#and it's not about guilting other people for not immediately accepting that he's cool now either!

[vollereix]

HUGS PLEASE

genshin men X f!reader

characters: Albedo, Ayato, Childe, Cyno, Heizou, Kazuha, Thoma, Wanderer, Xiao

synopsis: asking them for a hug

warnings: none! pure fluff and comfort

ALBEDO

“oh, of course.”

He doesn’t pull away until you do, even if it means delaying his experiments for a little while.

Your arms were wrapped tightly around him, face hiding in the crook of his neck. Neither of you said anything, Albedo would plant a few kisses on your head, rubbing circles on your back.

Although he wasn’t the greatest at understanding human emotions, he could tell that you weren’t feeling your best and refrained from pushing you too much.

AYATO

You fidgeted nervously outside the door, it had been a few days since Ayato and you had some time together. You were feeling quite upset and lonely so you decided to approach him yourself.

Sliding open the door, Ayato looked up and gave you a warm smile. “Good evening love,” he gestured for you to sur next to him.

Positioning yourself on the floor, you mustered up your courage to ask him.

“Ayato, i know you’re busy but um do you think we could just hug for a bit…?” You looked down at your hands when he doesn’t give you an immediate response.

You were enveloped by his arms as he pulled you into his chest, ignoring the tall pile of paperwork. The moment you made your request, Ayato realised how long it’s been since he paid you much attention.

“Forgive me, i’ve been so caught up with my work that i neglected your needs.”

CHILDE

You didn’t exactly ask him, you kinda just went in from behind and refused to let go.

“oh? my, what do we have here!”

Childe would try to tease you a bit but upon seeing the way your grip just tightened around him he knew you weren’t feeling your best.

“Now now, there’s nothing to worry about, i’m here.” Wrapping his arms around you, the two of you would stay like that for some time.

Childe offers to talk about what’s been bothering you but whether you accept or not, he’d still happily give you all the encouragement you need.

CYNO

“you want a hug?” Cyno had to question you back to make sure he understood you correctly.

“mhm” you nod your head.

Cyno approached you and wrapped you in a warm hug. No words were exchanged, just the two of you relishing in each other’s presence.

Once you let go, he would ask if anything’s wrong. If you decide to tell him he’ll do whatever he can to help. If not he wouldn’t pry too much, just let’s you know that you can always talk to him.

HEIZOU

It was in fact Heizou who approached you and hugged you first.

“!!”

Heizou’s arms wrapped around your waist as he lay his head on your shoulder, giving you a smile. Before he could pull away, you grabbed hold of his hand, bringing him back to the hug.

He would tease you a bit, definitely squishes your cheeks.

KAZUHA

It was a quiet and windy night on the crux fleet, the two of you were stargazing. Despite the time, there were still a good number of people walking about.

“Kazuha it’s cold…” You whispered to him as a cool breeze brushed past you.

Instinctively, Kazuha scooted closer to you, taking you into his arms. You snuggled into him, a content smile gracing your face.

The sound of the waves slowly lulled you into a deep slumber.

THOMA

A hand around your waist and the other in your hair, keeping you close to him.

“is there anything you want to talk about?” Thoma gently brushed away a few strands of hair from your face.

“no, i just wanted to hug you.”

The two of you fell into silence once again. It wasn’t awkward, no. Just an understanding silence between the two of you.

WANDERER

“I don’t give hugs for free y’know?” An annoyed expression surfacing.

When you remained silent and didn’t continue talking, he felt just a tiny bit of guilt for saying that to you.

“Ugh fine come here…”

He opened his arms inviting you into a hug. A light blush tinted his cheeks as he looked away from your smiling face.

XIAO

“No, it’s too dangerous.”

Although he didn’t move away from you, you could tell that he had his doubts of being in such close proximity.

When you continued to pester him, he couldn’t help but give in.

“Just for a few seconds.”

You happily agreed, going in for the hug.

‘a few seconds’ turned into minutes. Neither of you pulled away, perhaps sensing that this hug was much needed.

[lilacmingi]

LIVING WITH 8 VAMPIRES | PART 3

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you are under 14 DO NOT read/interact with me or my works

Pairing: ATEEZ x fem reader (they’re not dating, but they flirt with her)

Word count: 7,913

Note: Alright. We’re all caught up now. This is the most recent part which was published earlier this week on my Wattpad. From here on out, any time I post a new part for this series on Wattpad it will be cross-posted here :)

You sat at work, bored out of your mind, fingers tapping on the nearest surface as you stared off into space. Your phone began to ring, catching your attention—it was a FaceTime call from Seonghwa.

Upon seeing his name pop up, you were confused. You accepted the call, watching the screen until the top part of Seonghwa's head showed up. All you could see was the top of his raven-colored hair and his eyebrows.

"Seonghwa, how did you—" You began to ask.

"Mingi taught me how to Face... Time." He explained.

You immediately begin to panic because of all people Seonghwa was the one FaceTimeing you.

"What's wrong?" You asked, knowing immediately that there had to be an issue back at home.

"My sanity is slowly leaving me." He answered.

"What? What's going on?"

"The boys have turned to savagery."

"Oh no."

You then hear a scream, and because Seonghwa is only showing the top of his head, you see Hongjoong in the background running past shouting, "Give it to me!"

He then pummels Wooyoung, tackling him to the ground, a loud thud resonating on the other end of the line.

"I have lost Hongjoong to the others." Seonghwa stated abruptly.

"Oh jeez." You muttered. "What happened?"

"I wish I could tell you."

"Listen. I have a lunch break in 10 minutes. Let everyone know I'm expecting a group FaceTime."

"Very well."

Seonghwa then attempted to hang up, his strong brows pulled together in concentration as he tapped the screen a few times before finally hanging up. You let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

•

When on your break, you went somewhere you could be alone because you knew the call you were about to make would be a messy one.

You FaceTimed Seonghwa, praying that he knew how to respond to a video chat call. It took a while before you got an answer. Yeosang's face popped up on the screen, his lips pressed together and brows scrunched in worry.

"Yeosang?"

"Seonghwa is a little... busy right now." Yeosang informed you as he propped the phone up somewhere, stepping back and taking a seat on the couch with the others.

Wooyoung's hair was an absolute mess. It was sticking up everywhere and looked as if it had been grabbed a few times, presumably by Hongjoong. The vampire kept his eyes focused on his hands that were clasped together on his lap. Hongjoong looked similar, his gaze stayed focused on the floor as his face showed immense guilt and shame. Mingi seemed shifty, his eyes looking everywhere but the phone. Jongho had his head resting against the back of the couch as he stared at the ceiling, letting out a long sigh. San's shirt appeared to be ripped and hanging off his shoulder, and Yunho had a rash on his cheek and upper neck.

You took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you stared at the seven boys on the couch. Yeosang looked rather worried as he stared into the camera, his leg bouncing nervously.

"Why am I so far away? You could've propped me up on the coffee table." You told the boys.

No one said a word and that made alarm bells go off in your head.

"Guys." You spoke, warningly.

"About that." Hongjoong stood up, slowly picking up the phone and showing you the broken coffee table.

You could see Seonghwa in the background pacing back and forth in a distressed manner.

You then heard a faint, "Oh no, our table. It's broken."

You didn't have to see the group on the screen to know it was Wooyoung.

"Shut up!" Hongjoong snapped.

You let out a long sigh, trying to keep your cool.

"I would like to enjoy the rest of my lunch break, because unlike you guys, I need food to survive. I expect a full explanation of this when I get home."

"Yes, Y/n." You heard some, if not all of the boys mutter collectively.

"Now, clean this mess up and let me talk to Seonghwa."

The phone gets handed back to the eldest. You assure him that you'll be home in a couple hours.

"Just please try not to kill them before I get back." You tell him.

"I shall try." He responded, his tone unnervingly even.

•

You stood in front of the eight vampires with crossed arms, eyeing each of them.

"Alright. Who's gonna tell me what happened?"

"We decided to play mafia." Yunho answered.

"That doesn't explain why the table is broken."

"Mingi was so upset about losing, that he broke the table." Yeosang spoke up.

"Hongjoong won, but amidst Mingi being so upset and breaking the table, Wooyoung took the prize back and tried to run away with it." Yunho added.

"A prize?" You asked.

"Yeah. To make things interesting, we decided to play for a prize." Yunho explained.

"What was the prize?" You asked, knowing you'd most likely regret it.

"A photo." Answered Wooyoung.

"What kind of photo?"

Wooyoung slowly pulled out a Polaroid photo of you sleeping. You quickly snatched it up.

"This is going with the rest of your contraband." You snapped.

The boys knew right away where that photo would be going. Inside your room, you had a drawer in your nightstand that had silver handles, so none of the boys could get inside.

"How come she always gets to touch that drawer and we can't?" Yunho asked when you left the room.

"The handles are made of silver, you idiot." Jongho muttered.

"I am so ashamed of myself." Hongjoong dropped his head in humiliation, wallowing in his own self-pity.

•

You made your way down the hall after putting some laundry away, pausing when you saw Yeosang standing in his room, staring at something. Out of curiosity, you poked your head into the room, checking out the situation. Yeosang stood, his eyes focused on a large painting of himself hanging on his bedroom wall. He wore an extravagant Victorian-style suit with a ruffled shirt and tailcoat; you know, typical vampire attire.

"What are you doing?" You asked aloud.

Yeosang glanced over his shoulder at you before answering.

"I want to update this portrait. It's outdated."

"You look exactly the same."

"No. My hair is different." He pointed, pulling at the long strands of hair in the back.

You chortled, shaking your head.

Gazing up at the portrait, you noticed a pinkish splotch next to his eye, tilting your head slightly in curiosity. You never noticed him with that mark before.

"I didn't know you had a birthmark." You commented.

"Ah." Yeosang reached up to touch the spot next to his eye where you assumed the birthmark was. "I started covering it up."

"Why?"

"I didn't like it."

"Well, I like it."

He gave you a timid smile. "You do?"

"Yes. You should stop covering it up. Based on this painting, I think it makes you unique."

"Do you know any painters?" Yeosang asked, trying not to show how flustered he was.

"No, sorry. I don't think portrait painters are very common these days."

Yeosang hummed to himself.

"I do have an alternative idea. You have a cell phone, why don't you just take a selfie? Or even better, we can have a mini photoshoot. What do you think?"

"I quite like that idea." He smiled.

After that, you both got to work, making a small set for the photoshoot. You took sheets and tacked them up for a background, then moved a fancy winged-back chair in front of it. Yeosang grabbed a few of his favorite trinkets and placed them on a table that he positioned beside the chair. Once everything was all set up, you instructed him to choose a nice outfit for the shoot. You offered to leave the room while he changed, but he said it wasn't necessary. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was in a completely different outfit, this one was a bit more modern than the previous one in the painting.

"Vampire speed." You muttered mostly to yourself.

The setup you'd thrown together looked incredible. You had found some red fabrics to drape along the white sheet background that really made the props stand out. It almost looked like a professional set. Before getting seated, Yeosang grabbed a handkerchief from his dresser and wiped away the makeup that concealed his birthmark, turning to you for an opinion.

"How do I look?" He asked.

"You look great." You smiled. "Now it's time for the fun part. We'll use my phone to take the photos and I'll send them to you if you want."

The vampire took a seat in the chair, figuring out a good position.

"Wait!" You exclaimed. "That pose is great. Stay like that."

Yeosang was situated slightly sideways in the seat, his right hand resting on the arm of the chair, the left resting in his lap. You made sure he was centered in the photo before snapping it.

"That one was good. Try another pose."

Yeosang positioned himself differently, trying out different poses as you took pictures.

"Wow. You look so handsome." You praised.

Yeosang seemed to get all flustered at your praises, muttering a small, "Thank you." as he moved around into another pose.

You then began shouting positive words of assurance like a real photographer.

"Perfect! That's it, that's it. Beautiful! Just like that!"

Yeosang really seemed to enjoy it because he kept chuckling and getting giggly.

Once you wrapped up the photoshoot, you made some adjustments to the photos before showing them to Yeosang, who was eager to get a look at them.

"I think there's a company that will make these pictures really big and put them in a nice frame." You told him as you scrolled through the photos.

"Really?" Yeosang asked, intrigued by this new information.

You nodded. "All we have to do is send whichever photo we like to them and pay a small fee."

"Let's do it!" He urged, excitedly.

"You said you wanted it to look like a painting, right?"

He nodded.

"I did a little something." You told him, swiping to one of the photos you edited to look like a painting.

He gasped. "Y/n, you're incredible! You created a painting from a photograph within seconds!"

"Actually, I just opened the photo in an editing app and put a filter on it that made it look like a painting." You explained.

"Ah. A filter. That's so cool." He grinned.

After Yeosang marveled over the magic of editing, you got to work placing an order for him. He was so excited, and unfortunately didn't quite understand shipping; he kept asking every thirty minutes or so if the picture would be here.

"Yeosang, it'll take a few weeks. Maybe even a month. They have to process the picture, print it, frame it, then send it."

"Ah. That's alright. I can wait."

•

You went outside to check the mail like you normally did, spotting a huge box on the doorstep. After getting the mail, you dragged the box inside. Yeosang just so happened to be standing in the living room when you stepped back inside the house. As soon as he saw the box he appeared at your side, his eyes glimmering with excitement.

"Is that what I think it is?" He asked.

"It is. Should we unbox it?"

"Yes!" He clapped, excitedly.

You removed the giant frame from the box, setting it upright so he could look at it.

"How does it look?"

Yeosang gasped. "It's magnificent."

"It is?"

"Yes! I have to hang it up right away." He took the giant photo from you with ease and hurried up the stairs.

You followed him to his room where he flew up to remove the old photo, setting it aside. He picked up the new one and ascended up to hang it on the wall in place of the former painting. Slowly, he lowered to the ground, stepping back to admire the new piece.

"I love it." He smiled, brightly, his tiny fangs on display. "Thank you, Y/n."

•

You looked down at the brand new table sitting in the living room, a proud smile on your face.

Seonghwa was devastated that his prized mahogany table had been destroyed, so you took it upon yourself to buy him a new one. It wasn't from the 1800s, but it looked pretty similar to the original. You scoured the Internet for the exact table, but deep down you knew you wouldn't find it. The piece of furniture was practically ancient, there was no replacing it. At the very least, you found a table that was similar.

"Seonghwa?" You called his name, heading up the stairs.

"Yes?"

You heard his voice behind you, causing you to spin around. He stood at the foot of the stairs, patiently waiting to see what you needed him for.

"Ah." You smiled softly. "I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?"

"Yes. Follow me." You walked past him leading him to the common room area, gesturing to the table with a grin.

"What is this?" He asked, running his fingers along the table's surface.

"I know how much that table meant to you, so I replaced it... sort of."

"You are not the one who broke it."

"I know."

"Then why?"

"Well, we needed a replacement. The living room looked empty without a coffee table. Also, like I said earlier I know how much you loved that table. Sorry this one isn't the same. The original was irreplaceable, but I did the best I could."

Seonghwa's lack of response was beginning to worry you, so you glanced over at him only to find that he was smiling.

"Thank you, Y/n. This means a great deal to me."

•

You stood outside the front doors of the mansion, feeling a bit on edge.

"My roommates are a little... strange. So if they say or do anything weird, just ignore them." You told your new friend, Chan, wanting him to know what he was possibly getting into.

Last time you brought friends over, San got jealous and ended up having an allergic reaction to the garlic bread you made.

"They can't be weirder than my roommates." Chan chuckled lightheartedly.

"They are." You responded. "I can almost guarantee it."

You pushed open the front door and all eight of your roommates were gathered in the living room, which wasn't unusual. They often spent time in the large gathering room doing their own thing, unless San or Wooyoung was off causing mischief.

"Y/n!" Yeosang piped up, a smile on his face, his eyes shimmering with joy.

That smile quickly dropped from his features when he saw Chan.

The rest of the boys turned towards you, their eyes immediately locked on your new friend. You paused for a moment, glancing back and forth between your roommates and the man beside you, noticing the very obvious tension in the room.

This happens every time I bring a guy friend over. You sighed internally.

"Who is this?" Asked Hongjoong, his sharp gaze pointed at the man standing awkwardly beside you.

"This is my new friend, Chan."

"Where did you meet... Chan?" He inquired, his voice dripping with annoyance when he uttered the name.

You'd never heard Hongjoong speak that way before, which made you wonder what was actually going on. He was one of the few respectful vampires in the house and was always so polite, but now he was the complete opposite.

"I met him last week when I went on a walk at the beach."

"I knew I should've accompanied you that day." You heard Hongjoong mutter under his breath.

Shuffling awkwardly, you announced that you and your new friend would go hang out elsewhere in the house, but Yeosang stopped you.

"Stay in here." He told you sternly.

Yeosang was yet another person you'd never really seen get angry or agitated. This was your first time hearing him speak so firmly.

"I suppose we can stay in here." You responded. "Come on, Chan. Make yourself at home."

"I wouldn't get too comfortable." Mingi commented in a low voice.

"Mingi." You scolded him quietly, surprised by his remark.

Chan seemed to pay no mind and took a seat beside Jongho. As you go to sit in the empty spot to the left of Chan, Wooyoung scooted over, sandwiching your new friend between him and the youngest vampire, leaving no room for you.

"Sit here." Yunho gestured to an empty spot beside him on the opposite end of the couch.

Suppressing a sigh, you head over, taking a seat between the arm of the sofa and Yunho.

"So," You started, glancing around the room. "what did you guys do while I was gone?"

"Nothing." Jongho answered without looking your way.

The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife and it was beginning to make you uncomfortable.

"Um." You cleared your throat. "I'm gonna go get something to drink. Chan, would you like anything?"

"I'm fine. Thank you, though."

You stood up and excused yourself from the room, needing to get away for a moment. The tightness in the space was so palpable it made you feel suffocated.

After you stepped out of the living room, the boys' eyes still lingered on Chan, not moving from him at all.

"So, this is a nice place." Chan smiled softly, wanting to ease the tension in the air.

"Don't make small talk with us." Snapped Yeosang.

"Jeez. I'm just trying to be polite. And you guys say I'm the dog."

"You are." Seonghwa remarked. "We are dignified and classy gentleman. You are a mutt."

"A mutt?" Chan turned to Seonghwa. "Real clever."

Chan knew they were just trying to get a rise out of him. They wanted to see him lose it and he wouldn't allow that to happen.

"You're not going to provoke me."

"We'll see about that." Hongjoong said.

"What's a human doing living with eight vampires anyway?" Chan asked, eyeing the group.

"She's our roommate." Yunho responded.

"And we take very good care of her." Mingi added firmly in a matter-of-fact manner.

Meanwhile, you had stepped outside on the back patio to get some fresh air for just a couple minutes. You only used getting a drink as an excuse to take a few moments to gather yourself. You'd seen the guys jealous before, but this was a new kind of jealousy, one that was almost possessive—territorial, even.

Once you felt a little less suffocated, you went back inside, hoping Chan was alright being left with your eight roommates. As soon as you stepped foot in the living room you were met with utter mayhem.

Seonghwa had his arms and half his body stretched over his new table, protecting it while chaos ensued around him.

"If any of you barbarians break my table I shall stake you myself with the remnants!" He hissed.

You stared in disbelief as you watched seven vampires battle with Chan, who you noticed looked a bit different. Amidst the mayhem and disorder you managed to spot bright yellow eyes and claws.

