#but he's still such an interesting character

[wtfforged]

my campaign hiatus has gone on for too long so to cope ive combined my interests at their maximum potency and had some dnd-strawhats thoughts

thoughts in depth under read more... :)!

this is SO self indulgent. their designs literally did not change. but i am a firm believer that dnd doesnt have to be european high fantasy. and also one piece literally IS fantasy. no changes are necessary to fit into dnd. ive already imagined plenty of campaign/oneshot ideas inspired by one piece. so this was basically just an exercise of trying to replicate their canon abilities in dnd 5e as much as possible without totally homebrewing everything. well. aside from luffy. you just cant take away or change his stretching.

LUFFY: (human monk. drunken master subclass. outlander)

the only plain human of the crew to balance out with the fact that he still has rubber powers. obviously a monk. but drunken master subclass specifically because i think the flavor(not the fact that its about being a drunkard) and abilities both fit him really well. this line in the subclass' flavortext especially fits him: "A drunken master often enjoys playing the fool to bring gladness to the despondent or to demonstrate humility to the arrogant, but when battle is joined, the drunken master can be a maddening, masterful foe."

ZORO: (tiefling fighter. samurai subclass. bounty hunter)

a fighter with the samurai subclass is so very incredibly obvious... but i actually had a lot of fun geeking out while comparing the abilities to what he can do in canon; Fighting Spirit, Rapid Strike, and Strength Before Death especially! tiefling is also pretty on the nose for his demon pirate hunter shtick and asura form, but i thought he'd be really human-passing for a tiefling and theorized about his tail getting cut off at some point or another before joining the strawhats. initially wasnt gonna give him a feat, but i gave sanji a feat so i thought itd be unfair to not give him one as well, so sentinel fits the bill pretty well i think!

NAMI: (tabaxi rogue. arcane trickster subclass. criminal)

cat burglar -> full grown literal humanoid cat. this one is INCREDIBLY self indulgent... i love... cats... theres nothing deeper to this and no other reasoning. i took cat burglar and ran with it. can you tell that i love izutsumi dungeon meshi? rogue for the aforementioned burglar-ing as well, and the arcane trickster subclass for when she picks up climatact! the mage hand will be very useful for her pickpocketing. in the future as she levels up with timeskip, i can totally see her multiclassing into wizard as well! weather wizard!

USOPP: (lightfoot halfling artificer. artillerist subclass. urchin)

I HAD SO MUCH FUN THINKING ABOUT HIS CHARACTER SHEET. halfling's Naturally Stealthy ability lets him hide behind his crewmates since theyre (almost) all bigger than him, so its perfect for hiding behind zoro or sanji all the time. Lucky is also perfect for him, and I think Brave fits pretty well too when he puts on the sogeking mask. artillerist artificer is also very fun! tinkering and making magic items for his crew, and i think Eldritch Canon or Arcane Firearm could both be easily reflavored as kabuto or any of his inventions. for emphasizing his sniper-ness, the spell sniper feat was also necessary. i think hes my favorite of all the concepts. big ears and long nose combo is so cute to me.

SANJI: (half-elf monk. drunken master subclass. guild artisan (cook!))

race was mostly based on vibes i wont lie. squints. and that vinsmoke balogna or whatever too ig. but mostly vibes. along with the idea that i think a dwarf zeff raising him would be really funny and cute. monk is also obvious, and same subclass as luffy for mostly the same reasons. though the flavor fits him much less, i think the abilities still fit him perfectly, and this blurb specifically; "Your martial arts technique mixes combat training with the precision of a dancer." i really wanted to give him a different subclass from luffy, but i dislike all the other monk subclasses a lot and i found none of them fit him as well anyways, so to try and give them SOME differences, i gave him the crusher feat.

CHOPPER: (awakened deer(shifter statblock) cleric. life subclass. hermit)

this ones definitely a mouthful im sorry. awakened deer for obvious reasons, but due to magic instead of devil fruit stuff. when i was struggling with his race, i looked a lot at shifter because of his forms, but it occurred to me that itd be super cool if he could shift between all of the different shifter options instead of being stuck with just one to replicate his rumble balls. something like heavy point/guard point=beasthide, horn point/arm point(?maybe?)=longtooth, walk point/jumping point=swiftstride, and brain point=wildhunt. hed definitely need some kind of nerf though to balance out that homebrew... and cleric for class. duh.

