dimples in his cheeks were suddenly evident, as were the crinkles around his eyes that you loved so much. He looked so handsome and boyish, especially with his mussed hair from sleep. 

“Well then, I must be the luckiest man in the entire world,” Din smiled, bringing your lips to his again in another kiss. 

Regretfully, before things could progress any further, you really did have to rise from the bed to get ready for work. Despite Din insisting that there was plenty of room for two, you made sure he kept in bed so that you might actually make it to work on time. Your activities and love declaration already meant that you were cutting it fine as it was. There was no way you could delay your exit further. 

When you finally left the hotel after another round of whispered, “I love yous,” followed by achingly sweet kisses and headed off for work, you did not feel the usual anxiety or dread that you usually did in the pit of your stomach. You were elated that your relationship had finally taken on a new form with the three words that you had been so desperate to say to Din. 

There were no longer any fears of unrequited love. You and Din were both on the same page. It felt as though your worries had evaporated at the knowledge that Din Djarin was in love with you.

The breaking of dawn had shepherded in a new stage of your relationship with Din.

For now, the anxieties of work; of colleagues, of screaming children were forgotten. All you cared about was Din and how happy you were that he was all yours. You trusted this man entirely. You would go to the ends of the earth for him. He made you feel happiness like no one else. 

You only hoped this feeling would last forever.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @rosepascal @survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing

[shovelbug]

Spinel x Reader General Romantic HCs

Despite his somewhat... sleazy tactics while on the job, Spinel is actually quite courteous when it concerns the person he loves.

You just happen to be that person.

He spends as much time with you as he can; sometimes working under Gibeon makes his presence scarce, so he tries to make up for it the best he can.

Speaking of his job... if you aren't also a part of the Explorers, Spinel probably won't tell you about the nature of his work.

He says he's something like a private investigator, to explain all the equipment and the time he spends in front of a screen.

It's not that he enjoys lying to you, but Spinel is all too aware of the dangers that come with his line of work, and the last thing he wants is for you to be caught in the crossfire.

When he does have to leave, he'll leave his Beheeyem and Magneton to watch over you if possible, just in case.

He trusts you and your pokemon's ability to keep yourselves safe if something did happen, but he does worry. It's more for his own conscience and to know if something goes wrong, so it's best to just humor him.

Calls you "dear" or "dearest."

Please pull this man out of his office to stretch his legs and get some sun, he spends too much time in the dark staring at a screen.

It takes some convincing to get him to take a break, though. But it's worth it.

"Just a few more minutes, dearest, I promise. I just have to finish this one last report..."

"You said that same line 10 minutes ago, Spinel. You're taking a break."

He concedes when his Umbreon starts to fuss at him.

He truly is grateful for your concern, though. He feels much better when you make him eat something and you two go out for a walk.

"What would I do without you, my dear?" Followed up by a kiss on the cheek.

Rest in peace to anyone who decides to mess with you.

Especially if he is there to witness it.

You'd just be out with him shopping or just enjoying the atmosphere in town, and maybe someone makes a comment.

And maybe Spinel has his Beheeyem wipe their memories while he distracts you by pulling you toward a stand.

It's fine, it's only temporary, after all. Just a bit of a warning to not disturb his dear partner again, and you're none the wiser.

Spinel prides himself on his work and cool, calm and collected attitude. The only time that falls to the wayside is a particularly interesting development in his work, or if you are threatened.

Spinel becomes frightening if that happens. He'll annihilate anything and anyone in his way to ensure your safety and wellbeing.

If you are there to witness it, it's shocking. It's very different to the Spinel that gently greets you in the morning with an adoring gaze and sweet words.

When he reaches you, though, his attitude is the same as it's always been towards you.

Gently takes you in his arms and holds you close, scanning you carefully for any signs of distress or injury.

"Oh dear, are you alright? I'm so sorry it took me so long to find you. Rest assured, it's all taken care of."

[7grandmel]

Rip of the week: 17/06/2024

The Legend of Cage: Staff Roll

Season 6 Featured on: The Legend of Cage: Beneath the Mask Official Soundtrack

Ripped by Grambam36, Ashley, minindo, MJ, smileyshirt

Requested by crickqt! (Discord)

Y'know, I thought long and hard about what rip to return to the blog with, a month away from it all. At first I felt like doing something grand and triumphant, something truly important to the channel's legacy like a Season premiere or finale, something in the spirit of A love letter to this wonderful community and my amazing friends or File Select Fusion Collab. But then I started going down the opposite path, maybe to celebrate the one-year anniversary of the Snowball Park - Super Mario 3D World post and by extension the one-year anniversary of this whole blog, I ought to feature something just as irony-filled, a subversion of all your expectations, a big meme-fest all around. That was appealing in some way, but both of these ideas felt like two opposite-end extremes of SiIvaGunner's whole, neither felt like the right way to truly embody what I love about the channel enough to be befitting for the blog's "revival." And it was then that I realized that the most explosive way I could return with was with something I'm truly passionate about, something I've had bubbling internally as something I've wanted to cover ever since the beginning, but never found the right opportunity to truly get into. A feature months in the making, is at last here.

That's right - it's time to finally talk about The Legend of Cage, and The Legend of Cage: Staff Roll.

A lot of what makes SiIvaGunner such a rewarding channel to follow is how well it remembers... just about every one of its thousands upon thousands of loose threads, ones woven since all the way back in 2016. It's as if every rip posted on the channel is bound to end up receiving some sort of tribute years down the line a la Violet Snow Memories, or alternatively rips lead to in-jokes perpetuated by individual rippers that then end up catching on as background gags alongside the channel's typical operations like with guess what​?​?​?​?​?​?​?​?. And due to its nature of allowing just about anything from anyone to be uploaded, Season 1 was when this was at its absolute peak - so many of the channel's ongoing running gags began all the way back during its first year due purely to the whims of individual rippers. The joke with The Legend of Cage stems from an in-joke with content creator Criken, wherein one thing led to another and after three years of development we'd end up receiving a texture pack wherein all faces in the game were replaced with variations of Nicholas Cage. The year was just the same as SiIvaGunner Season 1 - 2016 - and just a few weeks after the texture pack released, the joke breached the Vinesauce barrier through a stream by Vinny - and barely a week after that, the SiIvaGunner member kyokuP struck gold with Cage Town, First Day. It was hardly amidst Season 1's most popular videos - after all, it required knowledge of like three seperate rabbitholes of in-jokes and investment into Vinny Vinesauce's most recent streams at the time, but it was a bit that wound up sticking - as Season 1 progressed, more and more Majora's Mask videos wound up releasing, almost all of which continued the bit that kyokuP started.

Like a lot of these less-prominently-pushed Season 1 bits, it wound up falling to the wayside as the channel moved on with a more narrowed focus during Season 2. But, as is always the case, the SiIvaGunner team never forgets, there's always SOMEONE on there who's attached to the silliest of things - and one legend by the name of GramBam36 took it upon himself at the start of Season 3 to bring back The Legend of Cage-posting in full force. From Season 3 onward, due in huge part to the enthusiasm expressed by one of the channel's coolest rippers (seriously, this is now my 7th post on a Grambam36 rip, SUNGORE and this are only scratching the surface), one of the channel's most bizarre jokes was back on its feet - two years later, the original Criken bit, the Vinesauce stream that inspired it, had all been mostly forgotten, yet the show kept going on. Rip by rip, slowly, the soundtrack to The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask grew closer and closer to completion, each of its many tracks given a Cage-ification due purely to the commitment to the bit. And, again, to reiterate: No special attention was being drawn to these rips whatsoever. Like with Collision Chaos Good Future JP [CD Beta Mix] and so many other nuggets in SiIvaGunner's back catalogue, this was purely a passion project underway as the channel's gears kept turning at standard speed. That was, at least, until the final stretch of Season 6, and the SiIvaGunner All-Star Nuclear Winter Festival.