That's when it dawned on you.

You totally brought a werewolf into a house of vampires.

You unknowingly stood and watched it all go down with your mouth hanging open in disbelief, unable to process much of what you were witnessing. You had only left for three minutes maximum, how did this happen?

Yunho lunged forward, tackling Chan to the floor, both of them hissing and growling at each other, tumbling along the wooden boards. They barreled towards Seonghwa who lifted the table off the ground just as the two hit the floor. You didn't miss the way San and Wooyoung were off to the side cheering on Yunho.

Not a second later, Mingi came running into the room with rubber gloves on and a pair of tongs, holding a piece of your silver jewelry with it.

"Everyone stand back! I'm gonna French fry this sucker." He shouted.

"Look who you're calling a sucker, sucker!" Chan snapped, still trying to fight off Yunho.

"Oh yeah, real mature." San scoffed.

"Rip his throat out, Yunho!" Wooyoung shouted from beside his counterpart.

You'd had enough, you couldn't take it anymore. This behavior was absolutely barbaric and uncivilized.

"Enough!" You bellowed, causing the room to fall silent.

"Y/n!" Yeosang gasped, his eyes wide as he not-so-discreetly placed an old sword back onto its spot on the wall.

Jongho, who had picked up a lamp, was quick to drop it, the object clattering to the floor.

"Don't worry, Y/n. I'll protect you from this beast." Hongjoong stepped in front of you with one arm protectively held out.

"No." You shoved his arm away. "What's going on?"

"Y/n, I can explain." Chan pushed Yunho off him, getting to his feet. "I know this looks bad and you're probably really scared, but-"

"You're a werewolf. I can see that."

"Well, yes, but you're living with-"

"Vampires." You finished.

He paused, visibly surprised by your knowledge on that fact.

"You... you know?"

"Of course I know. They spilled the beans before I even moved in."

"And you're okay with it?"

"I am. What I'm not okay with is how uncivilized they are when it comes to guests." You eyed all of them sharply.

"Did they brainwash you? Did they bite you?" Chan stepped over, pulling your shirt collar down slightly to examine your neck for any bite marks, this causing all eight vampires to hiss at him.

You gently took his hand, pulling it away.

"No. They're all very respectful—for the most part." You eyed San and Wooyoung after saying that last part. "And they're all good at controlling their thirst."

"That's right." Yunho piped up.

"Butt out."

"Sorry." He murmured, lowering his head like a puppy that had just been scolded.

You sighed, turning to Chan once again.

"Are you alright? You didn't get hurt or anything, did you?"

He gave you a small chuckle. "I'm fine. A little banged up, but nothing that won't heal in a few minutes."

"Good." You nodded. "Sorry to cut the visit short, but I think it's best that you head home."

"I agree."

As you led Chan outside you glared at the boys, giving them the I've got my eye on you gesture before stepping out the door.

"I'm sorry I brought you into this." You apologized to Chan, who you noticed had returned to normal, no longer sporting yellow eyes, pointed ears, or sharp teeth.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it." He gave you a warm smile, dimples making an appearance on his cheeks.

"Had I known what you were, I wouldn't have brought you to my place. We would have gone somewhere else."

"Again, it's fine. You didn't know." He smiled, softly.

He got attacked by your vampire housemates and he's still being so understanding.

"I'm still sorry you had to experience that."

"Maybe next time I could take you to my place and you can meet my roommates." He offered. "They're a handful, but I think you'd like them."

"Yeah, like that'll ever happen." A muffled voice said from inside the house.

Glancing over, you saw Wooyoung with his face smushed against the window, the others standing behind him. Once you spotted them, they all scrambled away from the window. Suppressing a sigh, you turned back to Chan.

"I live with those doofuses, I'm sure I can handle a few werewolves."

"If you say so." He laughed softly.

After apologizing again, you bid Chan goodbye, agreeing to stay in touch and maybe schedule a day to meet his friends.

You made your way back inside to address the troublemakers, eyeing them as you paced around the room.

"What was all that about?" You questioned.

"He was going to take you away from us." Yunho pouted.

You sighed, walking over to the sullen-looking vampire, pulling him into a hug.

"He was not." You told him. "We're just friends."

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice muffled as his face was buried in your shoulder.

"Yes I'm sure."

"You can only be friends with one supernatural species." San frowned.

"Says who?" You challenged.

"Me."

"Well, I say you guys need to start trusting me more and stop being so territorial. I thought that was more of a werewolf thing anyway."

"As much as I hate being compared to those mutts, vampires are territorial too." Jongho stated. "If someone means a lot to us, we don't really like other people hanging around them."

Ignoring the heat in your cheeks, you pressed your lips together, choosing to look past the comment.

"I'd still prefer it if you guys would let me have other friends."

The eight vampires exchanged glances and though Jongho tried to put on a stern face, you could tell he was about to cave. Even Hongjoong, who was poking his tongue against his cheek in an agitated manner looked as if he were about to break.

"Please." You added.

And that's all it took to make them crumble. Hongjoong's form deflated and Jongho rolled his eyes begrudgingly as all eight of them grumbled collectively in agreement.

•

Seonghwa's brows were pulled together in frustration while his fingers tapped the screen of his iPhone. He hated the retched thing, but at the same time he was curious to know how it worked, but only a little. You had mentioned once about all the things you could do on the device besides texting. As he scrolled, he came across a video that grabbed his attention. He got to his feet right away and headed directly for your room making sure to knock first before he entered. He may have been in a hurry, but he didn't forget his manners.

"I have an inquiry."

"Okay."

"What is this?" He held his phone out to you.

On the screen was an ad for Disney+. It was flashing different clips from some of the movies offered on the platform.

"That's a streaming service like Netflix and Hulu."

Before he could tilt his head in confusion or ask what any of those things were, you continued.

"You can watch movies and shows on it."

"I desire to have it."

"You're in luck because I have a subscription." You smiled. "You'll need to download the app first."

"App." He murmured, trying to recall what that was.

"Here." You took his phone from him and opened up the App Store, letting him watch you from over your shoulder.

He didn't think he would ever download any of these "apps" but he would at least like to know how to do it just in case he changed his mind.

Once the app was downloaded you put in your  login information, allowing him access to your account.

"There." You handed the device back to him. "You can watch whatever you want."

"What is the one with the spaceships?"

"Hm?"

"I saw spaceships on the video for this application."

"Oh. That was probably Star Wars."

"Star Wars." He repeated. "I want to see that."

"Scroll through the movies."

He hesitantly placed his index finger on the screen, sliding it along the surface so he could browse through the list.

"There it is." You pointed. "Those are all the movies right there. There's also a few spin off shows which are like side stories, but you don't have to watch them. Not unless you want to."

"Ah." He nodded. "Which film do I start with?"

"They're all in order, so you start right here." You pointed on the screen. "And end here."

"There are nine?"

"Yep. But hey, you're a vampire. You don't really need sleep so you could binge watch all of them if you wanted."

"Binge watch?"

"It means to watch a series in one sitting wether that be a TV series or a movie series."

He nodded, making a mental note to jot that down in his notebook later.

"I will be going now. Thank you."

"Alright." You chuckled. "Have fun."

•

"Alright everyone." You announced giddily as you descended the stairs. "Who's ready for Medieval Times?"

You wanted to have a group outing with the guys and had been looking forward to the trip for a while, so much so that you decided to dress the part, decked out in renaissance wear with a corset and everything.

"I wonder what that corset looks like without the dress." Wooyoung whispered to San.

He received a swift elbow to the gut from Hongjoong, causing the younger vampire to double over and groan.

"Do not speak that way about a lady."

"Sorry." He wheezed out, clutching his stomach.

"Wow." Mingi gaped. "You look so pretty."

"You think so?" You asked, glancing down at your dress, smoothing out the fabric.

All eight boys nodded eagerly in agreement.

When you first pitched the idea of going to Medieval Times and watching a jousting match, everyone was on board, except for Seonghwa who made some comment about it being unrealistic. Of course, he ended up agreeing to tag along, albeit reluctantly.

"Come on." You beckoned, jingling the car keys.

As soon as you stepped foot in the establishment, after letting the guys take a few moments to marvel at the realistic castle exterior of the building, you made a stop at the gift shop so they could look around.

"Wow." Mingi gaped at a light-up sword, his eyes sparkling.

"What's that?" Yunho asked, looking over his friend's shoulder.

"A magic sword."

"I want one." Yunho reached forward and took one off the shelf.

Unbeknownst to the duo, Seonghwa was standing off to the side, his eyes widening.

"A saber of light." He whispered in awe.

In seconds, he was standing by Yunho and Mingi, his gaze stuck on the plastic light-up sword.

"Do you have any idea what you possess?"

"Yeah. A magic sword." Mingi stated.

"No. That is a saber of light."

"What?" Yunho snorted. "No it isn't."

"Yes it is."

"It is not."

"It is."

"Is not."

"That is a saber."

"It's a sword."

"Saber."

"Sword."

"Saber."

"Sword."

Meanwhile, you stood by Yeosang as he pulled a velvet cape off one of the display racks, examining it.

"I like this." He commented.

"Do you want it?"

He nodded.

"Well, if you're getting a king's cape, you need a crown too." You reached over and pulled a plastic gold crown off a stack, placing it delicately on Yeosang's head.

He gave you his signature small, closed mouth smile.

While you were preoccupied with Yeosang, Yunho and Seonghwa continued their arguing.

"Have you watched Star Wars?" The eldest inquired.

"No, but I know what a lightsaber is and this is not it."

"Yes it is."

"It is not."

Mingi, who had been watching the two go back and forth, walked over to you with the plastic toy that had caused so much commotion.

"Can I get this?" He asked.

"Of course."

Once out of the gift shop, Mingi and Yunho had the light-up swords they wanted so badly and of course Yeosang had on his royal ensemble, wearing it proudly. He looked very princely and seemingly more dignified than usual, fully embodying the princely persona you see him as. You couldn't seem to look away from him, mesmerized by his beauty.

"Are you sure you weren't a prince back in the 1800s?" You joked.

"Yes." He chuckled, his small laugh sounding so melodic. "I was just a simple townsperson."

"Y/n, please come and settle this quarrel." Hongjoong requested, rubbing his temples. "I've had enough of all the back and forth."

Trailing behind Hongjoong was Seonghwa and Yunho, both of them arguing about weather or not the light-up sword was a "saber of light" or not. It seemed as if the two of them had dragged Hongjoong into it.

"What's going on?" You asked the two.

"Yunho is infuriating. That weapon he wields is a saber of light."

"It's not." You told him. "That's just a light-up sword. Lightsabers don't have little plastic skulls on the hilt." You mentioned.

Seonghwa looked visibly disappointed.

"I told you." Yunho remarked.

Your footsteps came to a sudden halt as you realized there were only seven boys with you.

"Guys, wait." You glanced around. "Where's Yeosang?"

Before you could go into panic mode, he appeared, walking back over to the group.

"Where have you been?"

"I got offered a job."

Your mouth dropped open.

"I declined."

After purchasing tickets, you and your group proceeded to the entrance of the jousting hall, a couple employees standing by the opening with paper crowns.

"They're giving out crowns." Yunho nudged Mingi.

"Those are pathetic excuses for crowns." Seonghwa pointed out.

"Stop being a buzzkill, Seonghwa." Wooyoung muttered.

"A what?"

"C'mon guys." You gestured, entering the arena and going to find your seats.

Mingi wore his paper crown proudly, holding his light-up sword with a grin so large you thought his face might split in two. Yunho had accompanied him in wearing the paper headpiece, pretending to be a knight as he jabbed at the air.

"Human things are so fun." Mingi commented. "Back when I was human they didn't have cool swords like these."

You ended up sitting in between Hongjoong and unfortunately Wooyoung. It seemed as if the group had split themselves up and you were directly in between the calm group and the chaotic one. Yeosang, Seonghwa, Jongho, and Hongjoong to your left, Wooyoung, San, Mingi, and Yunho on your right.

You were in for a wild evening.

A staff member came by and informed you all that your knight would be the blue one and that booing the opposing team was highly encouraged, which seemed to excite San and Wooyoung greatly.

"The people in the different colored areas on either side of you are your allies." The staff member stated.

Seonghwa's face scrunched up. "What do you mean allies? It is every man for himself."

The employee chuckled, thinking the comment was made as a joke. "Enjoy the show, guys. By the way, I love that you all dressed up."

Hongjoong and Seonghwa shared a confused glance, but before the latter could speak up, you thanked the staff member and he walked off.

The show began shortly and it wasn't long before one of the staffs came walking by to serve you each some tomato soup that had been referred to as dragon's blood. Seonghwa looked at the server in disgust as the man poured the soup into the small bowl provided.

"Surely you do not expect me to consume this."

As if that wasn't bad enough, a slice of garlic bread, aka a dragon scale, was served with the soup which caused a lot of discomfort for the group. Seonghwa had visibly taken offense and started to accuse the server of trying to kill him while San discreetly pushed his plate away.

"I'm not doing that again." He shivered.

"Um. Would you like my garlic bread?" Hongjoong asked you, holding his plate out.

"Sure."

There was no way you were turning down extra garlic bread and since all eight of them couldn't consume garlic without breaking out in hives, you got eight extra pieces of the delicious bread.

The actors dressed as knights sat upon their horses, prancing around the arena and putting on a show while you ate. At some point, the queen came out, waving to the crowd while riding around. After the introduction ceremony, a man stepped out into the middle of the arena with a falcon on his arm. Everyone in the stands was advised to stay in their seats by the announcer. The falcon took to the air and flew around the arena, narrowly missing the tops of everyone's heads.

"Wow." You gaped in awe. "So pretty."

"I can catch it for you." Jongho responded without missing a beat.

The show proceeded and you were each served the main course, which Mingi and Yunho devoured, even if it didn't taste the same as it would have if they were still human. Mingi and Yunho were two of the four vampires that would indulge in a meal every once in a while, but they liked to have a glass of blood with it.

"How was it?" You asked the two, leaning forward so you could speak to them across San and Wooyoung who were seated to the right of you.

"Delicious, even if it doesn't provide any benefits to me." Mingi smiled. "Though I wish I had some blood. That would've made it taste better."

"You do." Wooyoung picked up his small cup of tomato soup, wiggling it in front of Mingi. "Dragon's blood."

The slightly older vampire laughed in response to Wooyoung's light humor.

"Well, if you really wanted blood, there is another option." San not-so-discreetly gestured towards you with his head.

Your jaw dropped and your hand immediately landed on his upper arm, delivering a stinging smack to it. Hongjoong, who had overheard San's comment stood up from his chair, ready to pounce on the younger vampire for being so disrespectful.

"Woah. Woah. Woah." You got to your feet and placed a hand on Hongjoong's shoulder, slowly lowering him back down to his seat before things could escalate.

"If we weren't in public I would rip your head clean off your body." He seethed.

"He's made that threat a hundred times. He's never done it." San whispered to you.

"Hm." You hummed. "I hope he follows through this time."

San's mouth fell open in shock.

Two knights stepped out onto the dirt flooring of the arena to battle, grabbing everyone's attention.

"Oh, this is where it gets good." Wooyoung nudged San.

They drew their swords and began swinging, blades clashing as they battled relentlessly. Impressed by their acting skills, you watched in awe while cheering on the blue knight.

Throughout the entire battle, Seonghwa was complaining about the reenactment not being accurate which you couldn't help but laugh at.

"Seonghwa, it's just for fun."

"They could at least make it realistic." He remarked.

"You weren't even alive during medieval times. How would you know if it's accurate?"

"You act as if I have never witness a sword fight."

"Have you?"

"Yes. Swords were still used in the 1800s."

At some point, you leaned over to check the right side of the group and make sure they were behaving. San, while continuing to watch the arena, tugged open the collar of his lace up shirt to expose more of his chest in hopes that you would notice—you pretended not to. There was no way you were giving him attention after that comment he made earlier.

Finally, after a few more brief performances and skits, the jousting began.

It wasn't long before Seonghwa began complaining again while Hongjoong and Jongho were in deep conversation. Even though you were all seated in the blue section and were told to cheer for your section and the colors on either side of you, they were speculating who would actually win, even if it was knights on the opposing side. Hongjoong even brought a pair of opera glasses, using them to observe the jousting match below, occasionally passing them to Jongho to point out different things about the knights.

"His form is off." Hongjoong commented.

"You're right. He's not gonna get a good hit with posture like that." Jongho shook his head in disapproval.

"Give me those." Seonghwa held his hand out.

He held the small binoculars up, gazing through them. "This is horrendous."

You turned to check on the other side of the group to find Wooyoung and San losing their minds, both chanting your section's designated color while pumping their fists in the air.

"Blue, blue, blue, blue!" They chorused.

"Destroy him!" Wooyoung shouted.

"Rip him apart!" San added.

Yunho looked like he wanted to join in, eventually yelling out, "Skewer him!"

On your way out, Mingi lightly grabbed the sleeve of your dress, tugging on it to get your attention.

"I want to be knighted. Can I?" He asked excitedly.

It wasn't often that the boys got to leave the house, so you agreed to let Mingi get knighted.

You watched in amusement as he stood behind a couple kids in line, the six foot tall vampire towering over them, his eyes sparkling with unadulterated joy.

He came back to the group with a bright smile on his face, talking about how he was officially a knight.

"Alright, Mingi. Are you ready to go now?" You asked.

"That's Sir Mingi." He corrected, puffing out his chest while holding his flashing light-up sword proudly.

"Oh, I see." You chortled. "Sir Mingi."

"That was the worst thing I have ever witnessed." Seonghwa commented as the nine of you left the building. "In today's words, it sucked."

"Woah! Look at you talking like a normal person." You chuckled.

"It was the only word adequate enough to describe the atrocities of which I just witnessed."

•

(The following scenes occurred before the boys got cell phones and were able to see themselves)

Since Hongjoong had become so interested in new mirrors that were made without silver, he wanted to buy one for the mansion. On an overcast evening, the both of you set off to a nearby household store.

"This way." You gestured, leading him to the back wall of the store where all the mirrors were displayed.

His eyes widened when he saw his full reflection for the first time in decades. His first thought was that he looked incredibly well-dressed in his black waistcoat and ruffled blouse, momentarily smoothing the fabric.

"You okay?" You asked.

He nodded, slowly approaching one of the mirrors, a large one with a black, metal frame that had a detailed design cut out of the material.

"This one."

"You don't want to look around some more?"

He shook his head. "This one is perfect."

As soon as you got home, Hongjoong started trying to figure out where to put the mirror, carrying it around the sitting area and holding it against different places on the wall. The new object caught the attention of some of the others who had been passing through.

Yeosang was one who stopped to watch, Mingi following after.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Mingi asked quietly to Yeosang.

The latter nodded, his large eyes staring widely at Hongjoong, who's reflection he could see clearly in the mirror.

"Here." Hongjoong finally announced.

You got to work right away, helping him to secure the mirror to the wall. Once in place, the both of you stepped back to admire the new piece decorating the living room. Hongjoong turned to Yeosang and Mingi, excitedly beckoning them over.

"Come look."

Mingi was downright terrified, his eyes staring warily at the mirror, brows furrowed and lips set into a pouty frown. Even Yeosang seemed hesitant. Despite that, he stepped up first, moving over to the mirror, jumping slightly when he saw his own reflection.