ROBIN: (high elf wizard. order of scribes subclass. criminal)

robin is definitely the one i struggled the most with just because of her class. elf came pretty easily- shes very elegant and i think shed look cute with super long ears- and i landed on high elf instead of wood elf for the int-based abilities. i was really on the fence between sorcerer and wizard for her because i knew shed be a full spellcaster, but i didnt feel that any of the subclasses really fit her. i ended up going with wizard for order of the scribes since it focuses on texts and knowing everything. but also because robin with a flying talking sentient book would be crazy cool. it could also be similar to how she spawns mouths and eyes places to talk to or watch people. my "fuck it, why not. this would be rad. its my house" mindset kicked in with her i will admit. also the One with the Word ability made me cackle out loud when i read it. thats the funniest ability ever. anyways, i cant really think of a way to replicate her powers, but maybe we could just reflavor a bunch of spells to be her limbs or clutch; hold person, maximillian's earthen grasp, or evard's black tentacles. thatd probably work okay, and theres a handful of spells to replicate her ability to spawn eyes or mouths. unrelated, but i imagine nico olvia to be a drow. why? her hair is white. i am a simple man!

[neil-gaiman]

This isn’t a question, but I want to thank you for your books and how they’ve impacted my life.

Over thirteen years ago, I read Neverwhere for the first time and it changed what kind of writer I wanted to be. I went on to read more of your books—my other two favourites were The Graveyard Book and The Ocean at the End of the Lane.

About 11 or so years ago, I asked you on Twitter if I could read Stardust on a Twitch livestream, and you responded, “Fine by me”. It was one of my best streams, and while life got in the way of me doing more, I still remember it incredibly fondly.

Ten years ago I had a baby, and while he was an infant, I read him, Fortunately, the Milk, in an attempt to read him a book. He didn’t seem interested. I decided I’d try again some other time perhaps. But I did resolve to get him to read The Graveyard Book someday.

Nine years ago, when I was a mother of a one-year-old, I posted a status on Facebook simply saying, “We do not forget.”

Two years ago, I went on holiday, and I downloaded the audio book version of The Graveyard Book from our local library. My eight-year-old son listened to it as he fell asleep, though he ended up missing some parts, and we shelved it.

Last year, he read Coraline and didn’t like it. That isn’t your fault. He read Charlotte’s Web and didn’t like that either. He just didn’t quite have the understanding for them.

This year, he read Coraline and liked it. I told him it was from the same author as The Graveyard Book. He lamented that he never finished The Graveyard Book, and I said he could always download it from the library again.

Then about a month ago, he and I went through a tough time. I was really stressed about life, he wasn’t doing so well either, and our relationship got strained. I was angry with him all the time. I needed a break from him, or I thought I did. But one day when he was at his dad’s I realised that I wouldn’t get this time back. That I needed to fix it. So I asked him if he wanted me to read to him at bedtime. Just like when he was little. And we settled on The Graveyard Book.

On nights when he got to bed on time, I’d read a chapter. It often meant stretching past bedtime, but I could never stop halfway. It had been years since I’d read it too, and I found myself remembering things I’d forgotten. I’d watch his dark eyes widen whenever things got exciting, and I loved when he would interrupt me with an important revelation. “It’s Scarlett! His friend!” he’d say. “The dog! The grey dog!” “I know what Silas is!” He would tell me that I did the voices so well, that it seemed to match each character so perfectly.

We didn’t read every night, but it was a treat when we did. One night we had an argument and he told me he hated me. That he wished I was dead. And that he wanted to be with his dad. I told him to go take a shower, and that I’d ask his dad to come get him. His dad said no, but agreed to talk to him on the phone. After the shower, my son apologised for what he said. I said okay, and told him to call his dad to chat. After their call, he asked if we would still have story time. I asked if he preferred that or to have some space. He said he wanted both, but wanted story time more than space. So I read to him. It was the chapter when Bod and Silas argued, and then apologised to each other. Halfway through that chapter, my son asked for snuggles. I said, what happened to space? And he said, “I want snuggles more than space.”

We were sad when it ended. We finished it last weekend. I cried as I read it. But it was a beautiful sadness. We’ve talked about it a bit since then, to process it. He says he would like to read more about Silas and Bod’s adventures and asked if there was fan fiction about it. I told him to look, and to write some if there wasn’t. Perhaps I’ll write some too, just for him.

Last night he was at his dad’s and I was browsing Facebook and sent him a couple of his old pictures. Then I found an old post. From exactly nine years ago. And so I sent it to him.

It brought tears to my eyes. I did not remember making that post, and I’ve forgotten a great deal over the years, but I hope I do not forget these little moments with my son. But even if I do, I have them written down here to remind me again.

And thank you. For the words you’ve written and the impact you’ve had on our lives and hearts. I hope that your life holds the same amount of joy and love that you’ve given to others with your words.

That made me so happy. Thank you. I hope you and your son keep growing together.