The Nuclear Winter Festival (aka "DoomFes") is a whole other can of worms to get into that's far too large for the scope of this post, but the most important throughline to it (and the Season as a whole) was a sense of...bittersweet finality, for lack of a better word. We all knew deep down that the channel itself wasn't ending, but every part of DoomFes felt specifically focused on tying up loose ends, giving us closure to threads left dangling for all too long. The Metal Gear SGFR album, Paper Jams, the SiIvaGunner AI storyline a whole, all things that felt like coming full circle at long last - and, amidst it all, was a silly little event focused on a 6-year old channel in-joke finally reaching its climax. With The Legend of Cage: Beneath the Mask Official Soundtrack, and with The Legend of Cage: Staff Roll, it was finally time to finish off what was started all those years ago. The joke of putting Nicholas Cage textures into Majora's Mask had taken three years to realize - and after double that time, the SiIvaGunner team was at last able to match the texture pack's visuals with something just as quality in a full-soundtrack remix album, with The Legend of Cage: Staff Roll sitting as the proud crescendo to it all.

It's easy to forget all of this borderline-sappy lore when actually experiencing the rip in question - It is, for all intents and purposes, the culmination of six years worth of Cagey goodness. Led by Grambam36 alongside incredible rippers like minindo of Beautiful Dreamer fame, we're at last given a The Legend of Cage rip with full-on YTPMV visuals, in turn helping depict the rip as a journey throughout the entirety of Majora's Mask, as its medley-like nature of Majora's Mask Staff Roll theme allows it to revisit some of the all-time classic Cageposts very seamlessly. It feels celebratory, of course, due to the very tone of the Staff Roll theme in general, but also due to all the aforementioned context of where Cage-posting was on SiIvaGunner during Season 6 - this event, the one effectively marking its death, was the first time this dumb running gag had really been given special attention by the channel, yet that was part of what made it all so special. I wasn't an "avid" listener of these per se as someone who hasn't played Majora's Mask myself, but I knew of their existence, it always made me happy to keep seeing them crop up - and The Legend of Cage: Staff Roll was the most perfect sendoff these rips could've ever hoped to get.

There's so much to dig into with the rip's quality itself that I don't know where to begin. The rip's opening is front-loaded with such well-done adaptions of iconic Cage sounds, the "Can-can-I get my prescription, PLEASE!!" interlude has stuck with my head ever since I first heard the rip and it only continues from there with Cage sounds being used for just about every part of the original song, the lead, the percussion, the accents, everything. Particularly in this opening section, it slots into my absolute favorite flavor of YTPMV a la The Streamer, where vocal bits from the sources used are audible to a degree where you could reasonably sing along to the song being used. It's all just as much of a delight to hear here, going through the classics of "NOT THE BEES", "A-B-C-D-E-F-K", "Prickly Pear" - yet the rip, as a collab ought to do, escalates into really fun alternate takes on Cageposting, with different visuals, different samples used in different ways, yet all still celebrating the meme's weird yet ever-present legacy on the channel.

Even a year and a half removed from The Legend of Cage's official first and last tribute on SiIvaGunner, I'm still not quite sure where it sits with the fans. The Legend of Cage: Staff Roll, as the most perfect distillation of everything the project ever aimed to be with fantastic visuals to boot, only barely cracked ten thousand views - the original Cagepost that started it all in Season 1 still just below fifty thousand. It was, contrary to the sounds used within the rips themselves, never the loudest meme, nor a very intrusive one, yet it was part of a running gag that was just so fun to see still go on years after its intended legacy passed, with SiIvaGunner's band of YTPMVs teaming up to finish the fight that a bored Season 1 contributed started. Even though it was far from the most popular gag, Grambam36 remembered and absolutely ran with it: and that, to me, is the kind of energy you can only truly get here on SiIvaGunner.

(( And, of course, the kind of energy you'll find with many of its lunatic fans, like myself ;] ))

[mymoonagedaydream]

Part 5

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language, anti-religious sentiment throughout

Author’s Note: So I would’ve posted earlier but I wrote this whole chapter once and then accidentally deleted the whole thing without a backup. Could’ve murdered someone. Anyway, here’s version 2.0.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

---

Soft sunlight bled through the gaps beneath the blinds and caused your eyes to flicker open. As they adjusted to the brightness, the slightly stained roof of the trailer came into focus. Only a few more seconds passed before memories of the night before began to trickle back into your mind, prompting you to smile to yourself, stretching your arms out sideways with a groan. Your blissful mood dissolved, however, when they both dropped straight onto the mattress. There wasn’t another body there to break their fall, you were alone.

You jerked upright and started scanning the inside of the trailer for any signs of life. The bathroom door was wide open, no inhabitants there. Maybe he was having a cigarette outside? Wrapping the sheet around yourself and scooching over to the window, you tugged gently at the blind and peeked through the gap, but you couldn't see him outside either. It took you another second to clock that his bike was missing too.

A mild panic started to set in as you were unable to prevent hundreds of depressing scenarios racing through your mind simultaneously. Why would he drive off without saying anything? Why didn’t he leave a note or wake you? Was he planning to sneak out on you like this all along? Was this even his trailer? 

You gathered your clothes, dumped unceremoniously in a pile on the floor, and threw them on. Your muscles were tense and your fingers were starting to shake. Taking a few deep breaths, you tried to calm yourself down, but you struggled to fight off the intrusive thoughts. The rational part of you knew that he’d probably just nipped out quickly, that he’d return soon, but in the back of your mind you couldn’t stop worrying that he’d got what he wanted and left for good. You spent the next fifteen minutes searching, pacing and overthinking until finally you heard a motorbike engine approaching in the distance. A wave of relief hit you.

‘Oh hey,’ Bucky came through the door with a paper bag full of groceries, circled an arm around your waist and planted a kiss on your cheek, ‘I grabbed a few things from the store, figured you were probably tired of hot dogs.’

He waltzed over to the kitchen and dropped his cargo, beginning to unpack what he seemed to think was a successful trip's worth of food. You were distracted for a second, wondering how he figured a meal consisting of sliced cheese, M&M's and garlic mayonnaise would be an improvement on hot dogs, but that issue quickly fell by the wayside as your eyes wandered up to his face. You moved over to the counter and lent yourself against it.

‘You didn’t wake me up, I would’ve come with.’

‘You’ve never seen yourself sleeping, waking up that face would'a felt like slapping a puppy.’ Chuckling, he glanced over, noticing that you were a little subdued. He squinted, ‘were you worried?’

You slid your hands into your pockets, trying so hard to look relaxed that you probably ended up looking like a junkie in withdrawal. ‘Worried? About what?’

Admittedly, you might have overreacted to his unexplained absence a little, but you really couldn't help it. You knew that if this fling with Bucky went on much longer it would grow into something with the potential to absolutely shatter you, it was terrifying to think how invested you were in a guy you’d only properly known for a matter of days. You couldn’t shake your mother’s shrill voice, incessantly warning you about him and his reputation; at least if it ended now it’d be a little easier to pick up the pieces.

‘Man, I can read you like a book. You thought I was gone for good, thought all I wanted was a roll in the hay, didn’t ya?’ He grinned and stopped what he was doing, instead moving over to you and placing his hands on your waist. ‘I mean, that last part is true, but I thought I might as well come back for seconds.’

You smacked him on the shoulders, trying to suppress a smile. ‘Asshole.’

With a reassuring kiss on the forehead he waved you away while he finished unpacking. You wandered back over to the bed, folding up all the sheets before attempting to convert it back into a couch. In all fairness, you’d only seen it done once, but even so you knew that your efforts were pathetic. Bucky just snickered behind you.

'I think this thing is broken,' your words were punctuated with grunts as you tried to ram one confusingly shaped piece of wood into another, 'how the hell do people live like this full time?'

Your host swooped in and took over, fixing your mistakes in a matter of seconds. 'I hear ya, this place can get kinda cramped. Maybe we should head out for a while.'

'Yeah? Whereabouts?’

He curled his arms around your waist, smiling at your obvious excitement. ‘Wherever you want, baby.’

‘I might need some ideas.’

‘Hmm, there’s a beach nearby?’

‘Great,' with a kiss on his nose you unlatched his grip, turned and headed towards the shower, adding over your shoulder, 'I've never been to a beach before.'

Then, suddenly, you weren’t moving any more. Your arm had been grabbed from behind by a young man wearing an incredibly shocked expression.