"What is this?" He inquired, stepping forward to tap the glass.

"Mirrors aren't made with silver anymore." Hongjoong told him.

"So we can see ourselves now?" Yeosang asked softly, staring at his reflection in awe.

"You can." You nodded.

"Mingi, come here." Yeosang beckoned.

In the most apprehensive manner, the vampire stepped forward, leaning forward just enough for the top of his head to appear in the mirror.

He gasped, jumping back.

"There's no need to be afraid, Mingi." You assured him with a light chuckle. "You can't be scared of your own reflection."

He seemed to toughen up after that, stepping directly in front of the mirror. His eyes were blown wide in disbelief. He hadn't seen himself in so long he had forgotten what he looked like. His look of surprise was quickly replaced with a prideful grin.

"I don't remember being so handsome." He smoothed his hair back.

Hongjoong and Yeosang were quick to shove him away from the mirror, rolling their eyes at his arrogance.

•

You passed through the living room, moving towards the stairs only to come to a stop when you saw San standing in front of the mirror. It had only been there for a few days and everyone seemed completely enamored with it at first, but San was the one who seemed to have the biggest attachment to it.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't stop looking at myself." He responded.

"How narcissistic of you." You remarked.

"Y/n, I don't think you understand. I haven't seen myself in centuries. This is weird."

"I'm sure you look exactly the same."

"I do."

"Then why do you keep standing in front of that thing?"

"Because I haven't been able to see my reflection in so long, I'm not used to it. Plus, I look really good. Don't you agree?"

You decided not to answer, exiting the room without turning back, not even when San called out to you, begging for a response.

"Come on!" He whined. "Just say yes!"

•

You cut away the tape excitedly, opening up the package you had been waiting for. Since giving Seonghwa your Disney+ password, he had become obsessed with Star Wars and wouldn't stop talking about it and trying to explain the plot to the guys.

Since he loved it so much, you thought it would be fun to surprise him with a little gift. He had shown a lot of interest in Darth Vader and mentioned how he was his favorite character, so you went online and bought him Darth Vader's lightsaber. You weren't sure if it was something he would enjoy or not, but considering any Star Wars fan would love a lightsaber, you figured it'd be a nice gift.

"Seonghwa!" You called for the oldest vampire.

He appeared before you in seconds, something you had gotten used to.

"I have a surprise for you." You beamed.

"What is the occasion?"

"Just because." You shrugged. "Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

He did as told, his palms facing upright while waiting patiently for your surprise.

Ever so carefully, you placed the lightsaber into his hands, telling him to open his eyes.

His brows were furrowed at first, however, it didn't take long for him to realize what he held.

"A saber." He murmured.

"It's Darth Vader's lightsaber." You pointed out.

"I know."

You were about to ask him if he liked it, but he turned around and started walking away.

Curious as to where he was heading, you moved behind him, following him to the living room. He reached for the sword that hung on the wall in the living room, removing it from its perch and replacing it with the lightsaber.

"There."

"So, you like it?" You asked.

"Very much so."

•

Jongho stepped into the large sitting room, finding Seonghwa removing one of the many swords that decorated the walls. Taking a glance around the room, he noticed all of the swords displayed had been replaced with what he could only assume were lightsabers. Seonghwa hadn't shut up about the things since binging the Star Wars movies.

"What are you doing?" Jongho asked.

Seonghwa placed the last lightsaber into its holder before stepping away to admire his work.

"We are now a modern household."

Part 1 | Part 2 |

Masterlist ᝰ

Do not steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

[biteofcherry]

I love the thought of Lloyd kidnapping his wife and training her to be the perfect little housewife and then once she’s good and learns he’s so soft with her and a loving hubby but turns immediately as soon as she steps one foot outta line 😳

Paradise island

Lloyd Hansen x female reader

warnings: housewife kink; kidnapping; forced relationship; dub-con; discipline; smut;

~ * ~ 

“Look at you, sunshine” Lloyd murmured, his gaze appreciative as it slid over your body.

“Ain’t you perfect,” he hummed, pressing his thumb against your lips and smudging your red lipstick - a stroke of ruby red against your cheek. 

He slipped that thumb into your mouth, grinning triumphantly when you hollowed your cheeks and sucked without prompting.

You were quickly learning to attend to his whims, predict them too. A self preservation instinct to avoid a repeat of the pain he bestowed upon you when you fought back. The fire in you seemed to turn Lloyd on, but not as much as he enjoyed putting it down by making you yield.

The welts on your ass and tights were still raised after Lloyd used a rattan cane on you. 

It was thin and flexible, and hurt like motherfucker.

Hurt more than his bare hand he used on you at first. Perhaps also because when Lloyd spanked you, he fingered you too, made you cum and made you love the ache of it. 

The cane brought no instant pleasure, only tears and burning that lasted long.  

Afterwards, Lloyd made you clean the house in nothing but an apron, so he could watch:

“My disobedient wife carrying marks of my discipline as she learns her place.”

Your place was supposed to be as his sweet housewife; a twisted version of it he started fantasizing about after watching you interact with your actual husband. Whom Lloyd killed. 

The contract for your husband’s head came first and it was as Lloyd carried it out that he got a chance to see you. You knew by now that your husband would be dead anyway, but it didn’t fully erase your guilt. There was still that voice in the back of your head wondering if he could survive if Lloyd didn’t develop a sick obsession with you.

You don’t know if it was the apple pie that you baked that day, or the happy smile on your face as you walked barefoot into the backyard to hang out freshly washed sheets, or maybe he saw you hike up your skirt and ride your husband on a chair by the kitchen table.

Whatever instigated Lloyd’s fantasies, he was adamant on making them come true for him immediately.

He took you from your home, after disposing of your husband. His laugh sinister and his promises lewd as he injected you with something. 

You woke hours later in a house on a private island, no other people to help you out, no boat to take you away across the endless ocean. 

Weeks of rebelling, crying, trying to fight Lloyd physically. Weeks of manipulation, sweet and condescending words, discipline that twisted your mind with how it combined pain and pleasure. You finally started giving in, started accepting there’s no other way to live your life out now than to play into Lloyd’s housewife kink and spare yourself more suffering.

What’s worse, you began settling in. Focusing on simple, daily chores relaxed you. Frantic thoughts about lost life had no chance to bloom when you had your hands busy and your mind set on thinking of how to please your husband each day. 

You went on long walks; sometimes alone, sometimes hand in hand with Lloyd. The island was like a little paradise. The sand was nearly white, so soft beneath your feet. Green tones of trees and bushes were more lush, and the flowers bloomed in splashes of brilliant colors.

The water was so clear you could see and chase little, colorful fish. Cool on your sun-heated skin as you traded through it, or swam. In scandalous bikinis or naked, so Lloyd could enjoy the view as he watched from a lounging chair, sipping on a drink.

When you gave in, Lloyd gave back in return. 

With expensive gifts, as well the more meaningful ones that made your head spin in confusion (like a swing he had delivered and built for you in a shaded nook in the garden). He often lavished you with his attention and time, when he wasn't away on a mission. Weirdly, he gave you more attention than your late husband had.

His dick was more than your late husband's, too.

Lloyd loved to fuck you. A lot. It was never love making, even if he took you slow and gentle it had a raw edge to it that couldn't be described as anything other than fucking.

He fucked you so good you forgot your own name. Turned you into a mess, only able to mewl and cry.

There wasn't a space or an occasion Lloyd wouldn't use for sexual adventures. And he made them unforgettably creative.

So you wore the dresses he bought you. Cooked meals and baked pies. You cleaned the house, tended the garden, went on walks along the beach. 

And you stood perfectly still when Lloyd came back home after a business trip and ran a thorough inspection.

Not much a house inspection, more a wife inspection.

His piercing blue eyes bore into yours, checking if the rebellious fire was dimmed. His words sweet, but provoking, testing your submission. His touch made sure your body still responded as eagerly as he trained you to.

As he’s done now.

Lloyd pressed your tongue down with his thumb, until more saliva pooled in and you gurgled. He withdrew his digit after a moment, delicately took your fingers into his hand and twirled you around three times. 

The skirt of your dress flared, your bare feet sliding on the polished hardwood floors. 

He pulled you to him, his hand firm against your back as he kept you in place while he slid his other hand beneath your dress. His pleasant hum at finding you bare made you drop your shoulders in relief; he was happy with you. 

“Now tell me, Sunshine, what are we making for dinner?” He kissed you, almost softly, just a hint of his usual roughness. His mustache tickled your upper lip, as his fingers brushed over your folds. 

“We?” You blinked, surprised. “You- you’re going to help?” 

Lloyd often watched you cook, if he was in the house at the time. Occasionally he handed you ingredients, but he never attempted to actually cook. No, that was a wife’s duty. 

“Of course,” he flashed you a grin that instantly had your heart jumping, “I’ll help you work on your focus.”

He turned you around, leading you to the kitchen counter. You braced your hands against it as Lloyd pulled your dress up over your ass. 

“You’ll do your best preparing dinner and I’ll introduce you to our new project.”

You didn't have the courage to ask about the project. Knowing Lloyd it will be something that leaves you torn and gasping, giving in anyway, even if your mind screams No.

Lloyd dropped to his knees behind you. His lips trailed along one of the welts on your ass, treating your bruised skin with tenderness. You knew better than to assume it's guilt or care, more likely reverent appreciation of his own handwork.

"You look so beautiful with my marks," Lloyd licked one of the welts, from one edge to the other.

"Go on," he ushered you, noticing you weren't working on dinner. "I don't want us to stay hungry for long after I'm done with you."

With shaky hands you reached for the tomatoe. You had to still your breath as your fingers wrapped around the knife's handle.

It turned ragged quickly, anyway, as Lloyd spread your asscheeks and bit into your pussy. First expert licks between your folds were merely a prep before the assault. Lloyd's tongue drew zigzags across your cunt, dipping into your entrance then withdrawing to lash your clit with rapid licks.

A jolt of pleasure, when he sucked you to the brink of ecstasy, made you lose control of your limbs - your fingers squeezing half of a cut tomato, the juices squirting all over the counter.

You fell forward, trying to grasp at a fresh one, but you could only claw at the cool surface of the kitchen counter as Lloyd's mouth moved to your other hole.

He pushed his tongue into your rim at the same time thrusting two of his fingers into your fluttering channel.

A firm slap on your tender ass caused you to cry out, your legs kicking out in futile attempt to save you from the onslaught.

And yet your cunt tightened around Lloyd's fingers.

"Sunshine-" he sang the word playfully as he stood up and pressed himself against you.

His mustache tickled your ear when he pressed his lips to it, his tongue licking lewdly over the shell.

The sound of a zipper lowering had you tense up in anticipation of that insanely good stretch. No matter how many times Lloyd took you, it seemed his cock was always too big for your pussy to get used to.

"We have to work on your multitasking skills." Lloyd chuckled, kicking your legs wider apart.

"You will need it when our little rascals start running around."

Your didn't fully register his words, the slam of his cock making your brain sizzle with s different shock. You shattered in a sudden climax, your body involuntarily opening up to Lloyd's project.

"Fuck yeah!" He moaned, pushing your head down on the counter, your cheek pressed into tomato pulp, as he pounded into you.

[roses-r-rosie3]

miguel x Alchemax reader

reader used miguel and ended up giving him drugs to destabilize him because they were loyal to Alchemax. in the society after a long time dating they finally admit they used him

it goes into miguel’s pov focus on lyrics

Hate to give the satisfaction asking how you're doing now

How's the castle built off people you pretend to care about?

Just what you wanted

Look at you, cool guy, you got it

I see the parties and the diamonds sometimes when I close my eyes

Six months of torture you sold as some forbidden paradise

I loved you truly

You gotta laugh at the stupidity

[Chorus]

'Cause I've made some real big mistakes

But you make the worst one look fine

I should've known it was strange

You only come out at night

I used to think I was smart

But you made me look so naive

The way you sold me for parts

sorry if i it’s to much

Vampire

Miguel O’Hara x M!Reader

Warnings: Angst, swearing, drugging, divorce

Quote: “NO! It never would have benefited both of us! It would have only benefited YOU! Not US! YOU!”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You and Miguel were dating back when he was still working for Alchemex. You two would always flirt with each other while you were there, and all the flirting eventually lead up to the two of you dating. But the whole thing with a subject dying and stone drugging him, Miguel quit Alchemex.

You however, you were about to quit too after you heard about what happened. But stone was aware of this and he had a plan that could benefit him. He knew about your relationship with Miguel so he called you to his office and offered you a raise if you continued to drug Miguel. You were reluctant at first, but the more you thought about it, the more you started to think about the benefits, and you accepted it. So You lied and told Miguel that you quit Alchemex.

The first time you had to drug Miguel was while he was asleep, after doing it, you immediately felt bad, but you decided to make it up to him by taking him to the mall and buying him whatever he wanted.

“Y/n where did you get all this money from? Didn’t you just quit?” Miguel jokingly asked.

“I found a job that had a high salary, now are you gonna be nosy or are you gonna continue shopping” you fake laughed.

Miguel was a bit suspicious but quickly forgot about it after the two of you were done shopping. The time came and you had to drug Miguel again, and you once again did it while he was asleep. And little did you know 2 times turned into 3 and three turned into a 10 whole years.

You and Miguel’s relationship still remained untouched though, you two still had the same love for each other as when you first met. Miguel even proposed to you, to which you happily accepted, and the two of you got married. However, Miguel was getting noticeably more weak, and you were getting more and more guilty about doing this to him.

You finally had enough. You couldn’t just keep hurting Miguel and act like nothing is wrong. You knew Miguel probably wouldn’t want to be with you, but he deserved to know the truth.

“Hey Miguel can we talk?” You asked.

“Of course baby” Miguel said as he scooted over for you to lay next to him in your shared bed.

You sat on the edge of the bed with your back facing towards him.

“Okay what’s wrong? Is something bothering you?” Miguel asked in concern.

You just broke down in tears, letting out all the guilt that has been building up for the past 10 years.

“Hey, hey, baby just tell me what’s wrong” Miguel said as he hugged you.

“No Miguel, I don’t deserve you” you sobbed.

“Of course you do-”

“No Miguel, I don’t! I’m still working for Alchemex! Stone offered me a raise if I drugged you! And I’ve been doing it for the past 10 years while you were asleep! I can’t do it anymore!” You cried.

“You- you what?” Miguel said, his voice got darker.

“I’m so sorry Miguel, it would have benefited both of us” you tried to plead.

Miguel backed away from you and got off of the bed.

“NO! It never would have benefited both of us! It would have only benefited YOU! Not US! YOU!” Miguel yelled.

“Miguel please-”

“So what?!? You think a simple little apology is going to fix the 10 years of damage you’ve done to me!” Miguel screamed at you.

“I never meant for any of this to happen Miguel, I’m sorry” you croaked.

“So you didn’t mean to take the money?! You didn’t mean drug me?! You didn’t mean to use me?! You used me as a pawn in your little game! You’re pathetic y/n!” Miguel roared.

“I really did love you Miguel, I really wanted to build a family with you” you said weakly.

“Well guess what y/n?! You ruined that family! You ruined our relationship! So what if we did end up adopting a kid?! Would you have still drug me while both me and our kid were asleep?!” Miguel yelled.

“I really thought I could trust you y/n! I really thought you and me would be forever!” Miguel yelled.

“I’m sorry Miguel” you said.

“Stop saying sorry y/n! You weren’t ever sorry for the past 10 years!” Miguel screamed.

It went radio silent for a good 3 minutes after Miguel said that.

“I’m leaving” Miguel said before storming out of your shared house.

You were left there with the consequences of your own actions. You cried yourself to sleep that day. When you woke up, you reached over to Miguel's side of the bed, hoping to feel Miguel's warm body next to you, but instead, you got the feeling of cold sheets.

Before you knew it one day of Miguel being gone turned into one week. At that point, you were feeling hopeless. Until you heard your door bell ring. You rushed to the door to see who it was. When you opened the door, you saw Miguel, but he was holding a paper in his hands.

Miguel shoved the paper into your hands and you looked at it. When you looked at it, and you read through it. It felt like you were hit by a train when you finally realized it was divorce papers, and Miguel already signed his name. You looked up at Miguel with tears starting build up in your eyes once again.

"You really want this?" You trembled.

"Yes y/n, we're over" Miguel said calmly.

It hurt you that Miguel was so calm about it, after all the memories you two built together. But it was only fair because of what you did to him, so you signed the papers and handed it back to Miguel.

"Goodbye Miguel" you sighed as Miguel walked away from your once beloved house of memories.

[ghoastixx]

Platonic Tord x GN Teen reader

(Unfinished) -I started writing this months ago.

An: a bit of a backstory cause this is sort of based off of a thing I’ve been doing- so basically the reader was apart of the Red Army since they were little and was raised in it to be a soldier. They never went to school and they never knew their parents, the red army supplied them with schooling and training. A few years later Tord, who had been working more personally with the reader, was like “yeah.. this.. I like this kid, this kid is mine now.” And pulls the reader from the army (most likely against their will) and adopts them. This takes place during The End part 1 and 2 and will be manipulated a lot- wouldn’t be fanfiction if we stuck to the original plot- right-? Haha-

Serious an: this is about the fictional character of Tord, not the real person. Leave the man alone, let him live his life. Y’all should know how to respect people, it’s not very hard. This is purely a platonic, fictional writing, between two fictional people. Got it? Cool. :)) Gave Tord the last name of “Red”

Warnings: none

———————————————————————————

The sound of lock picking was bouncing off the walls of the quiet house. Nobody was there accept for the red leader and one of his soldiers.. or, that’s what anybody else would think. Tord Red was currently trying to pick the lock of his old room in his old friend Edd’s house. There was a kid standing watch, Tord’s adopted kid. They used to be a soldier in the Red Army, having an array of different scars or other healed wounds, but right now, the only thing they were guarding was two suitcases, one was theirs and one was Tord’s. The kid seemed a little anxious, not really knowing how to act. This wasn’t like their stereotypical mission like when they were back in the army.

<flashhhbackkk>

They walked into the Red Leader’s office, shoulders and head held high, much like a soldier still.

“Sir, I- uh, sorry. Tord.”

The red leader looked up at them and smiled warmly,

“Y/n, take a seat.”

They sat in front of his desk, as they had done many times.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” As much as Tord requested them to call him by his name, it was hard to break a habit.

“Yes, I wanted to tell you of an upcoming mission I’ve planned.” Their eyes seemed to shine a bit at the mention of a mission. Tord noticed this and felt a little guilt. “It will be a mission with me, and it doesn’t involve and fighting, kiddo.”

“Oh?” Tord nodded,

“We’ll be flying out to London and living there for a while, with a few of my old roommates, Tom, Matt, and Edd. They have something of mine that could benefit the army in a great way that I’ve kept there for a while. We’re going to be living their for a few months until I can safely take it and come back.”

“And you want me to come along?” They asked, a little uneasy.

“Of course, you’re my kid. Plus, it’ll be good for you to socialize, kjære (dear), they will trust me more when they see I have a kid too..”

“Alright.. you have a point.”

“Good, I’m glad we have an understanding.”