[togglesbloggle]

For the Reverse Unpopular Opinion meme, Lamarckism!

(This is an excellent ask.)

Lamarck got done a bit dirty by the textbooks, as one so often is. He's billed as the guy who articulated an evolutionary theory of inherited characteristics, inevitably set up as an opponent made of straw for Darwin to knock down. The example I recall my own teachers using in grade school was the idea that a giraffe would strain to reach the highest branches of a tree, and as a result, its offspring would be born with slightly longer necks. Ha-ha-ha, isn't-that-silly, isn't natural selection so much more sensible?

But the thing is, this wasn't his idea, not even close. People have been running with ideas like that since antiquity at least. What Lamarck did was to systematize that claim, in the context of a wider and much more interesting theory.

Lamarck was born in to an era where natural philosophy was slowly giving way to Baconian science in the modern sense- that strange, eighteenth century, the one caught in an uneasy tension between Newton the alchemist and Darwin the naturalist. This is the century of Ben Franklin and his key and his kite, and the awed discovery that this "electricity" business was somehow involved in living organisms- the discovery that paved the way for Shelley's Frankenstein. This was the era when alchemy was fighting its last desperate battles with chemistry, when the division between 'organic' and 'inorganic' chemistry was fundamental- the first synthesis of organic molecules in the laboratory wouldn't occur until 1828, the year before Lamarck's death. We do not have atoms, not yet. Mendel and genetics are still more than a century away; we won't even have cells for another half-century or more.

Lamarck stepped in to that strange moment. I don't think he was a bold revolutionary, really, or had much interest in being one. He was profoundly interested in the structure and relationships between species, and when we're not using him as a punching bag in grade schools, some people manage to remember that he was a banging good taxonomist, and made real progress in the classification of invertebrates. He started life believing in the total immutability of species, but later was convinced that evolution really was occurring- not because somebody taught him in the classroom, or because it was the accepted wisdom of the time, but through deep, continued exposure to nature itself. He was convinced by the evidence of his senses.

(Mostly snails.)

His problem was complexity. When he'd been working as a botanist, he had this neat little idea to order organisms by complexity, starting with the grubbiest, saddest little seaweed or fern, up through lovely flowering plants. This was not an evolutionary theory, just an organizing structure; essentially, just a sort of museum display. But when he was asked to do the same thing with invertebrates, he realized rather quickly that this task had problems. A linear sorting from simple to complex seemed embarrassingly artificial, because it elided too many different kinds of complexity, and ignored obvious similarities and shared characteristics.

When he went back to the drawing board, he found better organizing schema; you'd recognize them today. There were hierarchies, nested identities. Simple forms with only basic, shared anatomical patterns, each functioning as a sort of superset implying more complex groups within it, defined additively by the addition of new organs or structures in the body. He'd made a taxonomic tree.

Even more shockingly, he realized something deep and true in what he was looking at: this wasn't just an abstract mapping of invertebrates to a conceptual diagram of their structures. This was a map in time. Complexities in invertebrates- in all organisms!- must have been accumulating in simpler forms, such that the most complicated organisms were also the youngest.

This is the essential revolution of Lamarckian evolution, not the inherited characteristics thing. His theory, in its full accounting, is actually quite elaborate. Summarized slightly less badly than it is in your grade school classroom (though still pretty badly, I'm by no means an expert on this stuff), it looks something like this:

As we all know, animals and plants are sometimes generated ex nihilo in different places, like maggots spontaneously appearing in middens. However, the spontaneous generation of life is much weaker than we have supposed; it can only result in the most basic, simple organisms (e.g. polyps). All the dizzying complexity we see in the world around us must have happened iteratively, in a sequence over time that operated on inheritance between one organism and its descendants.

As we all know, living things are dynamic in relation to inorganic matter, and this vital power includes an occasional tendency to gain in complexity. However, this tendency is not a spiritual or supernatural effect; it's a function of natural, material processes working over time. Probably this has something to do with fluids such as 'heat' and 'electricity' which are known to concentrate in living tissues. When features appear spontaneously in an organism, that should be understood as an intrinsic propensity of the organism itself, rather than being caused by the environment or by a divine entity. There is a specific, definite, and historically contingent pattern in which new features can appear in existing organisms.

As we all know, using different tissue groups more causes them to be expressed more in your descendants, and disuse weakens them in the same way. However, this is not a major feature in the development of new organic complexity, since it could only move 'laterally' on the complexity ladder and will never create new organs or tissue groups. At most, you might see lineages move from ape-like to human-like or vice versa, or between different types of birds or something; it's an adaptive tendency that helps organisms thrive in different environments. In species will less sophisticated neural systems, this will be even less flexible, because they can't supplement it with willpower the way that complex vertebrates can.