‘What, never? Seriously?’

‘Seriously. Church summer camp was more of a deep-in-the-forest type deal.’

‘Jesus, looks like we gotta do some making up for your tragic childhood then, eh?’ He winked as he slipped past you, maintaining heated eye contact while strolling backwards into the bathroom. ‘Plus fresh air will take your mind off the whole runaway boyfriend complex thing you got going on.'

The rickety door clicked shut. You folded your arms and once again leaned against the counter, preparing yourself for a long wait while Bucky showered and intricately styled his hair. That was, until his head and bare chest reappeared around the corner, a suggestive flash of the eyebrows beckoning you in to join him. The rest of the morning was a write off after that.

---

You’d only been driving for ten minutes when you started smelling the sea air. Fresh and briny, you couldn’t stop pulling in lungfuls of it, drinking the scent like a thick soup. You watched over Bucky’s shoulder as the green horizon was gradually swallowed by blue, as far as the eye could see. It was breathtaking.

The bike eventually pulled up close to the edge of the sand. The weather was cool and breezy with clouds covering the sky, so the beach was basically empty. The only signs of life were a few dog-walkers dotted about and a group of fishermen hanging their poles from an old jetty in the distance. You swung your leg free and took a few steps towards the water, surveying the vast expanse of sand stretching in both directions. It actually began to make you feel quite emotional. You didn’t know why it took an intervention by Bucky for you to realise how much more there is to the world than god and grades, but you did know that you owed him a hell of a lot for doing it, and you wouldn’t let him forget that in a hurry.

Too distracted by the view and by your profound inner monologue, you didn’t notice what he was up to. He’d pulled his shoes and socks off along with his jacket and dumped them next to the bike. He only caught your attention when he raced out in front of you, shouting.

‘What the hell you waiting for, doll-face?’

You quickly followed suit, undressing and running to catch up with him. The crisp sea breeze and soft sand between your toes should probably have been relaxing but the gradually closing gap between you and Bucky was making your heart thump like a bass drum; as soon as he slowed down you took the opportunity to jump up onto his back. Holding onto your legs, he started spinning around, but you somehow slipped from his grasp and landed in the sand with a loud thud.

‘Shit, are you alright?’ He dropped onto his hands and knees over you, concern melting from his face when he realised you were laughing.

‘Didn’t realise you had such a weak grip, Barnes.’

‘Right, that’s it,’ he gathered you up in his arms, ‘you’re going in the sea.’

He hastily waded up to his knees, threatening to drop you whenever you tried to wriggle. It took some convincing before he let you down amicably and he roared with laughter at your reaction to the freezing water. The two of you only managed to paddle for a few minutes before giving up, willing your numb legs to carry you as fast as possible towards some comfortable looking rocks on the shore.

You brushed all the windswept hairs out of your eyes, your feet were tingling and sand was making your thighs chafe, but the giddy grin didn’t shift from your face for a second. Bucky took out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips, fumbling around in his pockets for what was now probably a very soggy lighter. You considered for a second before hesitantly holding your hand out to him. He looked down at it then up to your face, raising one eyebrow in suspicion.

‘You ever tried one before?’ You shook your head faintly, a little embarrassed at your lack of experience. He smirked and pushed the pack back into his pocket. ‘Nah.’

‘Nah?’

‘I mean I’m flattered, but you don’t have to do shit like that to impress me,’ he lit the cigarette and put an arm around your shoulders, ‘I like you just how you are.’

His words prompted a warm glow to ignite in your chest and spread through your entire body. Embarrassingly enough, you had been aiming for a Sandy-from-Grease type situation there, but it was reassuring to know that Bucky was as unimpressed with the whole change yourself to impress boys message as you were; besides, it was probably a good thing that he shot you down before you humiliated yourself with a violent coughing fit.

‘C’mon,’ he stood up and offered you his arm, ‘you’re freezing, let’s go back.’

---

'Honestly, I'm all good.'

You did your best to reassure your nurse as he draped yet another blanket around your shoulders, the soup he was warming on the stove beginning to audibly bubble.

‘You might wanna tell your hands that,’ he removed the pan from the heat before it boiled over, ‘s’like being touched by a vampire.’

You rolled your eyes, attempting to hide how touched you were that he was looking after you so attentively; you’d barely managed to talk him out of wrapping you in aluminium foil after he’d felt the temperature of your cheeks. The soup was decanted into a bowl but it was pretty quickly abandoned on the table, the delivery boy instead deciding to abruptly dive onto the couch and squirrel his way under your blanket fort, somehow managing to pin you on your back.

‘Right, s’no good, time for extreme measures. We gotta warm you up quick.’

You smiled at the sensation of his toasty hands making their way under your shirt and connecting with your admittedly chilly skin. ‘What do you have in mind, Dr. Barnes?’

‘Do it like they do in the north pole, body heat.’

A sharp breath entered your lungs as his face disappeared into your neck, his hands gradually caressing their way further and further up your torso. You involuntarily threw your head back, fingertips digging into his shoulders and back, thighs squeezing his waist and pulling his body closer to yours. You were so close to being completely lost in the moment when, suddenly, the trailer door swung open, hitting the outside wall with an almighty crash. The sound made you jump out of your skin. Bucky snapped his head round before swiftly launching himself off you.

A heavy boot landed through the entrance, followed by two shaking hands fumbling around to grab the door frame and heave a stooped, burly body through the gap.

‘The hell are you doing?’ Bucky was almost shouting at the swaying figure standing in the doorway, ‘I told you I was here.’

‘You didn’t tell me nothin’, boy.’

The stranger had the voice of a lifelong chain-smoker or an alcoholic who only drank kerosene, and by the looks of him he was quite possibly both. The two of them stared at each other, unwavering, the tension in the room growing to an unbearable level. You swung your legs off the couch and scooched yourself to the edge of the seat, readying for some kind of fight-or-flight situation, not that you’d be much use in either.

The guest nodded towards you. ‘Who’s the broad?’

‘This is y/n.’ Bucky spoke through clenched teeth, then turning to look at you with some kind of vague warning in his eyes. ‘Y/n, this is my old man.’

Ah. Shit.

---

Part 6

---

[daltheznadofart]

Just You

Pairing: Astarion x Teresta [my drow pc]

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Summary:

There's a distance in his eyes whenever they're together sexually. It dampens moods and Teresta just wants Astarion to be comfortable.

[AO3 Link]

"We don't have to do this." Teresta grips the linen of Astarion's shirt, using it to gently push him away. He frowns. The ends of his mouth deep, marring his features near a scowl. "You don't want to. And I don't want you to do something you're uncomfortable with."

Astarion's hands find the ground on either side of Teresta's waist. He frowns in return. That wary look sits in his eyes, shining, watching him. It fades into the practiced facade. A curling smile that doesn't reach his eyes. The dirt moves under his palms when he pushes to sit back on his heels. His arms cross.

"Here it sounds like you don't want me."

Teresta lets go of Astarion's shirt and leans back with his hands behind him. Eyes falling shut, he sighs heavily. "Far from it. I'd have thought that was evident since you first bit me."

He shakes his head before looking at the vampire again. He can see the curling smile fading into something almost defensive.

"We've been through a lot already. I enjoy your company. And as much as I crave you, crave this." Teresta gestures to their half dressed states. "I would rather you be excited to do it, instead of missing. You've always been… not here entirely, since the first time. I want you to only do what you want. I'm not stupid, Astarion."

Astarion is silent for a long moment. Then another. His hands grasp at air for something. They settle on his legs, tight and gripping the leather across his thigh. Red searches across the words, across his face, looking for anything, deception maybe.

It wouldn't be a surprise if that was the case after learning what he'd been through. The torment of two hundred years was hard to wipe away in only a few months. And with Cazador still ahead and the tadpoles to deal with… Teresta wanted to help Astarion, not hurt him further.

"You really mean that," Astarion speaks, his voice softer than a whisper. "Don't you?"

Teresta starts to reach with his hand towards Astarion's face, stopping, fingers curling into his palm as he thinks better of it. His hand merely sits in the air between them before Astarion wraps his own fingers around it. Both hands squeeze Teresta's one. "I’ve never lied to you. I’m not about to start.”