<scene end>

Tord struggled with the lock as they looked around at the walls, looking at photos and trying to catch a glance at Edd’s cat which Tord had said was named Ringo. Suddenly, the front door opened, Tord didn’t seem to notice right away, and if he did, he was too occupied with the lock. Y/n backed into the shadow where tord was standing, to avoid immediately being seen.

“Harpoons, harpoons, they are better than spoons,” one of the voices got closer, he was carrying a few harpoons and was getting very close. He suddenly spotted the two and pointed a harpoon at them.

“Ah! Who goes there!” Tord looked up and walked into the light, the man who had no eyes’s face dropped instantly… this must’ve been Tom.

“What’s going on here?” A man in green, Edd, and a man in purple, Matt, came over, seeing Tord.

“Hallo, old friends.” Tord spoke, Y/n stayed in the dark a bit, watching. On guard. Even though they weren’t a soldier anymore, they constantly still felt like one. It was hard to get out of the mindset.

Edd hugged Tord, Tom spoke.

“What’s he doing here?” Edd and Matt had this big explanation thing, but Y/n didn’t pay any attention. They were focusing on their surroundings.. the harpoons, the people. Suddenly they were spotted.

“Tord, who’s this?” Tord looked over his shoulder, seeing them, and motioning for them to come out.

“This is Y/n Red. My kid.”

“Kid?”

“Kid!”

“Kid?!”

They all said in sync,

“Yeah- hi,”

Tom cut in, “how can they be your kid? They are a teenager.”

“Tom don’t be rude, besides, we knew Tord was coming anyways, I don’t know why you’re making such a big fuss about this.”

Y/n looked around, a little nervous, they felt all the eyes looking over them. “Sorry if my dad didn’t tell you I was coming, I assumed he would’ve.”

Tord looked over, his eyes sort of softening as he processed what they said. Y/n had never called him dad before.

“It’s alright Y/n, come with me, tell me what type of skincare you use. You’re practically glowing!” Matt said, dragging Y/n off.

“There is no way they are your kid.”

“I adopted them,” Tord shifted a bit, awkwardly. Edd stood between them.

“Well, I think it’s great, having Y/n around will be fun.” Edd tried to keep some enthusiasm as they went over sleeping situations. Eventually, all the boys came out to the living room to find Matt showing Y/n a scar concealer, much to Y/n’s amusement. Tord looked a little surprised, Y/n seemed to feel comfortable around Matt enough to let them see this part of them.. it was odd. They still acted like a soldier but now they looked like an interested kid..

Tom leaned on the couch, “so, Y/n, where you get all those marks?”

“Uh-“ Tord saw Y/n tense up a bit and look over at him, “oh- you know how rough the city is. Work’s tough y’know- Uncle Matt here is just showing me how to cover them up a bit-“

Tom noticed how their accent was like Tord’s, seeming to focus more on that rather than the actual answer. Edd went into the kitchen and got out a cola.

“So, Y/n, how’s school?” He asked, Tord leaned on the wall, watching this unfold.

“Oh, I’m homeschooled.” Y/n replied quickly, like they had already thought that answer though.

“Homeschooled?” Tom asked. “By tord?”

“Tord? No, dad doesn’t teach me. Just my other uncles. They taught me all I need to know.”

“That’s cool,” Edd responded. “Anything fun you like to do?”

“Well,” Y/n thought to themselves. “I like to read when I have a break.”

Tord perked up, he didn’t know that. He listened as Y/n talked to the boys before chiming in,

“Y/n, kiddo, can you come with me for a second, I want to show you our room.” Y/n, very politely, excused themselves and followed Tord down the hall. As soon as Y/n was out of eyeshot, they straightened their posture, becoming serious and straight, falling back into their soldier mold.

Tord opened the door and showed them the room they were gonna share, and let them set some of their stuff up.

“You sure you won’t mind me, sir?”

“Not at all, Y/n.. you don’t have to call me sir,”

“Sorry Tord.”

“It’s okay, kid. Can I ask you a question?”

“Hm?” They turned around to look at him.

“Are you ashamed of your scars?” Y/n seemed to be taken off guard by this.

“Well.. no. They all have a story I guess. Some are just, uglier than others.”

“I see… you know, you don’t have to call me dad in front of them if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Y/n kept eye contact, “im alright with it.. that Tom guy really asks a lot of questions, doesn’t he?”

Tord laughed a bit, “yeah, he’s a nuisance.”

[nutzgunray-lvt]

Best Jeanist Headcanon (Part 1)

In response to my post about Quirk marriages and how underutilized the idea was in the story, @doodlegirl1998 brought up a personal headcanon of theirs that Best Jeanist is the product of such a union. I wound up loving it so much that I decided to conduct my own elaboration on this theory.

Given from what we've seen so far (the ONLY time we've seen this 🙄), Quirk marriages seemed to be prevalent in wealthy families that had possession of powerful Quirks. Quirk marriages came into being during the 2nd-3rd generation of Quirks, back when the world was still reeling from societal collapse/AFO's reign of terror. Maybe they came into place to have their child be the one to rebuild Japan, bring Japan under their control, or just to make sure their Quirk lived on through the collapse. My point is, I don't think it's a coincidence that Quirk marriages came into place not long after the Dawn of Quirks.

Now, back to Best Jeanist, I'd even go as far as saying that Best Jeanist is a second-generation Quirk marriage child (admittedly because it's a cool idea). One of his grandparents saw the potential in either their Fiber Master Quirk or their Quirk that would one day form the Fiber Master Quirk (a fabric related Quirk), and arranged their own marriage to someone with a similar Quirk. This grandparent had managed to secure their wealth in Okayama during and after the collapse, or they were middle-upper class social climbers.

Either way, this would result in the conception of Best Jeanist's father (to respect @doodlegirl1998's theory).

Given how there's no official timeline set in stone, we're not told when exactly heroics schools were founded and became held to the high standard that they are today. But given how Quirk marriages appear to be exclusive to heroes (again, we're never told otherwise 🙃), I'd say that Best Jeanist's paternal grandparent was perhaps a vigilante who saw potential in their Quirk, and upon seeing how their son inherited the fabric controlling Quirk, they had him train to be a future hero - whether this made him among the first students at UA or Shiketsu, or he had him undergo brutal training at their hands.

Given how I brought up the family's possible wealth, I'd also headcanon Best Jeanist having at least one or two siblings - one being Quirkless and the other having a lessar form of Fiber Master. With this being back when Quirklessness was much more common of a thing, I'd make Best Jeanist's grandparent force their Quirkless child to succeed them in managing the family wealth (essentially a public face for the family) and also force their other Quirked child to become a hero. As the two grew up, Best Jeanist's future father accepted the role pushed onto him while their sibling didn't, leading to estrangement between the two.

With his father being an adult, he was arranged to marry a wealthy woman with a telekinetic mastery over carbon fibers. This would result in the conception of Best Jeanist, who happened to have the Fiber Master Quirk.

Given both his family's weath and the type of family he was born into, Jeanist's life was not up to him to decide. As soon as his Quirk awakened, he was immediately put under the tutelage of both his father and grandparent to hone his Quirk. They'd also only let him socialize with those deemed "acceptable" enough in order to both widen and secure their network of high ranked society people. In reality, he'd wanted to potentially use his Quirk to operate his own fashion line. It wouldn't be the first time someone did that, but it was still uncommon enough for it to potentially get his name out in the open. Also, it was just a cool idea that was perfect, given the Quirk he had. While they would be blatantly unrelenting that he one day become a hero, his mother would be a different kind of manipulator. She would guilt trip him into conforming to this training with the classic, "other children aren't lucky to have such an involved family as you!" and "how could we not nurture such amazing potential? You'd be a third generation hero that's keeping up the family tradition!"

I'm assuming that at this point and time, UA was becoming an incredibly reputable school, so I'd also think that they'd have him undergo numerous tutoring sessions to one day take and pass the written exam. They'd hire Quirk counselors to iron out the kinks of Fiber Master, give him mock interviews (of course he was getting in as a recommendation student!), and make him undergo mock run after mock run of the practical exam.

Eventually, it all paid off in the eyes of his family. Best Jeanist not only secured an invitation to take the recommendation students' exam, but he scored second overall, guaranteeing his spot at UA.

[funnylittlelad]

A Touch of Humanity - Din Djarin x gn!reader

re-edited (Feb. 2023)

Read on AO3 - Masterlist

Part II: Endor

Part I | Part III

summary: Din takes you to plenty of places, but there's something about Endor. Something that pushes the two of you closer together than ever. As you begin to accept your voluntary role as Grogu's second parent, Din makes some hefty realizations. You just wish you didn't have to leave Endor. Especially when you find what's waiting for you on the other side.

word count: 11.2k

tags/warnings: fluff, Dad of the year Din, my love for Ewoks prevails, Grogu the menace but also Grogu the matchmaker, domestic bliss, co-parenting, the helmet comes OFF (technically), gift giving is Din's love language, I used canonical places and history until there was no more to go off of and then made up my own to flesh it out, description of anxiety/panic attack

“I need you to breathe,” Din’s voice comes in distant and urgent.

Breathe, right. You need to breathe. 

“C’mon, in one, two, three. Out one, two, three,” Din helps you count your breaths.

When the heaving of your chest comes to a stop, the Razor Crest ceases spinning around you. Everything is steady. Grogu looks up at you from your lap worriedly. Panic dies down to anxiety, allowing thoughts to once again process.

“Are you okay?” Din asks with his hands on your shoulders. 

You didn’t notice him get out of his seat and kneel in front of you. His firm grasp anchors you in the Crest.

“Yeah, I’m good- I’m okay,” you nod.

Din is relieved to see your eyes focus again. One moment you were talking about how striking Nabu looks from space. The next you were hyperventilating. 

“What happened?” 

He doesn’t remove his hands. You don’t intend to ask him to. Not right now at least. For a second time, you wish you could see Din’s face. You wonder what his eyes look like, what color they are. Are they round, or almond-shaped? Are his eyelids hooded? Would their gaze cradle you in tenderness and convince you that everything will be okay the way his hands are? The Corellian silk cools the top of your head, grounding you further. 

“Home is so far away,” you answer quietly.

Guilt strikes through Din’s chest. Maybe asking you to come was selfish. He took a fish out of the water and wondered why it couldn’t breathe. 

“I can take you back. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” he tells you gently.

You’re immediately shaking your head.

“Are you joking? This is everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s just… a lot. I think I need some time to adjust.”

Din nods.

“All you have to do is ask and you’ll be home.”

You give Din a warm smile. One of your hands comes up to cover his gloved one. 

“Thank you, Din. For everything.”

Once again, he nods. Then his hands are gone leaving you to miss their weight. He’s back in the pilot’s seat in a blink. Grogu coos in your lap and gives you a tiny embrace. You hug him back, scratching behind his ears. He purrs at the feeling, eyes falling shut. It makes you chuckle. Din takes the sound as a final signal that you’re okay and begins the journey away from Naboo.

***

Tatooine is so much hotter than you expected. The Corellian silk on your head does an excellent job of keeping you from sweating into your eyes, but you still feel like you’re in an oven.

“I understand why you called this place a boiling Sarlacc pit,” you tell Din as you follow him through the streets of Mos Eisley. 

“We won’t be here long,” he assures you.

Grogu is on your back. You fastened the leather pouch Din puts him in to act as a sort of backpack. The kid’s head is all that’s visible over your shoulder. He coos in your ear when you turn down a street with a stunning view of the Mos Eisley market. It’s a burst of color in an otherwise drab setting. Pigmented cloth awnings, bright fruits and veggies, and all sorts of curiosities to look at. Not to mention the wide array of people. You’ve never seen so many people in one place. Din halts when he notices you have.

“You think so?” you ask Grogu. 

Another little coo. You nod and look back at Din.

“We’re going to camp out here while you get your next job,” you smile.

“Are you sure?” He asks, sounding extremely uncertain.

You pull out your spiral-bound sketchbook that had been looped through the straps against your back. The pencil slides out of the spiral spine into your hand and you hold it up.

“My muse is telling me this is the spot.”

Grogu gurgles in confirmation. Din hesitates. He glances over his shoulder at the market. Surveying the bustling crowd, he sighs. Mos Eisley is a strange new land for you, but you’re an adult. He trusts you in Dee’ja Peak. He has to trust you in Mos Eisley until you give him a reason not to. 

“Keep an eye on things. Any sign of trouble go back to the Crest,” he orders.

“I can handle myself.”

“I was talking to him,” he nods toward Grogu.

Your mouth snaps shut. An indignant pout takes over your face. 

“You’re really telling the kid to keep an eye on things?” 

Din shrugs.

“He’s older than you.”

You scoff and cross your arms.

“He’s still a kid, though,” you argue.

Din looks to Grogu over your shoulder again.

“Watch this one,” his helmet tilts back so you know he’s looking at you, “respect your elders.”

Then he treks away to the sound of your laughter. You find a spot out of the way beside one of the many tan buildings. Grogu makes curious sounds as he watches you sketch out the scenery. As you begin to make everything more solid, you explain the different techniques you’re using to Grogu. You’ve decided to make an artist out of the tiny menace. Maybe then he’ll have an outlet for all that energy and won’t get into so much trouble. 

You don’t notice when he drifts off. Once you’re satisfied with the sketch, you return your sketchbook to where it was. Din still isn’t back and you finally hear Grogu’s soft little snores. You decide to explore the market. There are so many things to see and try. The possibilities get your heart racing. 

First, you try a strange bumpy green fruit. It’s juicy and sweet. Next, you happily eat a skewer of meat. After that, you’re nice and full, so you move on to the curios. The sheer amount of things to look at is overwhelming. Clothes, trinkets, antiques, and furniture. You even find a stand selling board games you recognize from Nabu. A surge of homesickness hits you, but it doesn’t last long. There’s too much excitement being on Tatooine.

“You must’a paid a pretty penny for that,” a Twi’lek merchant with purple-toned skin says. 

You’re at her table looking over the case of different pigment powders she has displayed. Some of the colors you didn’t even know you could get like this. It would make mixing paint a lot easier and give you more colors to choose from. When the Twi’lek speaks your eyes get drawn to her intrigued gaze.

“I’m sorry?” you furrow your brows.

“That’s a fine piece of Corellian silk on your head,” she gestures to the one thing keeping you from having a heat stroke. 

“Oh, thank you. It was a gift,” you say and reach up to brush your fingers over it.

The feel of the fabric brings a reminder of Din, which makes you smile. The merchant nods.

“What would you let it go for?” she asks.

The question startles you a bit. You thought you were here to possibly buy something from her. 

“Nothing, it’s not for sale.”

“Everything is for sale for the right price. What about those pigments? That’s’a fair trade,” she nods to the case you were just examining. 

The offer doesn’t even tempt you. No matter how much you want those pigments.

“No, it isn’t,” a familiar voice says from behind you. 

You look over your shoulder to find Din staring down the Twi’lek. Relief floods your body. You didn’t know how you were going to politely remove yourself from the sudden negotiations. The Twi’lek raises her hands in surrender with a smile.

“Okay, how about the pigments and a hundred credits?”

“It’s really not for sale, but have a nice day,” you smile and turn on your heel. 

Din doesn’t move as you walk away. 

“How much for the pigments, Tiva?” he asks her gruffly.

“For you, Mando. Let’s call it forty-five,” she smiles knowingly.

He nods and hands over the credits. Tiva closes the wooden case and fastens the brassy latch before handing it over to him. It’s about the size of a book so Din doesn’t bother worrying about how much room is left in the Crest.

“I have to say-”

“No, you don’t, but I’m sure you will anyway.”

“I never thought I’d see someone get under that beskar of yours,” she muses. 

“No one’s gotten under my beskar,” he says a little too defensively.

After everything that happened with the Children of the Watch, could he be blamed? He’s already been told he’s no Mandalorian. He isn’t sure he really wants to be, not the kind he was at least. Maybe something more like Boba Fett. Something that gives him the chance at forming real bonds with others. Tiva hums.

“Whatever you say. Until next time, Mando.”

Din nods and follows after you. 

Grogu gurgles inquisitively in your ear. You chuckle a soft good morning to him. His ear brushes the back of your neck as he looks backward. The motion causes you to do the same. Din is further behind than you thought. He’s carrying something you didn’t notice before. There’s a light red blinking coming off the side of his belt. You stop walking to allow him to catch up. When he does he holds out what’s in his hand. The case of pigments from the Twi’lek’s table. You let out a gasp and gently take it in both hands. 

“You didn’t have to,” you breathe.

“I know.”

The soft look you give him is enough to make the spent credits worth it. Suddenly, you’re throwing your arms around him. The beskar is a little hot, but you don’t care. Din’s arms hover in the air for a moment before hesitatingly wrapping around you, just under Grogu. His firm hold around your lower back makes you feel weightless. You squeeze before letting go, not wanting to overstay your welcome in his arms. Din has to stop himself from grabbing onto you and pulling you back in.

“Thank you. I’m going to paint you something when we get back,” you beam at him.

If only you could see the warm smile you received in return.

***

The Twi’lek’s words nag at you the entire time you’re painting. You’re sitting cross-legged in the cockpit with Din. Grogu is fast asleep in his hammock above Din’s bed. From the pilot’s seat, Din can hear the strokes of your paintbrush getting fewer and further between. When you start chewing on the handle he knows something is awry.

“What’s wrong?” he asks without looking back.

“How much did you pay for the Corellian silk?” 

Din simply blinks behind his helmet for a moment. He definitely wasn’t expecting that. 

“It’s rude to tell you the price of a gift,” is his answer.

“No, don’t go all Mandalorian on me. That Twi’lek said it must’ve cost a pretty penny. How much was it?” you’re firmer this time.

“Tiva just likes to cause trouble.”

“Din,” you snap.

“Why is it important?” he snaps back.

A heavy moment passes where you both stew in the tension. You exhale through your nose and go back to painting. Din thinks the conversation is over, but that would just be too easy.

“It’s not that it’s important. I’m just… worried,” you sigh.

“You’re always worried,” his voice softer.

“You always give me something to worry about.”

Another round of silence, but without the tension.

“What have I given you to worry about this time?” he asks gently.

“Giving me so many nice things… I’m afraid you see me more as a babysitter than a friend,” you admit quietly, “I’d really like for you to see me as a friend, Din.”

Din’s stomach does a strange twist. You think he’s paying you? That the things he’s given you are for your time watching Grogu? The truth is, he doesn’t see you as a friend. He sees you as so much more than that. 

You’re what keeps him steady. You’re what keeps him up at night. You’re what he thinks about when he thinks of needing to get home, you with Grogu in your arms. You have given him the closest thing he’s ever had to a real family… and you think he sees you as a babysitter. Where did he go so wrong to give you that impression?

“I don’t see you as a babysitter,” he tells you, looking over his shoulder.

You peak above your sketchbook, eyes meeting the dark of his visor. 

“Do you see me as a friend?” you ask meekly. 

“No.”

Your stomach drops. Din can see the hurt. Before he can finish you disappear back behind the sketchbook.

“I consider you family,” he finishes softly.

He watches your eyes reappear above the binding, wider than before. The tips of your ears are red. Din can feel the small smile grow on his lips. 

“Really?” you whisper. 

“Really.”

“So… you just like getting me gifts?” 

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Din faces forward. He knows you can’t see him, but he doesn’t want to face you as his cheeks heat up. He busies himself with some switches that don’t really do anything. Mostly, he’s flickering the lights in the cargo hold and the exterior landing lights, but you don’t know that.