Lamarck isn't messing around here; this is a real, genuinely interesting model of the world. And what I think I'm prepared to argue here is that Lamarck's biggest errors aren't his. He has his own blind spots and mistakes, certainly. The focus on complexity is... fraught, at a minimum. But again and again, what really bites him in the ass is just his failure to break with his inherited assumptions enough. The parts of this that are actually Lamarckian, that is, are the ideas of Lamarck, are very clearly groping towards a recognizable kind of proto-evolutionary theory in a way that we recognize.

What makes Lamarck a punching bag in grade-school classes today is the same thing that made it interesting; it's that it was the best and most scientific explanation of biological complexity available at the time. It was the theory to beat, the one that had edged out all the other competitors and emerged as the most useful framework of the era. And precisely none of that complexity makes it in to our textbooks; they use "Lamarckianism" to refer to arguments made by freaking Aristotle, and which Lamarck himself accepted but de-emphasized as subordinate processes. What's even worse, Darwin didn't reject this mechanism either. Darwin was totally on board with the idea as a possible adaptive tendency; he just didn't particularly need it for his theory.

Lamarck had nothing. Not genetics, not chromosomes, not cells, not atomic theory. Geology was a hot new thing! Heat was a liquid! What Lamarck had was snails. And on the basis of snails, Lamarck deduced a profound theory of complexity emerging over time, of the biosphere as a(n al)chemical process rather than a divine pageant, of gradual adaptation punctuated by rapid innovation. That's incredible.

There's a lot of falsehood in the Lamarckian theory of evolution, and it never managed to entirely throw off the sloppy magical thinking of what came before. But his achievement was to approach biology and taxonomy with a profound scientific curiosity, and to improve and clarify our thinking about those subjects so dramatically that a theory of biology could finally, triumphantly, be proven wrong. Lamarck is falsifiable. That is a victory of the highest order.

[meadowofdarts]

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• ─ You're boyfriend whom you've dated for a long time now can't help but appreciate once again how grateful he is to have you as his partner. • ─ a/n: missed just making cute little oneshots before my first ever series (arrow, your first oneshots were angst as hell, you are so delusional-) • ─ characters: kaedehara kazuha, thoma, neuvillette, arataki itto, alhaitham, kaveh • ─ full of fluff today :D

• ─ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

Sitting beside each other as the ray of sun that is about to set down sets down upon where you two are sitting, you both continue to silently cuddle against each other at the peak of one of Liyue's mountains.

You both would have to again travel together and depart back to the crux, but you both just wanted to be in each other's presence; with your head lying on Kazuha's chest, relaxing on his lap while he held you close, nuzzling his face to your head.

Your eyes were closed, enjoying the warmth of your lover, so much that you didn't notice his soft gaze upon your own face.

Even though you and him have been together for a long time, he secretly always has time to admire you and think about the times you were guys together.

He does this for no reason at all, just wanting to go back and be grateful for your guys' memories together.

Despite his hardships throughout his life as a wandering samurai, he could never forget the blessing of meeting you as he was playing his leaf silently.

Albeit your guys' first impression was a bit chaotic, remembering you were acting nervous and embarrassed for him caught you watching him play (and for his beautiful looks being so mesmerizing to you), you both immediately were drawn to each other.

You both slowly turned from strangers to acquaintances to friends to lovers. Kazuha couldn't be happier.

He's always happy when you are so interested in him reading and writing his own poems as you both laughed and smiled whilst sitting together in the railings of the crux.

And he's just as interested in your own interests, smiling as you talk happily about it and being incredibly passionate about it along with asking his own questions that shows his interest in it too.

Not to mention, your own personality always puts a smile to his face. Whether it be your chaotic and fun side or your quiet and reserved side of you, his heart would flutter at just how much you make him feel all the time.

All he ever wants is to just be with you, that's all he ever wants from you.

He blushes slightly but doesn't change his soft expression, looking back down at your relaxed expression. He gently presses a kiss on your forehead before muttering and cuddling you more.

"...I love you, [Name]."

...

• ─ THOMA

The sounds of clattering and sizzling echoed through the quiet hallways of the Kamisato Estate.

The noises coming inside the kitchen were two people cooking delicious meals together. Well, more like, one helping the other.

Thoma knows that it has been a while since you've cooked for yourself.

You both were working under the Kamisato Clan, and you both were staff that did household chores daily. Unlike Thoma who does both, you were leaned onto cleaning more than cooking.

And when you both go to your personal shared home together, the roles remain the same. But recently, you've been asking Thoma to help him teach you how to cook food now.