Squeezing Astarion’s hands back, Teresta sits himself up, pulling his legs from beneath Astarion and crossing them together. He watches their hands. Trails along the veins going up pale arms. Subtle scars in skin from years of use and abuse. His own hands had plenty to match even with no memories to claim them.

“If you don’t want this, that’s fine. I just…” Teresta fills the silence between them. A thick feeling in the air that reminds him too much of the headaches he wakes up with each day. “You mean more..I want you. Not…” He fumbles with the words. What could he say really? It had grown past merely lust ages ago, but he hadn’t wanted to press it, hadn’t thought that it would come up really. Not until tonight. Not until Astarion looked far away when their eyes were meeting. A distance that only seemed to pervade during each of these encounters.

Through the words and the silence, Astarion remains quiet. Motionless save for the twitch of his thumb across Teresta’s palm.

An ache crawls into Teresta’s chest. Heavy, frigid. Air refuses to come in with it sitting there. “What do you want?” Words a whisper. Eyes remain on their hands, refusing to accept what would assuredly be a denial. He’d never been good with words, never been good at this feeling thing… But Astarion was… Well, he was Astarion.

“Me? What do any of us want,” Astarion lets his hands fall to the wayside, coming to a rest beside his body. He doesn’t look at Teresta, instead looks back off towards the dim light of the camp. “I just… I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what I want.”

Moving back off his legs, Astarion sits on the ground fully. Hands in his lap, he taps his thumbs over one another. “I know I don’t want to be looked at in term of sex… Not by you. Not by anyone.”

Teresta takes in a cautious breath. He presses his hands into the dirt, trying to ground himself back to the present, to the conversation; trying not to give in to a stupid panic that he hadn’t had in over forty years. “How do you want me to see you?”

Their eyes meet. Scouring of expressions, looking for the thoughts of the other.

“As a person? Would that be so much to ask?”

The questions sit there between them. The trees hold their breath as the dark waits for a reply.

Teresta starts to say something, tries to. His mouth hangs there. The words don’t come out, won’t come out, refuse to be spoken. So he says nothing, instead opening his mind to Astarion.

There’s a lingering hesitation before their minds merge. Astarion frowns, feeling everything and seeing it from the drow’s view. Warmth. The small smiles from snide comments. An overwhelming urge to… hold his hand?

The link breaks.

Teresta is looking to the trees. The woods look back in anticipation.

“Teresta.” Spoken softly, gentle as a breeze. A hand reaching out, leaned forward and grabbing his hand. A squeeze to bring his attention back.

Astarion smiles and it’s warm, surprised. A dancing kind of excitement sits behind his eyes. Almost childish. “You are just full of surprise aren’t you?”

Squeezing his hand back, Teresta smiles back.

“Honestly, I have no idea what we’re doing. Or what comes next.” Astarion leans in, brows furrowed, expression the softest its ever been. “But I know that this. What you shared. What we share. This is nice.”

The air seems to come back all at once. The wind rustles past. Branches creak overhead. It feels lighter, if only for the moment.

“We take this at your pace.” Teresta leans further forward. He presses his forehead to Astarion’s. “I’m just glad to be a part of… well, whatever this is. Wherever it goes.”

"As am I, Darling. As am I."

[some-little-infamy]

heart of a rider, mind of a scribe

(Read on AO3)

Violet tries, and fails, to ignore the knocking on the door to her room.

No, not her room - it’s simply the room she’s staying in, because she’s so far from anywhere she would call home. Her brother is on the other side of that door, she’s certain of it. She’s learned to tell his knocks from Xaden’s, not that it matters. She won’t open the door for either of them, she hasn’t for days.

She can’t face them, or anyone else right now. Every time she thinks she’s regained control of her thoughts and emotions they begin to spiral again until she’s barely able to breathe, her vision dimming around the edges.

How could she be so foolish?

She’s a Sorrengail. This entire year she’s been so hellbent on living up to her mother and siblings’ names, of the Sorrengail name, that she forgot there was another Sorrengail with a legacy to uphold.

Worse than anything else that’s befallen her these past few days, is the realization that she let her father’s memory down. He raised her to value knowledge, to utilize the power of words and stories. She knows how important they are because he told her, ingraining it into every facet of her life and studies. If she only followed her gut instinct to bring the book of fables… if only she kept her head and her wits about her amongst all the physical conditioning and… and…

Violet doesn’t realize she’s crying again until the tears are soaking through her shirt, pressing it cold and damp against her chest.

She had everything she needed to figure this out weeks ago. Months ago. The incidents that never made it to their classroom reports - the scroll she accidentally read, and the attacks her sister was involved in - all the information was there. All the signs were there, right in front of her face, but she was too focused on her own goddamn drama to piece it all together.

She should’ve known, should’ve realized sooner.

She could’ve figured out the truth behind the Wyverns and Venin.

She could’ve saved so many lives.

She could’ve saved Liam.

Instead, she spent her time training to fight, or worrying about her friendship with Dain, or fixating over her stupid crush on Xaden. Nothing mattered except fitting in. Nothing mattered except surviving, getting stronger, and proving herself physically. She let everything else fall to the wayside, including everything that made her her. She lost herself a little bit more every day she spent as a Rider.

And because of that, she lost so much more.

On some deeper level Violet knows that this isn’t her fault. She knows that there are people much higher up than she is to blame for the lack of information and transparency. She wonders how many more secrets her mother kept that harmed so many more than they helped. Is that the legacy she’s so keen to uphold? One rooted in selfishness and the sacrifice of others to serve her own best interests?

Violet tells herself that she’s nothing like her mother, that she actually saved a lot of lives by figuring it out in the end… but it isn’t enough.

She isn’t enough, not split in two the way she is.

The heart of a rider and the brain of a scribe, constantly at war.

A Sorrengail, through and through.

It’s time she starts acting like one - all of it, everything that comes with her lineage, not just whatever bits and pieces she feels like handpicking for any given moment.

Violet wipes at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt in careful dabs, not wanting to add to the redness she’s certain is already exhibited there, before standing up and making her way to the door.

There’s work to be done.

[twodiamondhoes]

Pspspspsps I am slowly rereading Dirges as I attempt to typeset the whole shebang for bookbinding (it still hits meeee!!!) and I'm wondering: were there any ideas that you had to put by the wayside?

Eeeee! I'm so excited to hear that!! <3

and OH BOY DO I EVER

Fun fact! There were two concepts for Dirges before it became Dirges.

A bog-standard spaghetti western with no supernatural elements. I dreamed up the original concept/finale scene while listening to the song Blood on My Name by the Brothers Bright. I was plotting a second fic at the time with all the eldritch stuff and while talking to my partner when I was trying to decide the reason that the Ratcliffes had fled England, we realized it would be so much fun to combine the two. One of the big things that I miss from the original Dirges concept was that Jimmy actually gives up being sheriff/deputy entirely and busts Tango out of jail, because his original arc was coming to terms with the idea that legal=/=morally correct.

the second concept is something that I wrestled with for the first few weeks of the HSBB. I loved it. I actually got as far as plotting the entire fic and drafting the first two chapters before changing the entire storyline to what it became. There are a few holdovers from this concept: Tango's sickles, and Tango's soul-vision. In this version, Tango wasn't an escapee from Hell, he was a "soulkeeper," or an emissary of death, who could see echoes of how someone was going to die (this actually leaned hard into the Dungeon Master Tango skin with all the soul-fire elements of it). The stronger the echo, the sooner the person was slated to die. In this version, the big arc is actually Tango coming to terms with falling in love with Jimmy, even though he wakes up every day knowing how short their time together will be. BEST wanted him back because they believed that he was their "good luck charm" because he always knew when things were going to break bad. In the end iirc, Tango turned it around on them and saved Del Sombra.

One day I might polish up the outline for concept 2 and post it, because I love soulkeeper Tango so, so much, but there were bits of the story that weren't as strong, and rewriting it was ultimately the way to go. :3

Thank you for this question!! It was a lot of fun going on this little trip down memory lane! <3

As a treat, have the very first thing ever written for Dirges, wayyyyy back in Concept 1, when the title was still "Homestead" and the only plot outline I had for it was this:

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” 

Jimmy whirled, his panic sharpening into cold terror as he realized that some of the shadows weren’t shadows at all. A scratch and hiss of a match being lit filled the silence between heartbeats, and Grian lit the lamp beside the door. 