“They make you happy. I enjoy seeing you happy,” he says, still pretending to do anything of meaning on the control panel. 

Your body floods with a warmth you’ve never experienced before. Everything feels lighter like someone turned off gravity. You want to hug him again, but decide it’s not a good idea while he’s behind the wheel. 

“I consider you family too.”

Din nods and hums in response. Under all that beskar, his skin feels electric. The Razor Crest has never felt more like a home.

***

There’s a shift in your relationship, an ease that creeps in and coats everything. The painting you made for Din after he got you the pigments doesn’t show up in the cockpit as you expect. There are several pieces of your art in there now. All are images of Grogu or Grogu and Din together. So, the absence of the most recent one doesn’t bother you too much. After all, it was only Din in the painting.

It’s the first time you’ve painted or drawn only him. You keep thinking about the way his gloved fingers drifted over it when you gave it to him. They made a light scraping noise against the dry paint but moved gently. The fondness that slipped into his voice when he thanked you has you questioning everything you know about tenderness. In all your life no one has spoken to you with that level of care.

“Stop,” Din’s voice comes sharp from the cargo hold. 

He lets you sit in his bunk to sketch during lengthier periods in the Crest. It’s a neat cozy little space that’s tucked into the wall with the option of a door for privacy. You don’t usually use the door, but Din has made it clear that you can if you’d like to be distraction-free. There’s something in the air in here that isn’t in the rest of the Razor Crest. Something that feels more like Din. Hearing him as you sit there makes you smile while drawing. 

“I said to sto- okay, that’s enough of that,” his frustrated voice carries through the ship once more.

“There, are you happy?”

The sound of metal hitting metal rings out.

“How do I get your arms in this thing? Dank farrik, stop moving,” Din’s voice is thoroughly annoyed.

The noise prompts you to go check in. When you emerge in the cargo hold you keep your sketchbook held against your chest. You see Din struggling with Grogu in the leather pouch. He has it strapped to his front but is struggling to wrangle Grogu’s arms into it. Those arms are wreaking havoc, causing tools that were once fastened against the wall to fly into Din’s armored back.  

“Need help?” you ask, amused. 

Din’s shoulders sag in relief as he looks up at you. 

“I don’t know how you do this,” he sighs, dropping his hands.

Another wrench clinks against his beskar. You laugh and place your sketchbook down on a crate before going to help. 

“Terrorizing your dad, I see,” you chide Grogu. 

The kid coos at you innocently and a screwdriver bounces off Din’s pauldron. You gently take Grogu’s hands. With the help of dramatic motions and silly faces, you tuck his arms into the bag. Then you’re able to secure the top of the bag so only his head could come out. His ears lower as he gurgles indignantly. You give him a boop on his little nose.

“That’s not a very responsible way to wield the Force, young man,” you tell him with a wag of your finger. 

“Thank you,” Din says.

“Do you want me to take him?” you offer with a sympathetic smile.

Din’s hands come up to brace the front of the pouch.

“No, you deserve a break. You can close the bunk door if we’re distracting you,” he reminds you.

The thought on his part makes your heart swell. You do spend a lot of time making sure Grogu doesn’t take the Crest down. It’s a nice feeling to know Din recognizes and acknowledges that. 

“You aren’t. What are you two doing exactly?” you glance around curiously at the scattered tools.

“I was giving the capacitor a tune-up. He was… helping.” 

You laugh and scratch behind Grogu’s ear earning a little purr. Din glances over to the sketchbook you put down. Three detailed sketches of him cover the page. One is his side profile, light glinting off his beskar forehead. The second next to it is him cleaning his blaster. He didn’t even know you were awake when he was doing that. The final sketch is below the two and centered. It’s his hands, just his hands. You’ve captured every wrinkle of his gloves as they hit the buttons on the control panel of the Crest.

Din’s breathing stops as he takes in the intimacy of each captured moment. An intimacy that he didn’t know was there. An intimacy that was so natural he didn’t think about it. An intimacy that didn’t require him to shed his armor.

“Those are good,” he comments with a nod to your sketchbook. 

You look over your shoulder. When you turn back to Din, your face is completely flushed. 

“Uh-thanks. Sorry… if me drawing you is weird. We’re just together a lot and it’s easy to draw what you know,” you rub the back of your neck awkwardly. 

“I don’t mind. I like them,” he assures you. 

You reward him with a small smile.

“So, where are we heading next? I’ve checked off five planets from my must-see list so far,” you quickly change the subject.

“Endor.”

Your face absolutely lights up with excitement. A delighted squeal bursts through your lips as you smile so hard it looks painful. Din’s heart flutters at the sound.

“Finally!” you cheer.

Din chuckles. You grab your sketchbook and walk off toward his bunk, talking to yourself about what you should wear. Grogu gurgles from where he’s strapped to Din’s chest. Din looks down to meet his big questioning eyes.

“What?” he asks the kid.

Grogu coos, raising his ears and looking to where you disappeared. Din follows his gaze to the empty entry of the cargo hold.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he sighs.

By the time he finishes the tune-up, Grogu is out cold. Din brings him to his bunk where you’re asleep. The pillow and blanket are scrunched in a pile beneath you like you made a makeshift chair. Your sketchbook is on your chest and your pencil is still in your hand. He gently places Grogu in his little hammock above you. Then, he carefully takes your sketchbook and extracts the pencil. 

Although he’s tempted, he doesn’t look through your sketchbook. You once told him your sketchbook is like a journal. You just talk in pictures instead of words. Din isn’t willing to invade that privacy. Privacy is a limited resource aboard the Crest, especially for you. You don’t get the luxury of the bunk door every night.

He is willing, however, to take a moment to watch you and Grogu sleep in tandem. Your soft breathing harmonizes with Grogu’s light snores. He’ll have to sleep with his helmet on since he won’t have the door to separate you, but that’s okay. You’ve been sleeping on your cot this entire time. He can take it for a night. 

***

The paper crinkles as you stir. You blink your eyes open. Grogu is sound asleep in his hammock. The crinkling draws your attention again as you sit up. You shift the pillow and blanket to find your painting. It’s stuck to the wall directly next to where his pillow would normally be. The way you had the blanket and pillow pushed up covered it before. You poke your head out of the bunk to see if you can tell where Din is.

The armor on the ground catches your eye instantly. Your gaze travels to your cot where Din is breathing softly, helmet still in place. He’s asleep meaning he’s given you his bed tonight. You put the pillow back where it should go and pull the blanket over your body. When you rest your head on his pillow you get a clear view of your painting of Din. All you need to do is loll your head to the side. 

Warmth spreads to your fingertips and toes. You imagine Din lying here staring at the painting as he drifts off. What does he think about? Do you plague his thoughts the way he does yours? The last thing you see before falling back asleep is the soft image of Din in the cockpit hanging on the wall.

***

Three days on Endor. Din is giving you three days on Endor. He could tell as soon as he saw your face exiting the Crest that you would need more than a day. Your hand is flying across paper the entire time. It gets to the point where you start taking notes for paintings later because you know you won’t have the time to sit here with your easel for all of them. 

The bounty Din was chasing took him all of two hours to catch. The guy is now on carbonite while Din plays tourist with you. Experiencing Endor through your fresh perspective is endearing. Everything is exciting you from the plants, the animals, and the native Ewoks. 

“I can’t go into the forest at home, but it’s all forest here. It’s amazing,” you giggle out as you examine the foliage above. 

Grogu coos adoringly from Din’s chest. The tip of your tongue sticks out as you begin sketching the Lantern Bird you spot in the trees. It’s large, bright pink, and preening. Truly a gorgeous sight that you can’t wait to paint later. You jot down notes of what colors to mix to get what you need. Din watches your diligent work fondly. 

“Dank farrik,” you curse under your breath suddenly. 

Din’s eyebrows shoot up under his helmet. He’s never heard you use that expression before. The thought that he’s rubbing off on you does something to him. It flips something on and suddenly his heart is a motor.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

You frown and flip furiously through your sketchbook. When you reach the end you sigh and snap it shut. The pages are so distorted from your drawing and painting that it doesn’t shut quite as much as it once did. 

“I’m out of room. I guess we don’t need to stay that long after all,” you tell him with disappointment dripping from every word. 

“There’s a village not far from here on Lake Marudi. We can see if they have any sketchbooks at the market.”

You give him a hopeful smile and nod. Halfway through the trek, Grogu starts to fuss making the two of you halt. Before Din can ask him what’s wrong, you’re slipping him out of the pouch. Grogu coos happily and takes up residence on your shoulders. You smile up at him as he gives your head a little pat to let you know he’s ready to keep going. When your eyes travel to look ahead once more you catch Din staring. 

His helmet is facing you dead on, his hands are still on the pouch as if Grogu never left, and his shoulders are still. You flash him a curious smile, which seems to snap him out of whatever daze he’s fallen into.

“Everything okay?” you ask.

Din clears his throat and nods. Then you continue on. The village really isn’t far. It borders Lake Marudi in a way that reminds you of the river at home. At first, you only see a few huts on the ground. They’re made with the resources around them which are mostly wood, tree fronds, and mud. It looks more like a small encampment than a village.

“I don’t think there’s a market here,” you say to Din as a couple of Ewoks emerge from the huts.

Din simply nudges your shoulder and points up. When you look, you gasp. The village is above you. A network of bridges and thatched huts sit in the trees. Rope ladders hang down to allow easy access. Ewoks can be seen walking across the bridges, going in and out of the structures, and generally living their lives post-war. Instinctively you reach for your sketchbook in a bag on your back but remember it’s full. 

“Stay here, I’ll talk to the hunters,” Din says.

He stalks off before you can argue. You watch him with a small huff as he goes to one of the Ewoks that emerged from the forest floor huts. 

“Y’know one of these days I’m gonna be the one that tells him to stay behind and let me take care of things,” you grumble to Grogu, but mostly to yourself.

Grogu makes a combination of cooing and gurgling. He gives your head another little pat. A small act of loving reassurance.

“Thank you, that does make me feel better,” you sigh. 

Din is on one knee before an Ewok with mud brown fur, a deep green hood, and a bow on its back. You can hear the strange jumble of sounds the Ewok is offering and the way Din returns it without thought. His speaking Ewokese comes as a surprise. You didn’t know he spoke anything other than Basic. After a few moments, Din nods and stands then makes his way back to you.

“You speak Ewokese,” you comment once he’s close enough.

“I speak many languages. He said there’s a market, but he’s not sure they have what we’re looking for.”

“Is it worth checking?” you frown.

“Probably not, but this is your chance to see an Ewok village up close. It’s possible they have other supplies we could use.”

You agree and he makes you go up the ladder first. Grogu hangs onto you for dear life, gurgling in a decidedly displeased tone. He feels much better once you’re securely on the landing. You follow Din through the network of bridges, studying every detail of the village. Up here you can see across Lake Marudi. If you squint you can make out another village on the other shore. A couple of small boats of Ewoks seem to be fishing. 

“Check the market,” Din nods to the larger hut in front of you, “I’m going to speak with the Chief.”

“The Chief? Why?” you question with furrowed brows.

“They’ve asked for my help with a Gurreck.”

At the sound of the beast’s name, a few passing Ewoks give wide-eyed looks. You have no clue what a Gurreck is, but it seems to have them spooked. 

“Okay,” you nod.

The market is small. It mostly has tools, weapons, and different size hoods. You find a table with some wood carvings of creatures native to Endor. Behind the table, an Ewok with black fur is working on another. It’s the only table with any type of art, so you decide to try your luck asking. 

“Um- excuse me,” you say hesitantly. 

The Ewok looks up at you and says something you don’t understand. 

“You don’t happen to speak Ewokese too, do you?” you ask Grogu with a frown.

He gives a gurgle in response.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

You pull out your sketchbook and hold it up to him. 

“Do you know where I can get one of these?” you gesture to it.

The Ewok says something else you don’t understand but reaches out for the sketchbook. You hand it over and watch him look at some of the drawings. He flips to the end and sees your sketches of Endor. Excitedly, he begins pointing at the paper and speaking Ewokese again. 

“Yeah, that’s Endor. I want to do more of that, but I need another book. Or even just paper,” you attempt to explain. 

The Ewok points to the sketch of the Lantern Bird and then back at himself. When you give him a confused look he repeats the motion with more enthusiasm. 

“Oh- you want me to draw you? I can do that, but I need something to draw on.”

The Ewok nods and shuts the book, handing it back to you. You watch as he lifts a floorboard and begins to dig around. He triumphantly pulls out a couple of pieces of handmade paper. You take them gratefully as he points to the paper and then to himself.

“One portrait, coming right up!”

Din finds you still in the market with a gathering of Ewoks before you. You’re sketching images of them. As always, the tip of your tongue is sticking out in concentration. Grogu notices Din first and greets him with a gurgle. The noise causes you to glance up. When you spot Din you give him a wide grin that just about makes him trip on his own feet. You put a finishing touch on the drawing and hand it to the Ewok in front of you. They all excitedly pass it around to take a look.

“How’d talking to the Chief go?” You ask as you wade through a dozen Ewoks to get over to him.

“I’m leaving with the hunting party to kill the Gurreck. I shouldn’t be more than a few hours,” he explains. 

You glance over your shoulder at the chittering Ewoks, still examining your drawing. 

“I think I’ll be okay here while you’re gone.”

“Keep an eye on things.”

You roll your eyes.

“I don’t think the kid has to watch out for me here.”

“I was talking to you.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth forms an oh. 

“Don’t worry, with the power of my pencil I’ll guard the village,” you smile.

“I don’t doubt that.”

Din gives Grogu a small scratch behind his ear. You expect him to leave after that, but then his hand finds a firm grasp on your upper arm, just beneath your shoulder. After a brief squeeze, he’s gone. You can still feel the pressure of his hand on your arm even after he’s far out of view.

***

The Gurreck proved to be more of a pain than Din thought. Once it was down, the Ewoks with him broke into cheers. The beast has killed several of their villagers and its meat will feed dozens more. It’s not often Ewoks get to say they’ve slain a Gurreck. The hunting party informs him that there will be a celebratory festival held for the occasion. 

Din is itching to get back to you and Grogu as night crawls across the sky. He knows that despite their stature, Ewoks are impressive warriors. You’ll both be safe there. So, it’s a strange sensation when what’s drawing him back so fiercely isn’t the need to ensure you’re protected. He just wants to see you. After that exhausting fight and being thrown into a couple of trees, he wants to hear your voice. A sound he’s grown accustomed to in the Crest. A sound he’s going to miss deeply when he brings you home.

When they arrive back in the village, Gurreck in tow on a wagon, it feels like the entire village is already outside. They’re all trying to get into the Chief’s living quarters. At first, Din thinks the chittering he’s hearing is anger. Once he listens a little harder he realizes it’s excitement. 

One of the Ewoks with Din shouts up to the crowd. As soon as they see the dead Gurreck, cheers break out and they come scrambling down to help with preparing the meat. Din is about to ask your whereabouts when you emerge on the bridge above with the Chief. You’re draped in garlands and flowers. There’s even a small flower crown on Grogu.

“I think they like me,” you call down to him with a smile.

There’s nothing but joy written on your face. You quickly follow the Chief down. Grogu once again holds on for dear life. When your feet hit the ground you take Grogu off your shoulders and carry him on your hip. The Chief leads you to Din. He approaches Din with open arms. A gesture Din knows isn’t an ask for a hug, but an expression of appreciation. The Chief begins to talk before you can. 

Din nods as the Chief thanks him not only for the Gurreck but for you. You were wrong. They don’t like you, they absolutely love you. Anxiety rises in Din’s throat when the Chief offers you a place in the village to stay. Forever. He’s tempted to not mention it when he translates. He doesn’t want you to tell him you’ll stay. He doesn’t want to go back to the Crest without you. 

“I don’t know what he said, but they’ve been really excited about my drawings,” you tell him proudly. 

Grogu reaches a hand toward Din. You hand him over with ease. It’s almost like Grogu can sense the complicated emotions running through him. 

“He said you’ve made significant cultural contributions with your drawings. They haven’t had documentation of their lives like that before,” he translates the part of the message that doesn’t make him nervous. 

Somehow, your smile brightens even more. You lift one of the flowery garlands off of your shoulders and place it over Din. The inside of his beskar is suddenly twenty degrees hotter. 

“Thank you for bringing me here,” your words are soft and filled with an emotion Din can’t place.

He nods because he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know if he could speak if he wanted to. 

“They’ll be having a festival tonight to celebrate killing the Gurreck,” he manages to get out in a normal tone.

“That’s so exciting! Can we stay for it?” 

“They’re expecting us, it would be rude not to.”

The Chief grabs your hand and begins to pull you away from Din. You throw him one last smile over your shoulder before you’re dragged into the crowd of Ewoks. He lets out a sigh. Grogu gurgles in Din’s arms, his flower crown falling a little over his eyes. Din pushes it back into place.

“I know,” he responds to the kid.

Both Din and Grogu know that Din has it bad for you. There’s nothing scarier to a Mandalorian than the prospect of allowing themself something they want. And he wants you oh-so badly. 

***

The firelight dances across the paper giving the illusion of the little Ewoks you drew walking. It’s a beautiful thing, but Din finds the firelight dancing across your features much more interesting. One of the benefits of existing primarily behind the helmet means he can stare. Just because he’s facing your way doesn’t mean he’s looking at you and there’s no way for you to tell for sure. He revels in the small moments where he allows himself the luxury of staring at you. 

The Ewoks are gathered all around you, watching the drawing in awe. Grogu chases little rodents that reside in the trees. There’s music being played off of wooden instruments, and even a few stormtrooper helmets as drums. A handful of Ewoks sing in Ewokese. You take another piece of the paper they’ve been steadily giving you and you begin to show them how to do it themselves. It’s been like this for the past couple of hours. You’ve been showing them how to draw, what to use, and drawing for them nonstop. Truthfully, your hand is starting to cramp.

“Din,” you call over the heads of the Ewoks from where you sit on a log. 

Din stands and starts to go to you.

“Can you tell them my hand hurts so I need to stop?” you ask, looking guilty. 

He makes the announcement to the Ewoks, all of whom are visibly disappointed. Until the Chief tells them that you may be staying. The sudden cheers earn Din a confused look from you. He gestures for you to come to him and leads you back to the log he was sitting on across the fire.  

Din’s eyes stay trained on Grogu pouncing on a mouse as you sit beside him. Ewoks begin to bring you food and drinks, all of which you accept graciously despite already being full. 

“The Chief has offered to let you stay. He wants you to continue your work here,” Din tells you, voice tight. 

“Oh,” is all you say.

You stare into the round wooden cup full of green liquid that’s in your hands. Din doesn’t say anymore. He doesn’t give any indication of whether he would want you to stay and that makes you nervous. Is he going to leave you on Endor?

“Do you… want me to stay?” you ask timidly.

He finally looks at you. When he does his shoulders straighten out, his head tilts a little to one side, and you can read the befuddlement all over him. It’s been getting easier to read him and the little movements that give him away.

“Do you want to stay?” he counters.

You furrow your brows and press your mouth into a thin line.

“I asked you first.”

Din turns back to where Grogu is slurping the mouse’s tail down. His arms are resting on his thighs, hands hanging in the middle, and his back is hunched. You wonder if he’s tired. You wonder how heavy all that beskar is and if he ever feels like he might collapse under the weight of it.