Currently, you were a bit confused about the equipment, and how to properly garnish and add the proper ingredients, so he's guiding you along the process, being considerate and patient with you.

He laughs as you even curse at the steps and everything that becomes frustrating to you.

And yet despite it being incredibly challenging, you still were helping him in the kitchen, even though that Thoma can simply take over and do it by himself. He stops and smiles as he watches you hard at work.

He knows you really just want to help him with the house chores as you didn't really want him to do all of the cooking and cleaning, and you figured that learning how to cook would help you contribute in a way so Thoma doesn't have to do it all the time but rather you both can do them together.

He loves how thoughtful and willing you were to help him with it. He once reassured you that he was perfectly okay, but you still wanted to help him. Your determination and kindness put a smile on his face all the time, his heart just melts when you support him.

Even though he loves his job, he sometimes struggles through it, it can be easy and hard at times, but he knows with you by his side, he's growing to love it even more.

He felt so lucky to have you.

His thoughts were cut off when you accidentally yelped, using the mixer fast made a bit of the mess on the counter, and even splashed to yours and his apron.

"Oops, sorry." You chuckled nervously.

He smiled, kissing your cheek. "Don't worry, [Name]. It happens. Here, let me help you."

...

• ─ NEUVILLETTE

After completing many duties and stacks of reports, Neuvillette finally had the time to spend peacefully with you in his office. Recently, you and he didn't see each other that much due to his sudden overload of work taking up most of his schedule.

He knows his responsibilities and doesn't want to leave them since he knows his role in the Court of Fontaine. But the Iudex would feel bad for leaving you lonely, it pained him, and just thought you would be sad that he hasn't been with you for a bit. He wouldn't want you to think that he was neglecting you.

But instead, you always reassured him that it was perfectly fine. You knew Neuvillette wouldn't do that, and understood what he had to do. You still showed your love and care for him.

But Neuvillette wouldn't want to think about work at the moment, all he is thinking about is you.

You were an angel, really. You emphasized and understood his responsibilities, and you didn't fight against it but rather offered instead your respect and patience with him.

Just as he thought about you, you entered his office. You two immediately shared a hug and a small kiss. Neuvillette wasn't used to this kind of affection but when you always showed him this, it always warms his heart completely.

After a bit of chatting and catching up, you got up and offered him this new tea you bought that you wanted to try out together. All he knows is that you managed to distract yourself into exploring different areas of Fontaine, he was glad to see you enjoy his nation and get new artifacts every day.

You were pouring the tea into his cup, but that short action made Neuvillette just think more deeply about you.

Not only you were an angel at heart, but you also looked like one. He never thought he would see someone just as beautiful as you, your features and all were simply perfect in his eyes, and he couldn't believe you were with him.

He sees you every day and yet can't help but stop again to take a look at you.

More importantly, he is in love with your smile just as much as he fully loves you. Just seeing you happy would make his day and he couldn't ask for anything else.

Noticing his stare, you smiled, confused. "Neuvi? Is something wrong?"

He snapped out of his thoughts before giving you a reassuring smile. "Not at all, darling. Everything is just perfect."

You both would just finally enjoy a time together, simply drinking tea and spending quality time.

...

• ─ ARATAKI ITTO

The whole Arataki gang went to Uyuu Restaurant for just a simple dinner, treated by Itto and Shinobu. They took upon the table on the second floor, filling it up with their voices and drunk brains.

As the other members were helping themselves, Itto was more busy feeding his greatest-best-loveliest lover.

Each time he was feeding you the ramen, onigiri, and dango they served, you would make such a cute expression and hum when eating it and that is something Itto truly loves to see. Literally, he would just squeal inside and his heart would thump continuously.

He knows you have a big appetite and a love for food. The best part of this whole dinner is that he gets to spoil you with food and it'll be worth all of his mora spent.

So he offered to feed you many times which you didn't mind at all, thinking it was a way to show his love to you, which is true but mostly to see your expression that was the cutest thing he had ever seen.

Despite his chaos and roughness, he still has a big heart of gold, especially to you because you are just everything to him.

Soon later, the Arataki gang was just playing honorable Genius Invokation TCG, laughter, shouts, and chatter echoed through the whole second floor since it was the Arataki gang.

As usual, Akira, Genta, and Mamoru would be by Itto's side to cheer him on while Shinobu was at your side.

Itto was literally getting destroyed by you every round since you often win more TCG rounds than him. You did not hesitate to laugh it in front of his face and become more smug than him since he declared victory before he even started the game.

And when he was so close to winning and you once again killed his character cards, he was about to show his frustration and rage through his whining and complaining, the Arataki gang knew he would do so.