Jimmy tangled his fingers in the mane of the Sheriff’s horse, instinctively taking a step closer to the beast. If he was quick—

Grian huffed, familiar irritation snapping across his features and clearing in another second. 

“You’re really going to take the time to saddle up that horse, when we have a perfectly good horse of our own outside? I thought you’d be in more of a hurry, given the circumstances.”

The silence of the barn suddenly struck Jimmy. He’d chalked it up to the calm before the storm, but the barn had never been quiet. Hadn’t he fallen asleep out here enough lately to know that the horses were never silent, even in sleep? A breeze whistled through the open door. The flame in the lantern guttered for a moment, but Grian didn’t close the flap. He was too busy fiddling with the latch. 

“Where are the horses?”

“Grazing.”

“It’s past midnight, Grian.”

“So it is.” Grian sniffed, not bothering to feign surprise. “And you’re still here.”

The light of the lone flame flickered across his brother’s face, obscuring him beyond even his usual stone-faced reticence. Behind him, Jimmy could see stars. He still had time. 

“You never did tell us what we were running from.”

A wry smile, an ironic smile, spread across Grian’s face. He looked at Jimmy like he was already mourning him. 

“Well, Tim,” he began. His voice cracked on the nickname, the emotion small enough that no one but he or Pearl would have ever noticed it. “It seems like now you’re on the run from the law. That’s enough for one man, don’t you think?”

Jimmy pressed past his brother, through the barn door. In the light of the moon, he could see what his earlier panic had blinded him to: Bullseye in the grazing pen, looking confused as to why he was ready to ride so late at night, when all the other horses were getting a lovely midnight snack. 

Jimmy looked back. Grian had taken his place at the side of Scar’s horse and was watching Jimmy closely. 

‘Thank you’ seemed too small, so Jimmy didn’t say anything at all. He ran to the pen and was over the fence in barely a minute. 

Grian was at the gate, leading Oreo inside to graze. He didn’t take his eyes off the horizon as Jimmy rode past him. Jimmy could practically hear him now, his voice prickling with rage and anguish: He stole away in the night. I didn’t even see him leave. 

Grian had always been a master of finding a way to tell the truth even in the twistiest of circumstances.

He was well down the road when he realized the light at his back wasn’t the rising sun. Bullseye skidded to a halt at his command. He could hear the terrified whinnying of the horses, safe in the grazing pen, as the stable burned. If he squinted, he thought he could see Grian, running back from the well. 

His breath caught on a lump in his throat, but he couldn’t stay to watch, and even if he went back, there was no stopping the blaze, now. He was just glad he’d had the foresight to argue with Grian over where to put the damn thing. 

He turned and guided Bullseye back onto the road. Despite his desperation, he couldn’t make his horse go at a full gallop. He couldn’t exhaust Bullseye before the real flight began. Even at this pace, he’d make it to town before they hung Tango. 

He had to. 

[polyamorouspunk]

Hug

I feel. Awful. I feel. Useless. I feel like all I am anymore is pain. It’s not that I feel like I’m a waste of space, but that the space I take up would be better put to use by someone else. That there are people more deserving of what I have than I am. My life feels pointless. I feel directionless. I feel. Lost. My whole world is one single thing right now. Everything else has taken a back seat. Outside of this, it’s just background work, background going places to try and give me a crumb of serotonin. College? If I’m still like this in a few months I’m not going to be able to do it. I’ve wasted so much of this year just trying to survive day after day. It is consuming. I don’t know how to explain it to people who aren’t like this. I’m glad there are people out there who aren’t like this. I’m not sleeping. I’m not eating. I’m in grief, I’m in agony, I’m in trauma. Over some really, really stupid shit. I feel like I’ve hit my limit of how far I can take control of things and try and “make myself better”. I’ve run out of ideas. I’m stuck. The best that I have is going on yet another trip up to Connecticut to see my friends. So that for a few glorious days I can escape the oppression of the prison I’ve created here by mistake. I fucked up. I fucked up bad. I got in way too deep and over my head emotionally. There’s being emotionally invested and then there’s being emotionally dependent to the point it’s life or death. And no relationship with anyone should ever reach that unhealthy of a point. I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t remember me. I have. Fragments. Memories. Of things that I like. I remember going to a bakery and seeing they had bubble waffle ice cream cones on the menu and being excited because they’re so aesthetic. I remember playing a game at my best friend’s house I loved so much I bought it as soon as I got home. But all that’s just out of reach. I feel so hollow, so empty. I don’t know what’s inside anymore. Sometimes the depression or the emotions or whatever they get so bad you lose yourself. It’s part of the BPD. You latch on to something so hard everything else goes by the wayside and it becomes how you define yourself. Who are you without it? You’re nobody. You’re nothing. I’m so. Trapped. Here. In my body. In my room. In this town. In this state. But moving isn’t going to fix it. It’s a bandaid until the next wound opens up. I’m exhausted. I can’t sleep. I’m too stressed, too depressed. I’m drained but not enough to be overwhelmingly tired and crash. I’m just tired enough that my eyes flutter shut every once and a while but if I lay my head down I don’t fall asleep. I don’t know what brings me joy anymore. I tried watching things that I thought might cheer me up, but they didn’t. I ate food and it was good and I’m fuller now so maybe it’ll help me sleep, but the taste hasn’t lasted, and the pain of starving myself has felt… nice. My body hurts. My head hurts. My eyes hurt. I’m all cried out. Sure, my eyes will tear up. But that’s all I got. I’ve run myself empty over the past few days and there’s nothing left. There’s no energy to have a breakdown. There’s just tired emptiness. I wish I could just start over. I wish I had never started going. But now I can’t stop. Not until it becomes too painful again. I just want to feel some sort of positive emotion that lasts beyond the space in which it came to fruition. I’m tired of smiling and laughing while I’m there to come home and cry or stare at my walls with a blank expression on my face. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know who I am. I feel lost and I can’t even sleep it off. But I’m going to try. Again.

[blot-squisher]

@bellalizard @ninthsheep ask and yee shall receive! Even if it is super late

SFW Alphabet Ask Meme for Surviving the Game The Oni

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Kazan is more reserved about showing his feelings, especially in a way that might cause others to perceive him as weak. As well, he rarely shows any kind of affection in public settings, not wanting the person/people he cares for to be used against him or targeted by his enemies.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Kazan doesn't have 'friends'. He has a few people he respects as he considers them equals, but that's not an easy thing to accomplish...

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) He will seat you on his lap and you will sit there until he lets you go...

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) All things considered, Kazan has technically already settled down. Living in solitude atop a high mountain, he's as content as he can be in the world he now finds himself in. He cooks and cleans for himself and expects others to do the same unless they've hired someone to do it for them.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) Most likely by breaking their skull...

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Kazan has already committed to and lost one love. He will not do so again. He will still find ways to satisfy his desires, but he doesn't care for the idea of remarrying.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) The Oni was born from anger and violence. Kazan may have a better handle on it now, but it will always be there below the surface. He doesn't believe in speaking with the intention of hurting people simply for the sake of causing them pain, but he will use the truth (oftentimes as he perceives it).

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Do you want to die? Because if you try to hug him you will die. If he decides to hug you, let it happen. It might feel somewhat like a mountain just grew arms and scooped you up, but hey. At least he's not killing you...

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Never. Much like with marriage, his commitment to a partner lived and died with her, and to speak such a word to another would be a betrayal of her memory.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) Jealousy is for the weak and envious. There's nothing to be jealous of when you're the best of the best.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss their partner? Where do they like to be kissed?) Kazan doesn't really kiss... obvious reasons... However, he is very much into being kissed anywhere on his body. It's fine. You can worship him.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Believe it or not, he's quite good with children. They're innocent and honest, seeing the world around them unclouded by rage and full of curiosity.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Quiet, contemplative, and usually with a cup of tea.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Relaxing after a long day of hard work and training. One should never let their skills fall by the wayside.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) It is incredibly rare for Kazan to open up to anyone. The past is best left alone as it cannot be changed. Dwelling on it only causes more pain.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Anger is Kazan's basic state of existence. How driven he is to act upon it and how strongly is directly related to if he takes the offence personally or not...