“No, I don’t want you to stay,” he answers, his voice raw with honesty.

“Do you think I do?”

“I think… I know that you’re happy here. You’re celebrated here. I can understand not wanting to leave that,” his voice is only getting softer with each fireside confession.

“Din, please look at me,” you plead in a whisper.

When he does, your expression is gentle and understanding. He feels wrapped in comfort and safety by your eyes. 

“We’re a family, remember? I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to,” you say every word with intentional confidence.

“I’m not going to tell you to go anywhere.”

“Then I’m not going anywhere.”

You exchange tender smiles, only you don’t know that. Din is so very aware that you can’t see the adoration he’s sending your way. He wants more than anything to be able to convey the fullness you’ve given his life. He has never felt like a complete person. Grogu filled in one-third of what he was missing. 

You’ve filled the last third, completing him and life on the Crest. He thinks part of him always knew that you would. That’s why he kept finding himself on your doorstep, enjoying your kindness, and appreciating how you are with the kid. He’s never had a way with words so he got you gifts instead. Only, he knows the gifts aren’t enough to translate what he wants them to. That feeling can only be spoken.

“You’re tired, we should head back to the Crest,” you say softly.

“It’s too dangerous to travel in the dark. They’ve set up a tree hut for us,” he informs you, voice low and tone inscrutable.

“Lead the way, then.”

A tan Ewok leads you up a tree and across several bridges. The hut you’re brought to is decently removed from the others. It almost seems like the village was once larger and this is a remnant of that. Inside there are just two sleep mats three feet apart. The light from the torches outside affords some visibility. Sharing a tree hut concerns you for Din’s comfort. He’s already had to sleep on your cot with his helmet on. 

“You can ask to sleep elsewhere. I won’t be offended,” you tell him as you sit on one of the mats. 

Grogu climbs onto it next to you and curls up. He’s asleep in no time. You don’t know how he does that.

“I would rather stay if you don’t mind.”

A bashful smile forms on your lips as you nod. 

“Do you want help with your armor?” you offer, knowing he doesn’t need it this time. 

He’s sore, but he’s not really injured. He’s perfectly capable of doing it himself, but he nods anyway. Din finds solace in your fingers plucking his armor off of him one piece at a time. The brush of them through his flight suit leaves trails of flames. Each time a piece of armor comes off he feels infinitely lighter, despite beskar already being lightweight. Soon, he’s left in only his flight suit and helmet. The rest of his armor is neatly organized at the end of the other mat. 

You spend an unsure moment in front of him. Your fingers tingle with the urge to remove his helmet next, but you refrain. That isn’t your choice to make. It’s only your choice to respect.

“I… I could use the Corellian silk to cover my eyes if you want to take your helmet off tonight,” you make the offer quietly, unsure if it’s crossing a line.

“You don’t mind?” 

“No, not if it means you’ll get a better night’s sleep.”

Din nods. He watches intently as you slip the fabric off of your head, hair flat where it once was. You fold it a few more times to make it thinner until it’ll only cover your eyes. The silk is cool and liquidy soft on your skin. You fumble trying to tie it around your head until Din’s gloved hands cover your own. 

Your breathing stops once you feel how close he is. He gently ties the silk not too tight, but enough so it won’t move. He receives an appreciative smile in return. You hear a short hiss as he releases his helmet. With a racing heart, you listen to him slide it off and place it on the ground with the rest of his armor. You don’t move, afraid to do something that might make the silk fall. 

He’s in front of you again. You can feel his heat. You can actually hear him breathing, a surreal sound. Din studies your face with his own eyes for the first time. No visor separating him from you. The little fish swimming on the Corellian silk over your eyes calls for him to remove it. To let you see, but he doesn’t. It feels like too much for one night. His nerves are already on fire.

You raise a shaky hand, inching it toward where his face would be. When the warmth from his skin hits your palm, you stop. Is touching him wrong? You don’t get a chance to think about it too much. Din turns and leans his head to nuzzle the side of his face into your palm. A gasp escapes your lips at the sensation.

The first thing to strike you is he has facial hair. It’s short and coarse against your hand. Then your thumb brushes across his cheekbone and you can feel the definition. You don’t want to move your hand. You don’t want to take more than he’s willing to give. Standing there with your skin on his, Din is willing to give you everything.

You can hear a shuffling and two soft thuds. Then his strong, warm, bare hand covers yours. You know your face must be entirely red by this point and can only hope the low light conceals it. He moves his face more, planting a small tender kiss on your palm. Maker, you didn’t know your heart could beat this fast. You didn’t know touching someone could feel so good.

His other hand takes your free hand and moves it to the other side of his face. You realize, he’s inviting you in. He’s inviting you to explore his face with your hands. It’s an invitation you accept without hesitation. Gentle fingers trace the downward curve of Din’s nose, glide over his strong brow, brush his eyelids, and finally take in the softness of his lips. Even with only your fingers, you can tell he’s smiling fondly. It occurs to you that Din isn’t breathing. One hand travels down his neck until it settles on the center of his chest. His heart is pounding as hard as yours, which makes you smile.

You grab Din’s hands and direct them to your face. He cradles your jaw so tenderly you want to cry. How could hands that take down beasts and bounties handle you with such loving care? With a smile, you turn and give Din’s palm a kiss to match the one he gave you. 

There’s a moment when the galaxy stops. Everything around the two of you ceases to exist. There are only Din’s hands on your jaw and your hands around his wrists. He wants to stay connected to you like this forever. He never wants to forfeit the warmth and softness of your skin again but knows he must. So, for now, he’ll soak in every bit of you that he can. For a heart-stopping moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. You want him to kiss you. 

His strong hands bring you closer to him. Then, the softest brush of his lips meets your forehead before pulling away. It’s so much, yet not enough. It’s the only moment you find yourself wishing you could be Sola’s type of selfish. The kind where you just take because you want to. Yet, you’re happy that you’re not. You’re elated that Din is giving to you. You don’t have to take, he’s slowly offering up parts of himself. Parts you’ll treasure.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.

His voice without the modulator sends a chill down your spine. That low cool tone is still present, but it’s also smoother. He has a voice like the river at home: cool to the touch, but the further you step in the more the bite becomes gentle kisses at your shins. Like the water is loving you back. His voice makes you miss home, but also feel at home right where you are. 

“Goodnight,” you whisper back.

Then his touch is gone and you wonder who you were before you felt it.

***

You’re alone when you wake up. Din and his armor are gone. So is Grogu. The ghost of Din’s skin is still on your hands. Your sleep was filled with the feel of his face. It takes a minute to straighten yourself out before you leave the tree hut. As you walk by them, the Ewoks are sending happy-sounding words your way. All of which you return with a smile. 

After a few minutes of walking aimlessly trying to find Din, you decide to try to ask. 

“Do you know where my friend is?” you ask a white Ewok you run into.

The Ewok responds in Ewokese, but you can see the question on her face. You put your hands in the air on either side of your head, palms facing in. Then you do a move up and down as if you’re taking a helmet off. Your face heats up at the memory of last night.

“Y’know, the guy with the helmet,” then you make a cradling motion, “and the baby?”

The Ewok nods and takes your hand. You’re led to a large tree hut near the center of the village. In it, there are Ewoks eating at tables. Sticking out like a sore thumb, Din sits at a too-small table with Grogu while he sloppily eats something mushy. He perks up when you enter. You smile as you sit across from them.

“Does that taste good?” you ask Grogu as he devours his food. 

He gives you a little coo in confirmation. 

“Are you hungry? I can grab you some,” Din offers.

A fire lights in you. You nod, unable to get words around the lump in your throat. He gets up and heads to where the food is being served. You lean your face on your hand and watch him go. Grogu coos, drawing your attention. 

“What’s up, li’l guy?” 

He brings his plate over and sits next to you with it. You scratch behind his ears and he purrs as he continues eating. A soft chuckle tumbles out at his grab for attention. You love how much the kid seems to love you. Especially because you love the kid so damn much. It hits you that, if necessary, you would die for this little green terror. You wouldn’t even think about it. Is this what being a parent is? you wonder.

Din places the food in front of you. You were so wrapped up in Grogu you hadn’t realized he made it back. You thank him with a smile and start eating.

Din had his eyes glued on you the whole way back. The loving gaze you had fixed on Grogu nearly took him out. He doesn’t know how Grogu managed to find the one other person in this galaxy that he could believe loves Grogu as much as he does. Out of every house on Naboo, out of every person in Dee'ja Peak, Grogu ended up with you. Din has never been much for fate, destiny, or the Force, but the kid came along and changed one of those. It’s possible you’ve changed the other two. 

“Did you sleep well?” you ask him.

“Yes. Did you?”

“Yeah, better than I thought I would. I think those sleep mats are more comfortable than the cot,” you chuckle.

Din stiffens briefly.

“I’m sorry about that. We can rotate beds,” he says.

“Oh, no, it’s okay. I didn’t say that to-”

“I know you didn’t.”

You can tell the smile that appears on your face is sappy, but you can’t help it. Din is here doing things to let you know that he sees what you do for him and wants to return the favor. Din, who has been taking you around the galaxy, something you thought you would never be able to do. Din, who gets you gifts just because they made him think of you. Din, whose skin was on yours last night, whose face was beneath your fingers. He’s sitting here caring for you like it’s part of his daily routine. You guess in some ways it is. Things just feel different now, in so many ways. 

When you’re finished eating, the three of you go to see the Chief. You have to let him know you appreciate the offer, but you won’t be staying. Din does all the talking really, but you figured it would be bad manners not to show your face. The Chief, although clearly disappointed, nodded in understanding. Din didn’t relay this bit, but he said he understood the two of them have a responsibility as parents. Parents. He’s used to being called Grogu’s dad, father, or parent. This is the first time he’s heard it plural in any language. He quite likes it.

The Chief calls for something. Two Ewoks, one gray and one black, carry something in. They present it to you. Your jaw drops when you realize what it is. A sketchbook. The cover is made from bark, there’s a thick stack of paper bound between with a branch that was carved into a spiral. It’s handmade. The Chief says something directly to you.

“He says this is a gesture of gratitude and a symbol that you have allies on Endor,” Din translates. 

“Is it okay to hug him?” you ask, eyes watery.

Din asks and the Chief nods. You kneel down and take him in your arms. His fur is a little itchy, but it’s a nice hug. As you stand, you wipe away some stray tears. You accept the sketchbook and hold it to your chest. You’re closer to Din than you were before. 

“Is it okay if we stay here while we’re still on Endor? I’d really like to get this place down for myself,” you nod at the sketchbook in your arms.

Din says something to the Chief you don’t understand. The Chief nods as he responds.

“The tree hut is ours for as long as we need it,” Din relays to you.

“I better get started then. There’s a lot I want to draw.”

***

Din follows Grogu around as he explores, redirecting him when need be. He’ll help an Ewok here and there if they ask, but otherwise, it’s a pretty calm day. A little after midday he realizes he didn’t see you get lunch. When Grogu finishes his meal of mashed grubs Din finds something more suitable for a human to eat. He manages to get a grilled piece of Gurreck. 

“Can you let me put you in this, this time?” he asks Grogu, holding up the pouch. 

Grogu lowers his ears and gurgles from beside Din on the table. Din sighs.

“I’ll let you hunt mice tonight,” he tempts the kid.

It works. Grogu holds his arms up for Din to grab him. He doesn’t struggle when Din places him in the pouch. Din even gets his arms in it. Then the two of them are off to find you. It doesn’t take long. You’re sitting with your back to one of the giant tree trunks near the central tree hut. As always, the tip of your tongue is out as your hand moves furiously across the page. You’re already several pages into the sketchbook.

“We brought you lunch,” he says as he approaches.

Your gaze flies up to him filled with surprise. Then it registers and a smile breaks out. Din loves how much you smile. He’s never met someone so willing to smile at him. You pop up from where you sat.

“Aren’t you two sweet! Thank you,” you place a kiss on the top of Grogu’s head.

Looking back at Din, you hesitate. Kissing him next felt like the natural thing to do, but how would you go about that? Dank farrik, you think. You place a hand on the cheek of his helmet. The impulse wins. Your lips meet the cold beskar of the other cheek briefly. Beneath that helmet Din’s head is spinning. When he’s in his armor he isn’t supposed to be the recipient of gentle touch. Only violent blows and blaster fire. Yet, here you are treating him with all the tenderness of the night before.

“I can’t believe you got him in the pouch,” you chuckle as you take the food from Din.

“I had to bribe him with mice,” he admits.

“Hey, whatever works,” you shrug.

“It looks like you might fill that before we get off Endor,” Din nods to your sketchbook.

You laugh shyly.

“Everything is just so beautiful here and the Ewoks have been so nice. Then there was the festival last night and… I want to remember it all.”

The word all hangs heavy in the air. You sit back down crisscrossed, plate balancing on one thigh. Then you flash Din another one of those smiles.

“You’re welcome to join me if you’d like. Might get boring, though.”

Din sits down beside you. Grogu coos in a pleased manner. You continue drawing between bites. The village spreads out on the page exactly as it is in real life, just in graphite. You have notes scribbled around about color and atmosphere. There’s an attention to detail that’s impressive. He thinks he could watch you do this all day. He thinks he could watch you do this forever.

Have you ever thought about staying? you had asked him. The answer is yes, he has. He thought about staying ever since returning from Endor with that first gift. Staying just isn’t something he was sure he could do. He didn’t know if he was built to be what you need in a real home. Sitting here with you as you draw and Grogu coos softly against his chest, he starts to wonder if he could be one day. 

***

Nightfall brings about less celebration this time, but it’s just as welcoming. The Ewoks feed you. They happily look through the drawings you got done that day as you eat. Din eats elsewhere, but he’s back soon. You can only imagine he scarfed the food down as fast as he could. When he spots you, you swear you see him relax slightly. 

As he sits beside you, the Ewoks flip to a page with a drawing of Din. A tan one points excitedly at the drawing then at Din exclaiming something in Ewokese. Your face glows bright once you realize what’s happening. 

The drawing shows Din carving a spear. He figures you must have drawn it earlier in the day. He was helping the hunters make more to replace the ones they lost fighting the Gurreck. As always, it’s a perfect depiction. Din’s stomach takes on a weird weightless sensation. 

“Why do you draw me so much?” he can’t help, but ask.

He can’t figure out why you take him on as a subject so often. It’s not that he doesn’t like it. Din enjoys the feeling of being intimately known in an indescribable way. He likes knowing you don’t just look at him. You observe, you take in every detail he has to offer, and you turn them into art. 

You can hear your heart in your ears. You can’t look at him. There’s no good answer to it. None that wouldn’t make you sound like a complete weirdo who likes to stare. What can you say other than the truth, though?

“I like looking at you,” you answer softly, eyes meeting his visor again.

Your eyes are wide, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Din’s own face catches fire, a familiar feeling around you at this point. His fists clench on his thighs. The urge to rip his helmet off floods him. You like looking at him, but you’ve only ever seen his armor. You’ve only ever seen the Mandalorian. You’ve never seen Din. 

He struggles with words for a moment. There are so many things he could say. So many things he wants to say. All he can get out is the bare minimum, the tip of the iceberg.

“I like looking at you too.” 

Embarrassment slips away and another smile takes over your features. Din watches you continue eating. Occasionally, you stop to dote over Grogu. He thinks about your touch, your kiss on his palm and his beskar, your overall caring demeanor. He thinks about kissing you tonight. A deep tug of desire pulls at his stomach.

Maybe Din is a little too eager to get to bed. If you catch that, you don’t say anything. Instead, you silently carry a snoring Grogu to the tree hut. You place him on your sleep mat and watch for a moment. His little chest moves up and down, a motion that brings you comfort. 

When you turn around, Din is standing in the center of the hut. You can’t tell for sure, but you have a feeling he’s been watching you. Deja vu hits and you decide to lean into it.

“Do you want help with your armor?”

Din nods. You start the process that’s beginning to feel like a routine. He stays still, committing your touch to memory, burning it into his skin through the flight suit. Every piece is on the ground, but his helmet. The torchlight bounces off his breastplate, softening the harder edges. 

“Would you mind…,” he trails off.

With a small smile, you slip the Corellian silk off of your head and fold it. This time rather than fumble with it you give it to Din and turn around. He ties it with the same firmness as last time. Slowly you turn back around. There’s that hiss, the sound of the helmet being put down, and Din stepping closer to you. Your heart leaps.

His fingers are bare when they cup your face. Soft despite the strength they hold, and warm despite the cold exterior they usually reside in. The soft pads of his thumbs caress your cheeks. You soak in every bit of him you can. Until you decide, just this once, to take instead of receive. Small details that have occupied your thoughts.

“What color are your eyes?” you ask.

“Brown.”

Your skin buzzes with the information. His voice sends electricity down your spine.

“Your hair?”

“Brown.”

“Is it wrong to try to picture you?”

It’s the sincerity behind the question that does it. The genuine concern for his comfort and boundaries. Din pulls you into a fervent kiss. He kisses you like he’s gasping for air. Your hands fly to the back of his neck. His hair is short, you discover this when you trail fingers up the back of his head. It’s softer than you imagined. Everything about him is so much softer than you would have ever imagined before getting to know him. 

Your lips move against his effortlessly. Din’s teeth lightly catch your bottom lip, earning him access to your mouth. His tongue meets yours briefly, mingling the tastes of dinner with a hint of mintiness. Then his mouth is gone much too soon. You would think you hallucinated the whole thing if it weren’t for his hands still holding your face. His breathing is just as ragged as yours while you try to compose yourselves.

Something changes in the air between you. It’s like you can feel the expression he has fixed on you. An expression of adoration and awe, one you���re sure you’re mirroring. Homesickness has never felt so far from your mind. You’re sure now that home is wherever and whenever Din’s lips are on yours. Everything you associate with home filled that kiss: warmth, care, affection, and mutual respect. Standing here with your eyes covered, you feel like you’ve never seen the galaxy this clearly. You’ve never understood life this fully.

“I’ve never cared for someone the way I care for you,” he tells you, his cool voice gentle and tender. 

“I’ve never cared for someone the way I care for you,” you smile, returning his sentiment.

The words wrap around the two of you, bringing you closer together. Din’s thumbs slide beneath the Corellian silk. They brush over your eyelids. The skin is smooth. He can feel your eyes move before his thumbs slide away to go back to cradle you. 

He longs to be brave enough to push the silk away, tear it off, and throw it across the hut. He’s brave enough to fight battalions, but tonight he can’t find the bravery to look directly into your eyes. With a twist of his stomach, he settles for resting his forehead against yours.

“I don’t want to go back to the way things were,” he whispers, breath skirting across your skin.

Your eyebrows furrow beneath his.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to stay like this. I don’t want to return to a life of merely visiting you, of only getting you in pieces. I want you wholly. I want you always,” each word is dipped in affection and pushed out earnestly.

You’re grateful for your eyes being covered. His words bring you next to tears. They grab your heart and squeeze it in your chest. It doesn’t matter what’s left to see out there in the galaxy. This spot right here on Endor is your favorite.

“You can have me as long as I can have you,” you whisper back.

A dozen butterflies have found their way into Din’s stomach. His heart flutters with their wings. He has the entire galaxy in his hands in the shape of your face. 

“You can have me endlessly.”