But when you laugh and smiled at your victory, Itto would blush furiously before covering it up with his loud voice.

There was no way he could complain in front of you when you looked absolutely adorable at that moment, and the fact that you were happy at your accomplishment prevented him from whining again.

Although he was never really mad in the first place, he was glad to have lost since seeing you be happy is worth it.

Squealing inside with his thumping heart, he instead congratulated you. "Nice job, [Name]! But just know that I only went easy on you since you are my lover!"

You giggled, amused. "Yeah, right."

...

• ─ ALHAITHAM

You and your boyfriend were on the couch of his comforting and quiet home, he was doing his own paperwork while you were sleeping beside him, your head resting on his lap. He didn't mind at all, really.

You actually came to his home unannounced, claiming you were tired and exhausted after working hard in the Akademiya. But Alhaitham still had paperwork to cover so he couldn't amuse you for a bit and you decided to just sleep on his lap.

Honestly, it was a good thing Kaveh isn't home right now, otherwise he would think you would have to deal with his annoying banter if you fell asleep on him.

Alhaitham made sure to check up on you every once in a while. He didn't realize he let out a small smile at seeing your sleeping face.

Your sleeping face reminded him back in the days when you two were students in the Akademiya, he noticed you would fall asleep a lot during lectures.

He knows you would sometimes have a very bad sleeping schedule. That was when you two were students, and yet you still seem to have that as an adult.

He remembers that when you two became close, he would start scolding you for your sleeping schedule and that would result in you two bickering.

Although he doesn't really mean it, he does so because he genuinely cares about you. Despite being aloof, he loves you with all of his heart.

He looks down at you again, putting down his papers to slowly caress your head as you sleep peacefully. Feeling his touch, you even let out a smile through your sleep.

You look perfect.

Alhaitham really feels blessed to have you as his lover, he would want to be with you as always and share your guys' love for each other. You were always there for each other through the ups and downs.

No matter what, he will love you in his heart and he wants to make sure you are loved and cared for too, even if he doesn't show it that often.

Alhaitham gently placed a blanket over you before quietly resuming his paperwork and taking your hand in his free hand.

He will definitely take you out on a date once you wake up.

...

• ─ KAVEH

The House of Daena was still as quiet as ever with dozens of Akademiya students working on different reports, studying in the tables, and scanning through the several books of the library.

But you and Kaveh would come here often since it felt like a relaxing place for both of you.

Kaveh would have dozens of clients that he would need to meet up with as an architect. But surprisingly, he doesn't seem to have any at the moment. So here you two are, sharing Kaveh's designs with you that he did in his spare time.

You had recently asked Kaveh if he could share to you his designs and he was more than happy to do so. Kaveh felt flattered that you seem to take an interest in something he loves to do.

Unlike some of his worst clients who didn't really appreciate his own designs, you were the complete opposite: praising for his hard work and the design taste of his plans.

As you were looking down at his recent designs and appreciating them through your eyes, he turned to you to appreciate you instead.

Kaveh had plenty of struggles as an architect such as debt, crude buyers, etc. But just seeing your eyes sparkle would make all of his negative emotions go away as he would forget about it temporarily.

You would literally be there for him when he rants about the people he found annoying (*cough* alhaitham *cough*), times when he felt like his mind was going to blow, and times when he just wanted to boast about his successful achievements.

And no matter what it was, you would just laugh and smile with him, always seemingly interested in what he had to say.

He felt like he could open up to you anytime and he was grateful to have someone like that.

You were the perfect lover for him.

"Hey, Kaveh? Come on, show me more of your designs!" You smiled at him, eagerly.

He smirks. "Alright, alright, here. Let me show you."

Soon later, Kaveh wants to plan out whatever building you wish and he would want you as his client so he could make it come to life. All just for you.

He can't help that he loves you.

...

[doe-eyed-fool]

Hey, I'm back with another idea Wich I hope will spark ur interest

Would be an alastor x reader

(can be fluff or smutt)

Imagine the reader was out with angel and cherry in a club and in a moment of not paying attention a guy buts a love potion in there drink. After a while reader starts to feel a little funny and tells angel who calles her boyfriend /husband (whatever u like better) to pick her up. After getting reader home alastor takes care of the reader and notices that she is getting more touchy and he realises it could only be a love potion(cause it's out of character for reader) . After reader is asleep the radio demon gets to the club and wrecked the whole place apart till he finds the guy and kills him slowly and gruesomely.

Hope u like it.