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about their partner? Do they remember every little detail they mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) Kazan remembers everything about his wife. From the smell of her hair to the sound of her laugh, the way her eyes would light up when she smiled...

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in their relationship?) The day his son was born. He didn't know his heart could possible be more full of love until he held the squalling newborn in his arms for the first time.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect their partner? How would they like to be protected?) Kazan will scour the earth for those he considers a threat or an insult. If you've crossed him in any way, he will find you and he will make you pay.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) All important tasks should be done with the utmost dedication and care. If something is to be done, it needs to be done right.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) Kazan was raised with a very heavy emphasis on respect and pride. Due to that, he expects to be shown respect as he shows it when he is in someone else's home, unless they are in a station far beneath his own that is.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) He's an Oni. Looks are no longer of any concern.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without their partner?) There will always be a hole in his heart from the loss of his wife. Nothing will ever fill that and no one will ever come close to the love he felt for her.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) He loves having his hair brushed or played with. This is one of the only times he'll allow physical contact in a setting he isn't in control of.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) Disrespect of any kind will not be tolerated, nor will disobedience. Know your place.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) There is no sneaking up on him. Years of hunting and being hunted have made Kazan an incredibly light sleeper.

[everlastiingiimmortals]

Doctor of Truth

Name: Dr. Andreas “Veritas Ratio” Costas Species: Human ? Occupation: Intelligentsia Guild Member, self-proclaimed Doctor of Truth Region of Origin: Lauren Wreath Galaxy Height: 6'2’’ Age: 37 Birthday: September 23rd

Sexuality: His sexuality is intelligence (pansexual). Open to multiship (good luck)!

A brilliant man, professor, and -- yes -- doctor, both medical and scholarly, with eight doctorates by the time he graduated from university. Andreas Costas (self-named Veritas Ratio in the pursuit of truth and logic) is a candid, blunt, and strong-willed professor and "Mundanite" of the Intelligentsia Guild. He has incredibly high standards and even greater strictness, sparing little patience for stupidity, viewed by him as the lack of critical thinking. His scathing tongue is only rivaled by the strength and precision of his throwing arm. Those who end up taking his classes usually end up falling by the wayside in the wake of his extreme teaching methods, but this is in fact his goal; only those who learn to persevere to the end of his classes, regardless of their final score, have understood his lessons: to analyze and criticize oneself and one's environment to exhaust the truth and eradicate any room for ignorance and error. These alumni of his, few as they may number, proceed to become the most brilliant leads in their fields. Without a doubt, Ratio's teaching methods have proven to be effective despite the incredibly low completion rate of his courses. In fact, one could consider Ratio a sculptor of geniuses, challenging the notion of "genius" being an innate trait and creating something extraordinary out of the mundane.

Despite his harsh attitude, his dogged pursuit of the elimination of ignorance has earned him the description of "a passionate hand gripping an icy sword," and his revolutionizing of education and dedication to knowledge and creativity since he was a boy has been acknowledged with much love, admiration, and support by fellow academics far and wide.

Abilities

High intelligence: Dr. Ratio is widely considered by many, especially his students and assistants, to be a genius regardless of his lack of position within the Genius Society. Having eight doctorates is no small feat, and that's not all; Ratio enrolled in university at an incredibly early age, having only been in high school by the time of his professor's sponsorship.

Precision: Ratio is incredibly precise and detailed in both mind and body, with the accuracy and steadiness of hand to create blueprints with little aid and aim a projectile to perfectly strike any target.

Mental Prodigy: Ratio has not just photographic memory, but also the prodigious ability of mental calculation; he does not need to use a calculator or write down calculations to solve even complex mathematical equations.

Sculpting: Aside from his prowess in all manner of STEM fields and philosophy, Ratio also enjoys several forms of art -- most notably pottery and stone sculpting. Though sculpting overlaps with engineering in the form of masonry and architecture, Ratio also has made a plethora of marble statues and vases.

Read More: Honkai Star Rail Wiki

Updated: 08.19.2024

[mistydeyes]

Hello! I just came across your blog and adore it! If you have the time could I get a COD pairing

I’m 5’4 with orange hair that’s short on top and shave on the sides(almost like a faux hawk) I’m on the chubbier side with a few tattoos. I love camping, cooking and taking my Husky for hikes. Thank you so much of you see this!

John Price

a/n thank you for your kind words, anon!

How you met: Civilian As you trudged up the mountain, you struggled to keep up with your husky. You huffed as your watched beeped and acknowledged you had hiked 14 miles in about 2 1/2hrs. "Only one more mile to go," you breathed as you pushed yourself further. Finally after what seemed like all morning, you reached the top of the mountain. With the fall foliage, the valley and raging rivers looked gorgeous. You sat towards the edge of the cliff with your dog and snapped a few pictures as a memory. Just as you were enjoying the view, your dog suddenly went barreling back towards the trail. You dropped your water bottle and raced after her, only to see she had tacked another hiker. "Well hello there," the man said as your dog liked his face and sat on his chest. "C'mere girl," you beckoned and your dog ended the assault and joined at your side. You went over to help the man up and retrieved his hat which had fallen to the wayside. "I'm so sorry about her, she gets real excited around new people," you smiled at him as he dusted off his clothes. "It's nothing to apologize for, miss. You're definitely a cutie," he replied back and smiled so that his face lit up. At first you thought he was referring to your loyal companion but after you exchanged numbers at the base of the mountain, you realized he was referring to you.

A peek into your relationship: "Do we have everything, John?" you asked your husband as you locked up the house. He leaned on the car as he finished up his MRE. God, you didn't know how he could eat that stuff, must be a military thing. "I think so sweetie," he replied and you both entered the car. You both decided for your 1 year anniversary you would go hiking and camping on the mountain you had met at all those years ago. John insisted on driving so you were in charge of entertaining your dog and queuing music. John had a specific music taste and loved what you called "the oldies." You flipped through your Spotify playlist until you found something he would enjoy. "Here you go, old man," you smiled and kissed his cheek. Suddenly you cranked the car's stereo up and You Give Love a Bad Name by Bon Jovi began playing. He laughed at your choice as he navigated through the winding roads of the mountain range. You made sure to put your worst impression of Bon Jovi on as your dog stuck her head out the window. Finally when the song ended, he held your hand before replying, "Bon Jovi is not old, sweetheart. You better have some better music queued for our campfire tonight."

[riahlynn101]

Dad December - Day Seventeen: "It Wasn't My Fault."

Trigger warnings: AFO being himself, human experimentation, attempted kidnapping, and implied murder.

Based on the AFO clone theory!

Summary: Being a clone is hard, being AFO’s clone is even harder. So, when he gets a chance to take something good for himself, AFO’s clone goes for it.

word count: 1,348

--

Being a clone is weird. Your entire existence belongs to someone else. Your identity. Your personhood. And, yet…

All your thoughts and feelings are your own, at least one can hope they do. Otherwise, there’s nothing to signify personhood. Just a carbon copy given the ability to mimic the original.

Now, being All for One’s clone is another layer of messed up.

From the day he was created, brought into the world by the delusions of a mad scientist and a supervillain’s aspirations of retirement, he was denied his rights to personhood. He was a tool. A means to an end. 

Nothing more. Nothing less. 

His counterpart didn’t spend a lot of time with him, pushing the work of teaching him onto the doctor. But when he did, his counterpart liked to talk about himself. 

“I have a family,” his counterpart said, an almost bragging tone.

“I know,” he says, voice monotone because this is the millionth time he’s heard of Yoichi. “I have all your memories. Yoichi was-”

His counterpart scoffs, clasping his hands together. “No.”

“Oh?” He can’t keep the bored tone from leaching into his voice. “Is it that girl, then? Inko?”

“My wife?”

“Sure.” He can’t recall hearing about a wedding. Not that he cares. Whatever his counterpart decides to do in his freetime, doesn’t concern him. 