“Then you can have me endlessly too.”

He presses another, lighter kiss to your lips. It’s short but oh-so-sweet. Chaste, yet still spurs on the raging fire within you. Somehow the two of you find the strength to go your separate ways to bed. You listen to Grogu’s snores beside you. When you caress his head, he curls into you. You keep an arm around him, keeping him secure by your side.

***

The next day the three of you make the hike back to the Crest. Along the way, you stop to draw more things you see. Din is convinced you could find a way to fit all of Endor on a piece of paper if it means taking it with you. He lets Grogu chase after bugs while you draw. 

You even draw Grogu a few times in his calmer moments. Din is in no rush to get back to the Crest so he doesn’t hurry you along. He waits patiently, never once uttering something even close to a complaint. Back on the Crest, he listens to you go on about all the painting you want to do. He chuckles when you make a joke about your hand falling off and tells you he’d rather have you in one piece. 

Your stay on Endor has been drawn out for as long as it can be. There’s a pang in your chest as you watch the forest fall away and the atmosphere fades into space. Yet, there’s a deep comforting sense that you have left Endor with so much more than you arrived with.

Tatooine has become a familiar sight. Din has to stop in to collect his payment and get a new bounty. Sometimes Peli has to fix up the Crest. She’s rough around the edges, but you like her. You like how she treats Grogu and how she isn’t afraid to say what she wants to Din. 

Stepping off the Crest, Grogu in the pouch on your back, you call out for Peli happily. 

“There you are,” a chilling voice answers to your left.

You whip around, heart flying into your throat, and hand grabbing Din’s wrist next to you. On top of two stacked crates sits Sola. Her hands grip the edge of the crate on either side of her, legs crossed at the ankles as she swings them a bit. A dangerous smirk crawls onto her face.

“Heard you’ve been lookin’ for me.”

[toxicpineapple]

Hello! I'm a huge fan of how you write Rantaro, and I've had an idea for a fic for a while which would follow him. Do you have any tips for writing him, or writing how he interacts with other characters? No pressure to answer if you don't want to, love your work!

this is another one of those asks that has been sitting in my inbox for aaaageeeees but i haven't been able to gather the spoons to answer it properly so we're doing it now. i'm so sorry if you've already written or given up on that fic idea by now, i hope this can still be helpful to you or anyone else who reads it!

so for me the big thing about rantaro is balancing the Relaxed Cool Demeanour and the Inner Darkness. rantaro is easygoing and highly socially intelligent, he's able to go along with just about anything -- at times i would say he's even too casual (happily remarking upon instances where his life was threatened in tdp, just for example lol) and he's just generally very. hard to fluster, hard to make angry. you see rantaro upset in the context of the killing game, and stern at times, but never angry, and never on a personal level. imo, it would take a lot to get him to that point. not a lot sways him. rantaro's patient and indulgent, he'll just let people get away with whatever for the most part. probably a bit of an enabler too, even when people are doing things they shouldn't like pranks or crimes. this dude seriously could not be bothered. he grew up with twelve younger sisters and has been constantly in danger for the past however many years of his life, he's just vibing.

and then there is the Inner Darkness lol. rantaro is distrustful, he keeps personal information close to his chest and he will change the subject, subtly or unsubtly, when things go in a direction he doesn't like. he's vague about his personal life or feelings, and he'll probably be pretty difficult to pry any honest communication out of since this dude is just. sooooo withdrawn despite a carefree, friendly demeanour. outside of that rantaro also has an IMMENSE guilt complex specifically around his family, specifically specifically around his sisters -- he gets melancholic whenever talking about his family, he feels a disproportionate amount of responsibility towards his sisters and their wellbeing... this dude is full of the Angsts.

he's also very singleminded, the type to take on an impossible burden solo (be that ending the killing game or finding twelve missing people all over the world) and it takes a lot to get him to open up or accept help. doing things alone is in his nature. even in his love hotel, where he has someone he can still protect... he wants to do things by himself, so they won't get hurt. rantaro would rather carry the responsibility than let his loved ones help him. he alone has to be the person to do it, he can't let other people be dragged into his messes.

to that end i think rantaro is very very protective. the sort of person who would only really get angry if you hurt someone he cares about. i think even when he knows his loved one is in the wrong, he'll still protect them. it's in his nature. he stands up for those weaker than him, he stands up for those who are vulnerable, and he stands up for those he cares about -- he is just protective by nature, and selfless, and there's nothing he wouldn't do for someone who managed to tear down his walls and get him to open up to them.

dude... also has some pretty severe attachment issues lol. he very strongly avoids shuichi learning the truth in the ftes, even going as far as to rebuke him kind of rudely (though shuichi is also prying but we love him for it) but as soon as rantaro opens up and receives even a little bit of encouragement he jumps straight to "please travel the world with me forever" LOL this dude goes from 0 to 100 in seconds. top ten guys with no friends or family who then immediately melt the second they receive any kind of affection. he's wild for this for real.

i didn't cover it too much but i do believe rantaro is very repressed as well, the type to kind of just cover up his feelings with a smile. he canonically hides injuries in tdp (and is good enough at it that he's only noticed by mukuro, who has an uncanny intuition) so i think it's safe to say rantaro is the type of guy to keep it all locked up. but also reckless enough to get into all kinds of dangerous situations and poke his head into problems that aren't his. or reckless enough to say, go down to the library and try to confront the mastermind alone an hour before the time limit...

one last trait i like to give rantaro is being a bit unreliable or flighty, not in intense situations like you see in v3, but in relationships? mukuro reads rantaro for filth in tdp accusing him of never maintaining a romantic relationship because he won't open up to his partner, and lol. lol. top ten guys with zero communication skills. i bet when he gets asked about his problems he just walks away and pretends it didn't happen later. classic rantaro.

i have so many thoughts about this man just in my brain can you tell he is everything to me. anyway once again sorry for the late response i hope this helped anon!

[prettyblondguys]

hii!! i had an angsty idea w/ eddie revolving around the right relationship at the wrong time type of idea. maybe you guys met at high school and got together after finding out you guys shared common interests but you were graduating and going off to college while eddie was being held back. you parted ways and stopped talking immediately after moving away

💖💖💛💛

Feels Like Forever

Short, angsty Eddie x f!reader ficlet :)

Warnings: alcohol, that's it I think. I'm not proofreading except on company time.

"All I known is that it feels like forever, but no one ever tells you that forever feels home, sitting all alone inside your head."

"It's been way too long, Y/n," your friend Samantha said, the two of you sitting in lawn chairs in her backyard, along with a few other people you recognized and some you didn't. She had called you up a few weeks ago to let you know that some of the old highschool buddies were planning on getting together, as a sort of early reunion. She guilt tripped the hell out of you to convince you to make the drive from Bloomington all the way back to Hawkins, a place you hadn't stepped foot in since you left for college six years ago, way too eager to get outta dodge. Admittedly it was nice seeing old faces and finding out what everyone had been up to, but it was eerie as well, noticing the stark differences between the people who wanted to leave and those that wanted to stay, resigned contentment vs happiness. "I know," you reply, nursing the same beer you had been for an hour now, "but you know how work is, I barely get any time off."

"Tell me about it, pal." Hands land on your shoulders and a face leans over your head, peering down at you with a wide smile. "How you been, Y/n?" Steve beams as you chuckle, coming to stand beside you, hands on his hips as his eyes scan the crowded backyard. "I'm good, it's good to see you." You and he had been close back in school, you were the same age but he had always felt like the big brother you never had. "You guys finally get a babysitter?" Samantha asks, chuckling as Steve's head whips around in search of something. "Yeah," he answers, "the wife's around here somewhere. Oop, I think I see her, I'll talk to you guys later." He walks off, quickly tousling your hair before you have the chance to stop him. "Asshole," you mumble with a laugh, fixing your hair.

"Who, me?" It feels like everything stops when you recognize that voice, time frozen still as its owner comes into view beside you, shit-eating grin plastered across his face. "Eddie, shit how are you?" You stand up and pull him into a hug, his leather jacket cool under your fingertips from the night air. "I'm good, Y/n," he replies, hugging you right back. You both stand there for a moment longer before he pulls back to look at you with a wide, toothy smile, "It's really fucking good to see you, Y/n. I've missed you." His sweet words should have warmed your heart, but instead they stabbed at it.

You had met Eddie back as a freshman, during a free period. You'd been on your way to the room where Drama Club met to work on your D&D campaign, knowing it'd be empty this time of day. You were surprised to see that it wasn't, walking in to find that someone else had had the same idea as you. You'd shared the details of your campaigns and that was that, you were fast friends. And soon, your friendship turned into something more. Hours holed up in each other's rooms going over campaigns or listening to the new Metallica album quickly led to shy glances and chaste kisses, followed closely by puppy love and hasty promises. Eddie was your first love and you were his, high school sweethearts vowing to spend every second of every day together for the rest of time. That is, until you were accepted at Indiana University and Eddie got news that he had to repeat 12th grade. You'd offered to wait until he graduated and just reapply next year, but he wouldn't hear of it. "You're not gonna put your life on hold for me." You didn't want to admit it, but you were hoping he wouldn't let you. The thought of even one more year in Hawkins was unbearable. So you made a promise, that in a year he'd head out to Bloomington to move in with you, find a job and everything would go as planned, just slightly delayed. And until then you'd call every chance you got, long distance relationships were always tough but yours wouldn't be, you cared about each other too much.

But that's the thing about promises, sometimes they're impossible to keep. You couldn't call a few times a day because when Eddie was free, you weren't. So you'd call once a day, before bed. You'd tell him about your classes and he'd tell you about his campaigns. College was so much busier than high school, and every day turned into every other day, which turned into once a week, and once every other week. There came a point when you hadn't talked in a month and a half. That next phone call was quiet, tears held back on both ends as you agreed that yeah, maybe we should take a break. Yeah, just until I graduate. This is too much on your plate. This is harder than we thought it'd be. Then the time came for him to graduate, and he didn't. Held back, again. There weren't any phone calls, no vows for next year, no it's just gonna take a bit longer than we thought. You didn't hear from him and he didn't hear from you. Soon you'd pushed all of it from your mind, pouring over your studies and hard won internship, and once you graduated you were too busy with work to wonder if he had finally done it, to wonder if you would open your door and find him standing there, a bandana tied over his wild hair, holding a suitcase in one hand and a diploma in the other. You were too busy with your new life to realize that he didn't even know where you lived now, having moved apartments a year into college. But it wouldn't have mattered anyway. One year turned to two, three and then four. Neither of you had broken the promises you'd made all those years ago, staring into each other's eyes with what you thought was a love to last the ages, you hadn't broken them, life had.

So when Eddie said those words, you knew it meant more than if anyone else had said them. He missed you, yes, but more so he missed the you that hadn't yet left Hawkins. The girl that spent her weekends listening to him practice guitar and giving him a peck on the cheek when he forgot the next chord. The girl trying to get a laugh out of him by making faces when the teacher turned his back. That's who he missed, but that wasn't you anymore, and he wasn't the same guy you missed. You'd grown up, and worse than that, you'd grown up apart. You both knew this.

¤

An hour has passed, or maybe it's been two, you aren't sure. Most people have come and gone, hugs and "see you soon"s exchanged before the crowd started to dwindle, Samantha heading inside to talk to some people before they left, leaving just you and Eddie out back. The two of you had quickly fallen into comfortable chatter, him telling you about his job at the garage and how Wayne had a new "lady friend" as Eddie so suggestively called her, telling you an embarrassing story about walking in on them kissing in the kitchen. "I'm telling you, Y/n, I'm getting outta there as soon as a trailer opens up." You laugh at his disgusted expression and regale him with your woes, how the landlord was an ass who refused to fix anything without hassling him for a good few months, about how your boss always had you double check your work knowing damn well you were right the first time. As completely different as your problems were, he still laughed and shook his head as you told him about your life in Bloomington.

"You know," you say, watching as he absentmindedly turns a ring on his finger, "if you're ever up there, feel free to drop by. The couch is a pullout." He smiles before letting out a small huff of laughter, "What would I be doing up in Bloomington?" He had a point, as far as you were aware he hadn't ever stepped foot outside Hawkins, let alone way up state. "We should talk though, you know?" He says after a minute, "Keep in touch." You nod your head, "Yeah, we should. We will." Sitting there, you look at each other. His eyes are soft as they stare into yours, something sad swimming in the dark brown of them. In these few seconds you both feel it, the flood of memories and nostalgia for what you had, for what you wanted and what you'll never get. If only he had come with you. If only you had stayed. There were too many "if onlys" for anything else to last. You share a bittersweet smile before looking away to gaze up at the stars, Vega and Altair stunningly visible tonight. You should keep in touch, but you won't. You both know this.

[courfeyracs-swordcane]

for alonzo -

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

Lonely is kind of his base state of being— he’s convinced himself that he just Does Better Doing His Own Thing but like. He was never really given a choice in that? He’s been on his own since he was 14 and he doesn’t know how to hang out with people or initiate conversations. His ass goes to work and goes home and he does NOT have friends at work. He hangs out with his boss (on the job) and his sister (on the clock)(when he’s supposed to be doing his job) and That’s It. (Ari is an outlier and an exception he was drunk and wanted to try something new)

Which is kind of sending me bc when he’s alone alone in his apartment he loops back through his. Bitchass little gayboy liar who you do NOT have a handle on the way you think you do mode that he becomes with his Guys back around to being a Model Employee and generally Really Boring Guy who lives for work. Contributed to by the fact that his work owns his apartment and his groceries and the clothes on his back, and also this is technically a hostage situation, so he doesn’t have so much of a choice, but like damn he really gets all of his rebellion out on the clock and then just. Goes home to clean his uniform and sit in his room in silence before going to bed at like 9:30 so he can get a good start in the morning. Maybe gets ahead on his paperwork if he’s got any to do.

He’s fundamentally just Not A Very Rebellious Guy?? Not that he doesn’t have a pretty big streak of it in him, but if he’s left to his own devices he’ll literally just follow whatever orders he has and do very little else.

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

BOY HOWDY!!!! Okay so not so much betrayal but hot damn this guy sure can abandonment issues!!!

Incident/betrayal #1: he’s 14 years old and his big sister who’s been looking out for him since he three, who he looks up to more than anyone, turns 18 and immediately dips to go join the metaphorical army, figuring he’s old enough to look after himself now and doesn’t need her anymore. Forgets to say goodbye or give any indication of where she’s going besides the fact that she’d been talking about doing this for months. (Alonzo does not see this as a problem for another ~ten years. That’s Kyrie! whatever she does is Right and more importantly Cool!)(<— top ten guys who needs therapy)

Incident/betrayal #2 (other direction): uh. So his chest cavity gets exploded on the job and he goes back to work three days after being brought back to life, and within a week his direct supervisor (and also mentor)(but they don’t know that part), the only person he talks to on anything approaching a daily basis, guy who’s been covering his back for the last ~5 years puts in their two week notice and fucks off to go hang out with his sister and try to bring down the government.

Incident/betrayal #3 (Alonzo’s turn this time!): To cope with that, (and also to avoid confronting the fact that when he died It Had Way More Of An Effect On People Than He Thought It Would), his stupid ass throws himself ENTIRELY into his job at the Hunt His Sister And Co (which now includes both his boyfriend and his mentor) For Sport Company, and he gets himself transferred from the hunt those guys for sport department (position which he had been using as an excuse to go hang out) to the Personal Security For His Boyfriend’s Dad (Who Those Guys Are Actively Trying To Assassinate) department, which. Hoo boy howdy. Hits Kyrie pretty god damn hard in her Massive Well Of Alonzo-Related Guilt, both bc they had finally managed to get close enough that he went to her house (!!) when he had a problem (very small delayed action grenade between his ribs) instead of anywhere else (his job) AND because now that means if they do wind up somehow in a position to go through with assassinating that guy she’s gonna have to choose between her revenge and her baby brother. (She’s not the one who winds up there— his mentor is the one who winds up kicking his ass)(as related to the next question, there’s a reason Alonzo never got promoted to being the organization’s special little mascot guy/diversity hire when Kyrie quit and the position opened up. Part of it is they’re not putting any more Ballad brothers into any more important positions after the KyrieAleidis Ballad Incident but the other part of it is that he’s just straight up not really good enough at the job for that. An can kick his ass without even breaking a sweat.)

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

I mean one of the other defining things about him is his failure to live up to the example Kyrie set in literally any way shape or form (this is a good thing) despite his best efforts due to them being VERY different people. Alonzo was NOT cut out for this shit he would be so much happier doing literally anything else. He’s kind of the only one who does not see it that way and his ass is probably not gonna able to move past it without quitting his job and trying something else which he can’t do because his job owns his apartment and his groceries and the clothes on his back. So he’s just kind of fucked 👍

guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

OH BOY!!! He actually doesn’t have that much guilt, especially compared to some of these other guys? He’s like. Aware that he is NOT on the right side of history here, that the company/arm of gov’t he works for is Not Good and is Not Doing Good Things for the people of the citystate and is in fact generally doing a lot of Bad. But also like that’s not his problem he just works there. He’s got bigger issues. He’s in the individual murders department not the police brutality department what do you want him to do?

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

WELL! Not a romantic relationship, bc he’s had one (1) of those ever, but again the bit where Kyrie dipped on him when he was 14 to go join the metaphorical army I think counts pretty solidly as heartbreaking for him. Also scifantasy 9/11 did not go well for him but that’s a whole other can of worms

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

YEAH BABEYYYYYY!!! Top ten guys who does a lot to avoid being perceived EVER. Hang on wait I can make a meme

[asexual-but]

Character bingo for Xingqiu, scaramouche, or kaeya?

Xingqiu ^^

They are soooooo cool looking-

I absolutely adore Xingqiu's design. Again with the colors, they're gorgeous! The dark blues and the gold work perfectly together!

I actively dislike them, sorry-

I also find him annoying, he feels like a younger kid who lives on your street and really wants your attention.

Wow! They are a horrible person!-

Xingqiu is kind of horrible to my boy Chongyun. That, my friends, is a bully, not a friend.

Scaramouche/Wanderer :)

I like them enough to project my own issues to them-

I honestly didn't like him at all the first time I saw him. Afterwards I made the mistake of trying to draw him, and that just won't help your opinion of any Genshin character.

But now, seeing how his character has developed and hopefully will continue to develop, I like him a lot more.

Nothing I like about them is technically canon-

I.... I read a fic with him having a kitsune familiar like Ei and Yae, but I can't find it anymore someone help.

That fic is just so funny that I actually went and made a character with this idea. I love the idea of him having a familiar who is like bonded to him so not only will it not leave him alone, he can't even try to get rid of it without immense emotional distress. Like Ha, take that.

They work better as part of a dynamic-

Aforementioned Kitsune aside.

Him and Nahida and him and Lumine specifically is really funny. Lumine is the traveler I chose, but I think she just works more as the more serious and reserved of the two.

Scaramouche played against someone who simply will not put up with his shit. Or who will put up with it and find ways to redirect his energy and he HATES it. (except he doesn't, but he'll never admit that)

Wow! They are a horrible person-

Scaramouche has done things. Many things, many horrible things. But I really enjoyed the fact that he accepted that he did these things. He has chosen to be aware of the things he once did, and hopefully is choosing actively to become better. That's so fun, a character who wants better for themselves, so they work to be better??