Love Potions Are No Fun

Alastor x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): Drinking, Reader Gets Drugged(nothing happens), Murder, Dismemberment, Gore, Torture, Basically Alastor Does His Thing, Spicy But No Smut(sorry😅)

It was suppose to be a fun night. Angel and Cherri had invited you out to the club, and you were excited to go. However, your husband, Alastor, was not too thrilled with the idea. You tried over and over telling him that you would be fine, and you wouldn’t drink too much, considering the two you were going out with weren’t too wise when it came to limiting their alcohol intake.

But Alastor was still hesitant, and even suggested going with you. Though, you knew he wouldn’t enjoy himself or be too comfortable. Unfortunately, he could not doubt you.

So, reluctantly he decided to let you go and he stay home. But only if you promised to be very careful. And you were. You were wise cautious of the people around you, and sipped slowly on a few drinks.

Although, you could not keep track of everyone in the club. And while you were distracted, some guy had slipped something into your drink. He had been eyeing you the moment you walked into the club.

And luckily for him, he had a love potion tucked away on his person. He took the chance you were paying attention, to pour a few drops in your drink before easing his way back into the crowd. And waited…

You were chatting with Angel and Cherri as you sipped on your drink. And everything was fine for a while, until suddenly you felt an odd sensation wash over you. Your face became heated, and your heart was pounding in your chest.

Maybe you drank too much after all. With what little consciousness you had left, you informed Angel of how you were feeling. Suspicious, Angel looked at your drink and felt his heart sink.

Angel quickly grabbed you and excused himself from Cherri as he rushed you out of the club. He knew he’d get his ass shredded for this, but he needed to let Alastor know what happened.

Because Alastor didn’t own a modern phone, Angel called up Charlie and let her know what was going on. It didn’t take long for Alastor to show up as soon as he was told.

“It seems my worry was warranted.”

Angel flinches before turning to face Alastor, who materialized from the shadows. “Uh, h-hey Al!” Angel mutters. “Don’t worry! I uh, kept Y/n out of trouble!”

You blinked a few times, letting your vision adjust. “Alastor?” Your voice slurred. “I feel…weird.”

Alastor approached Angel and carefully takes you from his arms. “I’ll take it from here. But you and I will have words later.” Alastor’s smile was stretched to its limits, a slight growl in his tone as he spoke. “But not before I devour the filth that dared to pull such a stunt on my wife.”

With that, you and Alastor faded into the shadows, leaving Angel alone and shaken up.

Alastor teleports to his room and lays you down on the bed. You let out a breathy sigh as you felt your body become light as a feather. Every nerve in your body fluttered, the slightest touch from Alastor sent a new shiver down your spine.

“My love, how are you feeling?” Alastor asks you. You give him a lazy smile. “Good…” You laugh lightly. “Al…come here. Please…”

Your face felt hot, your stomach fluttered and your heart still pumping fast in your chest.

When Alastor didn’t make a move, you sat up and crawled towards him. “Al?” You place your hands on his chest. “My whole body feels like it’s on fire…” You whisper, making his ear twitch.

“I’m sure.” Alastor says simply. “But I’m afraid there is little I can do for you in this condition.”

Alastor was never interested in sexual intimacy. He would show his love for you in other ways. He would kiss you, hold your hand, hug and cuddle you. Though, most physical acts like that were mainly done in private.

With this all said, on your wedding night, he did give into pleasure. The two of you took things slow, made sure each of your were comfortable.

Alastor was a gentlemen, he knew better than to take advantage of someone when they weren’t in their right mind. It didn’t matter if you were his wife or not. He would not touch you like this. Not unless you were fully aware of what was happening.

“Alastor, please…” You begged, voice slurring. You plant small, albeit sloppy, kisses along his neck and jaw. “Please…”

Alastor takes hold of your hands gently and pulls back. “My dear, I believe it would be best if you get some sleep. You’ll feel much better, I assure you.”

He carefully lays you down on the bed. You wrap your arms around his neck. “Join me?” You smirk. Alastor brushes your hair out of your face, before planting a kiss on your temple.

“I wish I could. But I’m afraid I have some business to take care of. I will be here when you wake up, I promise, love.” Alastor’s hand glows a dim green, he places it on your forehead.

And just like that, exhaustion takes over your mind and body. And you gave into slumber.

Alastor’s soft smile turned twisted as he makes his way back to the club.

Alastor wasted no time finding the scumbag who drugged you. And made quite the scene as he dragged him out of the club by the neck with his inky tendrils.

The broadcast sent out that day was one of his favorites. Alastor took his time as he tore that bastard limb from limb, slowly remove each non-vital organ, making sure he felt every moment of it as his life slowly slipped away.