“I mean, it involves her.” His counterpart smiles. “We’re expecting.”

He crosses his arms. “Expecting what?”

The smile falls off his counterpart’s face. “Expecting a baby.”

His chest clenches painfully, but he can’t understand why. What would he do with a stupid baby? Something that cries and takes and offers nothing in return.

(But that child would be his. Even with his counterpart’s DNA, that baby would be his. A fact that makes his heart soar.)

(He instantly wants that baby. He wants to raise it. Not for villainy or for any nefarious reasons. Just to be able to shower something with love, and have it love him back. To be able to make good memories to replace the terrible ones his counterpart supplied him with.)

He forces down his newfound enthusiasm. “When’s it due?”

“ He ,” his counterpart corrects. “The baby’s a boy. He’ll be due sometime in July.” The smile returns to his face, fond and genuine. “I can’t wait to hold him in my arms.”

He is barely able to suppress the urge to respond me too. 

-x-x-x-

The months pass by, and his counterpart is around even less. The doctor is nice enough to him, but that is probably due to the weird worship of his counterpart. His thoughts of raising a baby fall by the wayside, too preoccupied by the increasingly hard tests and puzzles created by the doctor. 

And then, suddenly, in early August, his counterpart returns. A whole stack of freshly printed photos in tow. His counterpart boasts about his new baby, shoving picture after picture in the doctor’s face. And when he asks to see them, the doctor sends him a grateful look, sprinting off to another part of the lab. 

He takes in each new picture. His son (“Izuku,” his counterpart tells him.) is all wrinkles and pink skin. Ugly as can be, but at that exact same time, the most beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes on. 

He vows to take him away. 

-x-x-x-

He gets his chance, a few months later. 

The doctor sends him on an errand, something small and insignificant, but it gives him the chance to escape. He walks slowly down the sidewalk, trying to recall the address he found in the doctor’s database.

He finally finds an apartment building nestled at the edge of downtown Musutufa. It’s one of the last places he would have guessed his counterpart to hide something so precious, but whatever works. 

The apartment itself is spacious and homey. The smell of something delicious and sweet hangs in the air, and he follows that smell right into the kitchen. There, he finds a woman (Inko?) with long green hair. Her back is to him.

“Oh, Hisashi,” she says, still not turning to face him. (Maybe) Inko pulls a rag over towards her with a simple wave of her hand. It stuns him for a moment, before he remembers what his objective is. “Can you go get the baby?

He hums in response, heading down the hall.

The first couple rooms yield no results-being an office and bathroom respectively-but the one at the very end of the hallway holds a full-size bed, dresser, and (to his excitement) a bassinet. He slinks into the room, a smile etched across his face. 

Small whimpers come from the bassinet. He steps closer, leaning over the bassinet. A baby, no older than a couple months, stares up at him with Yoichi’s eyes. 

Now, unlike his counterpart he only holds a faint fondness for Yoichi (something that he was preprogrammed and groomed to have), but that faint fondness is enough for him to fall in love ten times over. Not the kind of love that his counterpart talks about in regards to his wife, but the kind that makes him want to hold and love and protect this tiny, useless thing for all of time. 

WIth trembling hands, he reaches into the bassinet and grabs the baby. He has no idea how to hold a baby, but the youtube tutorials he watched while the doctor was occupied help guide him. Once fully situated in his arms, the baby ( Izuku , he thinks to himself. The name fits him perfectly ) smiles at him. Content with being held, Izuku drifts off back to sleep. 

For a long, long while, he stands there with Izuku in his arms. The comforting weight of something good and precious in his arms makes him feel a tad bit dizzy. Like none of this is real. It can’t be real. How can this be real?

He comes to his senses, listening to his counterpart talk to Inko in the kitchen. He tenses up, tightening his hold on the baby who makes an unhappy noise in response. “Shhh…sorry.”

He looks around the room, spotting a window. It’s risky but it’s the best chance they have. He has no idea what they’re saying to each other in the kitchen, but his counterpart sprints down the hall. 

He’s halfway out the window, Izuku now wide-awake and wailing, when a hand grabs him by the back of the shirt and pulls him through the window. He lands on his back, barely remembering to cling to Izuku. 

His counterpart stands over him, a distinctive kind of rage in his eyes. “How dare you!” His counterpart spits out. His face is red, and he’s practically shaking with anger. “How fucking dare you!” 

He distantly wonders where Inko is. If she can hear his counterpart getting angrier and angrier. 

He sits up, still holding the baby. Izuku continues to wail and the sound feels like a knife is being jabbed into his eardrums. His counterpart tries to grab the baby away, but he clings on tighter. Determined to keep this one thing for himself. 

“No!” He screams, slapping at his counterpart’s hands. “You’re not taking him from me!”

“Taking him from you?” His counterpart scoffs, shaking his head. Anger gives way to disbelief. “He’s, my son. Mine. ”

He shakes his head, hysteria rising up in him like a distant tide. “No, no, no! I want him! He’s mine!” Izuku’s screams don’t help his overwhelmed senses. “Shut up!” He yells, making the baby cry harder.  

His counterpart grabs the baby again, this time succeeding.

He stares up at his counterpart, broken and scared and missing the weight and warmth of Izuku in his arms. “It wasn’t my fault,” he warbles. “Just…please…give him back. Give him back please…” His pleas fall on deaf ears. 

His counterpart looks down at him, disgust clear in his eyes. When he finally speaks, it’s more like he’s muttering to himself. “I’ll have to tell the doctor that this experiment isn’t working out.” His counterpart places a hand on his head. “Guess we’ll have to start again.”

[funkymbtifiction]

Hi Charity,

First of all I hope you're doing well, and I wanted to say thank you for all your posts over the years, I'll miss them popping up in my feed!

I read the ask about the ESFJ 6 who was unsure about how to handle their relationships with 9s, and while I found your response very pertinent, I thought I'd add something.

I'm pretty sure I'm a 9w1 INFP btw. I just wanted to talk about this sentence of yours:

But all the 9 is thinking about is "how can I reintroduce peace into my life? By getting rid of this person who is disrupting my peace!".

I think this is a very "thinkery" way of putting it, and while it will probably speak to the asker, I wouldn't say that it's really what's happening from the point of view of a 9. It makes it sound kind of callous and heartless from my point of view.

In the same sort of situation, I wouldn't be thinking that. I probably wouldn't be thinking very much, actually. It may not be the same for all 9s, but the thing is I don't even think in words. I think in pictures, and most of all I feel. I feel a lot. I feel energies. So if I wanted to text or call someone in that kind of situation, and tbh I probably wouldn't want to, I would feel I "have" too, I would grab my phone, but then start to feel "bad" (anxious or sad or angry or anything really), and I would automatically start doing something else and even forget about what I was about to do.

Bad energy > not doing that

And if it happened every time I tried to contact someone, then I just wouldn't contact them, unless at some point the "bad feeling of not doing something I feel I have to do" gets stronger than the "bad feeling I have when I try to do the bad-energy thing". Or unless Actual Real Life Consequences (sometimes not even then).

(when it gets really tricky and mind-bendingly stupid is when the bad energy comes from not having done the thing you felt you had to do, so you don't respond because YOU FEEL BAD YOU HAVEN'T RESPONDED yes that's ridiculous thank you)

(Also sometimes I write entire texts or emails in the shower and promptly forget about them the second my foot touches the mat but my brains registers the task as done ✅ but that's another issue.

Also also sometimes I feel like something needs a Proper Response and I just don't have the energy for that, so I don't do it, when the person would probably have been happy with a few words/sentences. The length of this is probably indicative of what I deem a Proper Response. Sorry about that.)

Add to that the fact that I can not speak to someone for like two YEARS and pick it up as if nothing has changed, so when I was younger (and still sometimes now, especially since COVID has further eroded my capacity to evaluate time), it wouldn't even have occurred to me that someone could be sad/angry/worried if I didn't get back to them for a few weeks (oh was that last week already? Where does time go, eh?), let alone a few days (unless in case of Urgent Stuff and Important Things and romantic relationships).