They got too much screen time-

I'm just.... There's only so much I can stand of characters like this. Unfortunately, I reached the limit immediately in Inazuma, and again in the recent event. I'm just tired of him at this point.

They are soooooo cool looking-

Big surprise, I like Kaeya's design.

I actually mostly enjoy what I think it implies? I have a different headcanon for basically every character's body type. None of them look the same in my head as they do in canon... basically except Kaeya.

I like him lanky! Well, maybe not lanky, but lean. Not very wide, not super bulky, but still strong. I like this as a contrast to Diluc, who I see as being rather wide and bulky. :)

They're deeper than they seem-

I think a lot of people flatten his character into being just being secretive and hot. I'm just saying that this man is kind of a shambling mass of issues that would benefit from a hug, a kiss on the forehead, and some therapy.

Not as deep as they seem-

Guys we can think about his abyssal heritage later, let's talk about his other emotional issues first, I think they're more interesting.

I like them enough to project my own issues onto them-

It was a long journey for him to get here. I'm not going to elaborate very much, because it's more personal than I'd like to get, but know that I do.

They got done DIRTY by fans-

Kaeya is more than eyecandy!!! He's also a funny little guy!!! A sad little guy!!!

They've never done anything wrong in their life<3-

He like... hasn't. Like, I'm not joking. I thought he had, but do you know why he told Diluc about his secret backstory?? Because if you read his character story, it feels like he wanted to be punished for being born. That he was feeling guilt for what he assumed he was in Mondstadt for, and then Diluc tried to murder him.

We know I love Diluc, but I'm absolutely a Kaeya defender in this exact moment.

[kthulhu42]

i read your post abt your husband and it made me very sad because it just felt like a sobering reminder... you wrote he listened to you but i feel like a woman wouldn't do the whole thing to her male partner, a woman would never ignore her husband like that. i want to marry my bf but i just cant stop thinking about him changing his behavior or just acting like men do, and it seems to always happen. may i ask you if you are happy in that marriage at all? any tips?..

I've been thinking about this too, and you're right. I never would have just assumed that any evening was "free" just because my husband hadn't specifically requested that we spend that time together. And I think I was feeling a little bad - we got together when we were both quite young, and I already had a baby. So I was feeling some guilt, because people tend to act like a woman (and a child especially) is a ball-and-chain for men, and I wanted him to be able to go out and have fun. Be the cool wife.

But I am very happy, because I do feel listened to. There have been several times where his actions have quite strongly proven his willingness to support our family, and his refusal to accept anyone disrespecting me. For instance, he has always defended me and my opinions, even if they aren't his own. He shuts down sexism (and dealt with the fallout of that) in his friend groups. He has physically protected my son and I. After I told him how much I was hurt by people accusing me of stopping him from going out, he has been clarifying to them - this is his choice, he wants to do this. He heard me, he made changes.

I think that he does have some internalised misogyny. (I do, too). But his actions and his growth make me feel safe.

It is scary to get married. This is my second marriage - my first fell apart, as marriages often do, shortly after I gave birth. But I also married very young.

Tips? Have your own finances. I do in this marriage and I feel so much more secure. I do not have to worry about financial control, and I have money for emergencies or (god forbid) escape. Some people argue that if you feel like you "need" money to leave, it's a bad relationship, but as someone who has been in bad relationships, and worked with many women who have needed to leave with nothing except their clothes, it's a legitimate concern. If something does happen, it's good to have that financial breathing space.

Also - have your own hobbies and interests. Don't let their interests dwarf yours! Especially if you plan on having children. A lot of women say they put everything aside for their family, but the things that give you joy are absolutely vital to your psyche.

I would also say that a good predictor of character (for dating women and men) is how they react to criticism:

Do they get petty, aggressive, upset? Do they immediately come up with something you did wrong in the past, to deflect the conversation? Do they listen respectfully?

Once they have listened, do they then make changes (or small steps towards change) to their behaviour?

If they go "Well YOU forgot to do the dishes last night!" Then they're not taking your concerns seriously. If they say "I'm so sorry" but then do the same hurtful things, they're not the person you want to be marrying.

I'm definitely not the most qualified to talk about how to have a good relationship, but feeling happy and safe has always been my goal, and now I'm there. There will be rough spots in any relationship (whether internal or external stresses) but if the bedrock is happiness and safety, and a genuine respect and love for each other, you'll get through it.

[doyouevermakeasound]

First Time for Everything

This is the story centered around my OC Noah. It is a slow burn and I have a shocking amount of it written but I really just need to connect the two parts since I don't write linearly.

TW: Interrogation, discussion of future torture, knife

First Chapter 

Previous Chapter

He couldn’t shake his nerves as he walked towards the building that had two prisoners tied up in one of the rooms.  Excitement mixed with fear, a sense of humiliation and guilt also found their place.  

As he walked into the building he could hear the two of them talking, they hadn’t heard him walk in despite his stiff gait.  The events of yesterday left him sore.  He waited outside the room as they talked after setting down his backpack.

“How close are you to getting that rope off?”  The voice was urgent.  

“Almost… there…”

Well that wasn’t good.  He walked in and the one that was Ruby’s assistant was using a busted part of the chair to attempt to cut through the rope.  “I would stop if I were you.”

Both of them looked over at him as he stepped into the room.  The one that was the general office aide immediately started to spit vitriol in his direction.  They had placed them with their backs facing each other, leaving them to face the wall.

“You’re a fucking coward!  Taking us in as hostages- and for what?  They aren’t going to accept any trades.”  The one named Rachel told Noah as he crossed the room to fix Viktor’s bonds.

“Who said anything about trying to trade for you two?  As far as Uniformity is concerned, you probably died during that attack.”  He tested the rope before stepping back.  He looked between the two of them, Viktor was cool and confident, Rachel was angry and rightfully so.  “So Viktor,” He flinched at the mention of his name.  “You were Ruby’s assistant, right?”

“Don’t fucking say a thing!”  Rachel instructed.  

Viktor spat back over his shoulder, “I won’t!”

He stayed silent as he watched the two of them bicker back and forth.  Clearly these two weren’t the best of friends when they were working together.  The moment he started walking back towards his backpack the two of them quieted.  He came back with a length of cloth in his hands Rachel immediately scoffed.

“What, you’re already tired of us?”

“I’m not a fan of the bickering.  Unless of course you both decide that you want to talk.  Viktor,” Noah watched him tense at the sound of his name, “I’ve got to be honest.  I’m most interested in what you have to say.  I’m sure you’ve heard a lot.”

“I didn’t talk to the other people you sent and I’m not going to talk now.”  Viktor growled.  

Noah brought the length of cloth closer to Rachel’s mouth, she was trying her best to keep her mouth away from it but resisting was futile.  He tied the remaining length of cloth behind her head.  She tried headbutting him but he simply wasn’t in range.  

“Now Viktor.  It’s just you and I.”  Noah still stayed in Rachel’s field of vision.  “How are you doing today?  Do you need anything?”

The glare from Rachel was exhilarating, he continued maintaining eye contact with her.  

Viktor didn’t answer and Noah broke eye contact with Rachel to walk over to his side.  “Viktor, we can’t really have a good conversation if you’re not willing to talk to me.”

Viktor kept his lips in a thin straight line as he focused on avoiding eye contact with Noah.  

Excellent.  He rested a hand on his shoulder and Viktor flinched.  “You don’t have to be afraid of me.  We can make this work, you give me what I want, you leave this room alive and unharmed.  We may keep you on a short leash, at least for a little while, all the while you can stay safe at one of the camps we have.  Uniformity doesn’t have to know that you’re alive.  You can live a normal life.”

Viktor looked down at the floor, past Noah.  He still wouldn’t speak.

Noah went and kneeled in front of Viktor suppressing a groan from the movement.  Viktor’s eyes immediately pivoted away.  “What would it take for you to talk?  We can do this your way or we can do this my way.”  

Rachel growled, Noah maintained eye contact with Viktor.  

He stood up and walked over to his backpack.  “Suit yourself then.”

Even with his back turned he could hear the panic in Viktor’s voice.  “Wait!  What are you planning on doing?”

He turned to face him, “It depends.  Talk.”  The sweet honey that had laced his voice was gone.  

The abrupt change in tone wasn’t lost on Viktor as he finally met Noah’s eyes.  An internal battle raged on behind his eyes.  Rachel let out another timely scream and his resolution hardened once more.

“Okay, suit yourself.”  The pack contained a few things he thought he might need, including his favorite weapon: a knife.  The skills that he possessed with it had been carefully curated over the years.  

The butterflies in his stomach started again.  He turned to face the two of them and he made sure that they could see the smile that splayed across his lips.

Viktor was cracking even before Noah could bring the knife down on him.  When he walked back over to them Viktor was starting to become a sputtering mess.

“You can’t- you won’t- This isn’t right!”  Viktor was visibly trembling.  

Noah brought the blade under Viktor’s chin and tilted it upwards.  “I can, I will.  I don’t have to unless you tell me what you know.”  Those words were almost a whisper.

He was crying, Noah couldn’t blame him.  Full sobs racked through him and while Noah let him have a moment he had a timeline to work with.  He pulled the knife away, Viktor didn’t notice, and punched him to snap him back to reality.  

Viktor went back to sniffling, his focus back on Noah and a bruise blossoming on his jaw.  

“Viktor…” Noah purred.  “I need you to remain composed.  We’re having a conversation here.  Can you do that?”

His eyes were puffy and red.  He didn’t answer.  

Deep down, this thrilled Noah.

Next Chapter

[jimmy-valmer-official]

can u write a fic abt Jimmy pining for Heidi thank youuu

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ask and you shall recieve 🤲🏽 (still accepting requests if anyones interested! :0)

also gonna post it here if you dont wanna hop onto ao3 vv

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Jimmy absolutely thrived when it came to socializing.

After all, it was a combination of some of his favorite things— talking, for instance, or delivering a crafty punchline that, at times, was grossly offensive but funny all the same. It was one of the things that he excelled at, among other things, and he felt as if he could pull words out of thin air.

…Usually.

Usually, because as Heidi Turner stood in front of him casually, sharing her ideas about what their group project should focus on as they stood in the middle of the high school hallways at the end of the school day, he could do nothing but stare.

“ —So I was thinking we could do one about chloroplasts, y’know? Because they’re easy to explain and there’s a bunch of stuff on the internet we could use. What do you think?”

Right, the science project. That was what they were doing. What was this about chloroplasts…?

“Oh, uh…” Science project. Think about the science project.

But his mind was occupied with other things. Of course, it wasn’t uncommon for him to find the occasional person attractive— hell, there were a lot of nice looking people out there— but to call this a simple, measly attraction was certainly an understatement.

Heidi was very beautiful. Cute, even, not to mention undeniably charming. There was just something about her hair, and her beanie with the little flower on it, and the softness of her skin, and her shining eyes…

…Which were staring right at him intently, expecting a response. Jimmy didn’t need to be a high class detective to know that he had definitely missed something.

“Jimmy?”

“Yes, right,” he cleared his throat and tried to get back on topic. Something about chloroplasts, something about a boring project. “Well, I think that s- suh… I think that sounds excellent, Heidi!” What had she said again? “We should get to- to working on that soon very much.”

He seriously hoped that she’d explain it to him again later. He was starting to feel a bit guilty for not listening when she had proposed her idea in the first place. It was a weird, unexplainable type of guilt.

She grinned at him, and he had to blink a few times, blinded as if he had looked directly at the sun. “Great! Okay. Well I’m gonna go home now, then. We can work on it this weekend… I’m free on Sunday. Does that work?”

Her voice was quite nice, too…

“Y- yeah, that works,” he said in a daze, and then he immediately wanted to punch himself. Sunday absolutely did not work. He had a stage play to watch and then he had speech therapy right afterwards, not to mention bible study in the morning beforehand.

Great. And here he was, standing there quietly and not correcting himself at all. The words that usually came so easily to him were jammed tightly in his head.

“Alright!” Heidi exclaimed. Jimmy couldn’t possibly interrupt her now. “Well, I'll see you later then, okay?”

He nodded. Tried to keep his cool. But his smile felt way too affectionate on his face. “Yeah, I’ll c- catch you later.”

When she was gone, he felt simultaneously fuzzy and vaguely disappointed. Which was bad, because it meant that he was no better than a senile cat.

His heart felt funny in his chest, and he waited for her to exit the building, which was mostly empty at this point, before doing the same. Thankfully, he walked considerably slower than her, so she was already gone by the time he was outside.

…Damn it. Damn it.

What even was the science project?

He made his way towards the general direction of his house, and although he had a well trained neutral expression on his face, his mind was spinning with random things like, for whatever reason, brown hair and flower beanies. A soft voice saying who knew what, smooth hands clutching the straps of a purple backpack…

He just couldn’t get the sight of Heidi out of his mind.

He tried thinking of jokes as a distraction, but the punchlines kept slipping through his fingers like sand. He couldn’t even remember any of his scripts despite studying them a million times over. To be honest, the only thing that was clear in his mind was that he already wanted to see Heidi again— but he also really, really didn’t.

Girls were usually just a crutch for him that made him look cooler in the public eye. Because every guy has been in a relationship. He always liked to show his partners off, flaunt a bit, make up lies about what they did together at his house as if they weren’t just doing homework while sitting next to each other.

Normally that was fine. It was normal and acceptable… more like going through the motions if anything— Get together, hang out in public, go to the movies a few times, have sleepovers, and then break up a few weeks later. Over and over again. Not very exciting, to be frank, when it was repeated so many times.

So why did he feel so struck with giddiness at the thought of doing all of that with Heidi? Why did the last step feel more like a bad thing instead of a normal conclusion?

That wasn’t how it usually worked. Surely this was something else.

His heart was beating fast.

And that was also weird. Dating was something that helped your image. It made people look good. It was cool, and that was it. Right?

This… didn’t feel cool.

This felt fuzzy. Warm. When she had spoken to him— and sure, he had heard her talk at some point before, but it was only just now processing in his mind— it had felt like his soul was dipped in honey and placed on a small paper boat in a pond. And that was way too warm to be a simple charade in the making.

… And far too sappy to be even slightly cool.

He sighed, long and drawn out, stopping in his path for a moment to glance at the sky before moving forward again.

It was going to be one hell of a night, that was for sure.

[lunarifie]

Rewatching Ninjago

(With no context other than the episode)

The Tournament of Elements episode 5-6

Dont get me wrong i love dareth but why is he the most prominent side side character in the show

Coles whistling sounds so pretty

I love how Cole accepted his faith, giving up, but then he found Zane, gaining a whole new motivation to escape.

Its canon that Dareth nows makeup :)

It was so funny how Nya just kept swatting Jays face until he fucking paid attention and looked 💀

Nya: that means theres a spy!

Literally ten seconds after skyler gives Kai the message she got from cole

Kai: a spy… its a good thing we have some people we can trust. thanks skyler!

Omfg i cant with him

Cole: Time to break out!

(Starts running on the conveyor belt and eating pasta as a show of rebellion)

BFJSNFJDNJR

It was so unexpected

Cole doesnt have his super strength or his elemental powers and he’s still taking on 12 guards at a time and winning

Nevermind

HE GOT THE KEYS

Zane: Cole.. you came back.

Cole: of course i did you shiny new tin can!!! (Hugs him) can you feel the love!

Zane: no.

Cole: ☹️

I really thought Nya was gonna just run away but ripping the spell page out of the book is so smart

Zane: the serpents strategy is very clever-

Cole: WERE ABOUT TO BE EATEN, ZANE.

Cole: pixal?!?!? you got a girl stuck in your head?!?!!!

Coles lines are always the best

Chen: youre harshing my viiiibe 🙄💅

Holy shit dareth can actually sing, good for him

A painting falls on Jay and suddenly hes immobile, get yourself together my guy

Kinda crazy how there's spys on both sides here

Oh wait

The title is ‘spy for a spy’

I'm stupid

The ninja will be like ‘a ninja should-’ and ‘a ninja shouldnt’ and then just say basic morals

Nya is such a girlboss in this

See this is what im talking about when I say she knows how to fight

Its so cool that one of the most intense battles we get in a season called ‘the tournament of the elements’ is nya against clouse

Ohhhh okay so skylers his daughter

Honestly thought she was his granddaughter with how old he was

Jay: they want us to hunt nya down! She wont stand a chance!

Jesus jay have a little faith in her, now ik what she means when she said you dont take her seriously

Ik Skyler is withering in guilt bc everytime she talks to Kai it's like ‘yes, im here for a loved one and im trying my best, oh and that's my sister were all hunting down, another loved one.’

He doesn't catch a break

Why did they ALL let go of their parachutes when the floor gave way.

Lloyd saving his father by giving him the parachute and Garmadom immediately growing worried and angry is just- 👌

Wait Lloyd can make an energy dragon?

Thought that was something he could only do as the golden ninja

Maybe the golden power was like a boost. Helped him work his powers better and now it's more difficult.

Can all the ninja do that? Is that like a thing? Making an energy dragon?

Nya is so smart she's great

Coles covered in powder AGAIN why does he keep doing this

Zane: with all our combined weight, escaping through the system should be fine.

Darreth enters the scene

Cole: time to think up another plan

That was so mean 😭

Chen was always just like that huh

Garmadon was so… sincere. So good even when evil was consuming him. He didn't even want to replace Wus love letter with his name

Okay yeah I fucking hate Chen he can rot in hell.

Kai: maybe we should be together- wait no that didnt come out right. I mean its a big island so maybe if we were a couple. Wait no! What i mean is-

Hes so in deep

Hes so ‘confident’ and flirtatious like that girl at the gas station but when he actually likes someone hes such a goofball :)

Mr pale: youll never get away with this chen.

Chen: Really? Where have you been! Ive been getting away with this time and time again!

I cant believe they showed that the master of flight was killed and due to that he had no descendent to give his power to

The tea lady!!!!

Kai and Nyas parents :)

Its so nice to see these cameos

Dont the anacondrai generals come back sometime in skybound?

Wait I thought Wu and Misako knew about Garmadons letter and him training under chen

Cole: okay, so maybe rolling ourselves up into giant eggrolls isnt the best plan.

Karlof: we could make a roto jet

Zane: that could actually work!

Cole:

Cole: we’re UNDERGROUND.

Okay but what is actually inherently wrong with clouses use of the dark art.

From what i can tell, its able to use a bit of every element and more but what's wrong with it other than how him using it for malicious intent

Holy shit Jay just fucking exploded

SKYLER.

How did she not think that through

You JUST used the ice power of the friend Kais literally searching for

On the other hand she was being really truthful at that moment in wanting to make sure Kais friends were okay and in a moment of desperation, used Zanes power. Which she would not have done if she was thinking carefully about keeping herself hidden as the spy.

The way they animate Skyler makes her so emotionless. Like, give my girl more than one expression.

[shadeswift99]

"Redemption arcs are an overdone and badly executed trope" factoid is actually just statistical error. Redemption Arcs Mythicalsausage, who spent episodes after his Xornoth possession systematically apologizing to the people he hurt and working to regain their trust while also giving them ample space to forgive him or not forgive him in their own time, as well as setting up an accountability network to keep himself from falling into evil again, is an outlier adn SHOULD be counted because oh my god it is so refreshing to see someone actually make their redemption a real arc instead of just a tacked-on excuse and a guilt trip -