Left to my own devices, I kind of float through life, and my mind always has something to think about (of course mostly fantasies and philosophical stuff and memories, not much productive), and I always have more fun hobbies to try and things I've been wanting to do and putting off, and people and communication takes a lot out of me, so they often fall by the wayside, but as you said it doesn't mean that I don't think or care about people.

What I mean to say is that I wouldn't actually think "I need to drop this person", it would just happen gradually because I would time and again just not deal with the problem because bad energy. And a lot of the time the dropping would be done by the other person because of it. Or the relationship would just mutually die of neglect.

It's pretty much been my life's struggle, and now I need to actively tell myself "if you don't do this now, you probably won't do it at all" and force myself to see that I'm making a choice RIGHT NOW by ignoring something, but I think especially for young and/or immature 9s it's not actually a conscious decision, nor is it mean-spirited. I have to remind myself of the consequences for other people too, and of their personal preferences. Paradoxically but not really, if I know someone is like me then there's much less pressure to communicate and I'd naturally do it more than with someone who would need it more, which really sucks for everyone.

But sometimes if both people in a relationship have to constantly make huge efforts not to hurt the other person's feelings, then maybe it's not the right person, or not the right time, and maybe they're better off finding other people with whom things won't be as difficult.

Anyway, since I've been in that kind of relationship before, just thought I'd share my side of it in the hope that very thinkery types may see that sometimes we just don't think about things. And we can be very sorry about that.

Wish you all the best Charity!

Thanks for sharing and clarifying with me, I appreciate it :)

I wish I had known more about 9s and their tendency to "forget" time and pick up where they left off as if it never happened years ago -- my relationship with a lot of 9s would have been a lot different and healthier on both our sides.

I also suspect (at last, I assumed this for 9s I have known in the past) that once the 9 becomes consciously aware of not answering someone for a long time, sometimes there's anxiety centered in whether that person is "upset" with them that delays them even longer.

6s have to grow toward 9 to get healthier, so it's interesting to me how often I ignore my gut instincts (like talking to this person makes me feel bad... but doing nothing about it) and default into my own inertia -- I have both some of that 9ish tendency to numb out and ignore things and hope they go away through my 9 line, but I have to learn to better use my 9 to actually obey what my feelings and body are telling me (that this relationship isn't what I want, so move away from it / decrease the stress in my life).

[aquillis-main]

On the "why aren't there any alternate Sonics and Shadows", it is indeed very convenient for the writing that all the realities Sonic gets thrown into just so happen to be ones where he doesn't exist.

But you know, if they were to add an alternate Sonic somewhere in the future, I bet that they would no doubt also make him annoyed at Prime!Sonic's antics, and have that act as a pivotal dramatic turning point for Prime!Sonic's "development". Cause ohmahgaaaawd even ME hates me D:

Or the more likely outcome of "make a reality where Sonic is actually evil and have him make actual good points about why Prime!Sonic and his friends are dumb for what they all did but you are not actually supposed to agree with him because he is evil"

Thing is, there are moments in the show itself where Sonic actually recognizes that he's in the wrong multiple times, and the only bad things that Sonic had 'done' to his friends is 'be late for Eggman getting the Paradox Prism' and 'Buy a Coconut Cream Pie and say to Amy it's homemade'. Neither of these are things to get really angry at, as the characters state normally that Sonic 'is reliable'.

The scene where Rouge barges into Tails' workshop, there's a scene befor that where Sonic actually gives an apology to Tails, whom accepts said apology. Sonic regards his friends in a positive light (Literally calls them 'good friends' a few times!),

There's literally a moment when Sonic is floating in the In-between of the Prismverses where the characters are singing praises, or at least acting non-antagonistically in Sonic's mind:

Literally, the only time Sonic acts like a jerk... is the fight between Sonic and Shadow at the start of episode 2, where the two are forced to not talk to each other to have a cool fight scene and distract that SONIC NEEDS TO GET SOMEWHERE. Hell, it's Shadow's fault that Sonic is late, yet Sonic never mentions this when asked by Amy, or when Knuckles (weirdly, since he would be excited to have all the robots to himself) snarked at Sonic for being late. They even have a 'moment in the middle of the fight that Sonic tells Shadow he has somewhere to be, but when Shadow asks what's the mission, Sonic says 'it's none of your business'. They literally could have ended it ther and then, but because they wanted a fight scene so early, they destroyed Sonic and Shadow's characters in order to make it work.

I don't care if the punch magically made him forget - Punches are not memory removers naturally. If we humans did not have the ability to absorb blows to the face, we'd be an extinct species. It was literally done because the writers really wanted Sonic to not be OP... When there's shows like Young Justice, which showcases that you can write Supersonic characters being able to take out multiple people without having the other characters fall to the wayside due to how OP they are.

You don't need to make Sonic like a punching bag in order to allow others the chance to fight without Sonic overtaking everything. The fact that they wanted the whole 'Sonic needs to reconnct with his friends' falls flat because the show does not show Sonic needing to do this. It seems more his friends that need the lesson, not Sonic.

[welcometomybraincomics]

59 [Station 5]

Vole talks about death very nonchalantly. Like how I talk about my pets. Nonchalant as fuck and it horrifies/ shocks people.

As Vole and Streaker are kept apart, they slowly fall off the deep end. Initially, their personality is very similar, a little weird, Vole is pretty cautious and Streaker is relatively carefree, Vole is reserved, Streaker is expressive, both are eccentric. When they are separated for a long time, Vole becomes so reserved and cautious he becomes cold and calculating while Streaker lets everything go and becomes maniacal.

Vole has backup plans upon back up plans, fears of treachery, and allows himself to be consumed by duty. Without his brother pushing him to express himself, he becomes increasingly quiet, his anxieties and fears churning and whirling inside him behind the separation in his mind he has created for himself so he can preform his duty without being distracted by his wild emotions, his fear, his longing, his anger. 

Streaker has no reservations. While still incredibly sensitive to others’ emotions, that has very much fallen to the wayside when his mental stability and overall health started falling through. Without Vole to screen his dumb ideas and make sure he doesn’t hurt himself, he basically goes insane. It wasn’t too bad at first, just a few dumb decisions, some slightly grey morals, and a failure to take himself to the damn infirmary. As time goes on, his grasp of right and wrong begins to slip. While he has always been sensitive to other people, Streaker has never been concerned with how other people actually feel, that has always been Vole. Streaker has always been mostly concerned with himself and how he is effected by other people’s emotions that than being concerned about other people’s reactions and thoughts like Vole who overthinks most interactions as a consequence. (S is also stir crazy and can’t keep still for very long. He doesn’t like the infirmary because they make him sit still for long amounts of time because of the injuries from crazy shit he pulls )

The two balance eachother out. Through interface, they get inside each other’s heads and see what the other doesn’t. They push each other to do what is most healthy and morally acceptable. Vole pushes Streaker through his thoughts and bashes his bad ideas. Streaker pushes Vole to react more often and emote. He quells his brother’s fears by impulsively proving them wrong. They search through each other’s memories for information they missed or didn’t understand when it went through their own processor the first time. Vole may have a hard time deciphering emotions, but his brother doesn’t and he uses that to figure out what is and isn’t acceptable for either of them to do. Streaker may not care about have the information he gets by being pushy and excitable but his brother does and uses that as reassurance and analyzes extensively. The two are a well oiled machine they literally cannot function properly without each other. The relationship is siblings is not normal at all, rather than being brothers, it is more like they are 2 halves of a whole. This is why they are often referred to as one entity with two bodies, 59, because really, they might as well be. Sure they’re two different people with their own lives and their own friends but they share the same memories they share their experiences, they share all their information, everything they know about anything the other knows. They don’t keep secrets unless it’s to protect their other half and even then it is extremely difficult to do that and function as they normally would because once the interface there is no holding back (it’s easy to tell when one of them is hiding something because they avoid their daily interface).

◦ Neither of them actually cares about other people, Vole because he can’t understand them and Streaker because he’s too concerned with him self.

◦ Death and pain is something they can’t process

◦ Vole tends to be overly cautious (I fell when I flew too high once (inside) so I’ll never to it again (even outside); Streaker helps him get over some of his paranoia by being a ducking twat)

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For a little more context look at Robits, The Epic Train Wreck Dumpsterfire of a Transformers sidestory AU