Before death could claim him, Alastor slowly ripped his heart out and made that man watch as he ate it. Alastor was sure not to waste any of him after he died. He’d have to find an amazing new recipe to make his putrid body taste somewhat decent.

Alastor, after cleaning himself up, made his way back to his room. Just in time for you to wake up. You yawned and rubbed at your eyes. “Alastor? How’d I get here? Aw man, did I get wasted?” You sighed.

Alastor chuckled as he approached you. “Don’t worry my dear. I made sure everything was taken care of.” He sat next to you. “How are you feeling?”

You shrug. “Exhausted.” Alastor wraps an arm around you. “Well, you’re more than welcome to relax with me. I just had quite the meal, and I could use some rest.”

“Find another deer?” You question as you snuggle up to him. Alastor grins. “I wish. Might have been more pleasant.”

“Another unfortunate soul then?” You ask. “That’s it.” Alastor nods. “But enough of that.” He lays back, taking you with him. “Let’s just get some well deserved sleep.”

Alastor strokes your head gently, holding you protectively in his arms. That will be the last time anyone tries to use those horrid potions on you again. Not unless they want their souls ripped to shreds.

[kirain]

I don't get people who say Gale just whines about Mystra all the time. Like do they not realize WHY? Do they not realize there's a perfectly understandable reason for it!?!

Yeah, I don't get it either. Every character "whines" about someone. Astarion whines about Cazador, especially during the second and third act. Lae'zel whines about pleasing Vlaakith, especially during the Crèche mission. Hell, she'll even betray you if you fail her persuasion checks. Shadowheart whines about Shar and snaps at you if you criticize her goddesses of darkness. Then, if you prove she's being used, she falls into a deep depression and still whines about Shar. Wyll whines about Mizora and she's a constant presence in his life, to the point that she'll park her abusive ass directly in your camp just to torment him. If you romance him, she sees everything. She watches you 👀. He has no privacy. I think Karlach might be the only companion who doesn't constantly whine about someone, but she does complain about her engine a lot.

But these aren't criticisms. They're absolutely, 100% justified. Astarion has every right to whine. Lae'zel has every right to whine. They all have every right to whine. I just want to emphasise the hypocrisy when it comes to how players judge Gale. Every character has a dark past looming over them, our chatty wizard included. If you get mad at him, it's only fair to keep the same energy for all the other companions, because they're in the exact same situation. They're trapped. They're victims. They're suffering. Of course it's going to be a major talking point, especially when there's a person/goddesses/devil responsible for that pain.

Honestly, I think the only people who get annoyed when Gale talks about Mystra are would-be romancers who get turned off when he doesn't immediately throw himself at their Tav's feet. Have you seen the somewhat viral video where a streamer drools over him, but goes full jealous mode when she sees him conjuring the image of Mystra in his palm? It's funny, but she acted like they were already a couple ... but at that point in the game Gale didn't even know she was interested! I'm certainly no expert, but isn't that how relationships work? It's pretty hard to find someone who doesn't have an ex, and he only talks about Mystra in a positive light before you express interest. He's insecure and he feels lost without her, but if you romance him it makes him realise how messed up their "relationship" was in the first place. It's a healing process, not a competition. He never compares you to Mystra in any way other than to say that you're better, and that's only if you ask.

Gale is also arguably the most romantic character out of the bunch, so I don't know why people get so upset. Mystra, much like Shar, Cazador, Mizora, etc., is a constant negative in Gale's life and the reason he's dying. She could remove the orb with ease but she won't, so of course he's going to "whine" about her. He feels guilty at first, then he feels used and angry, and by the end you can either convince him to become her Chosen again (which is entirely on you, though you remain his priority) or you can convince him to reject Mystra and leave the crown in the sea. The orb remains lodged in his chest, because Mystra's too petty to remove it, but it becomes completely inert. Either way, he's happy and he devotes himself entirely to you, not Mystra.

[doublel27]

Okay, so fresh Wandee Goodday theory coming through.

I know we all thought Yak was going to be the one who knew he fell first, because he’s in so deep, but after Ep 4, I’m not so sure.

One, Dee has Plakao to be his voice of reason and is already admitting to Kao that he’s jealous of Yak’s crush and Kao is making observations like this.

Conversely, when confronted by Cher about his feelings for Dee through the evidence of giving away his prized name necklace and effectively claiming Dee, Yak denies it by saying that Cher already knows who Yak has feelings for and when pushed says this:

Which, the phrasing of “I’m not someone who changes his mind easily.” Is a really interesting denial. Because he’s affirming his commitment to his feelings for Taem. That just because he has Dee and they’re close doesn’t mean he’s going to change his mind or his feelings.

And it got me thinking of some other bits of nuggets we got about the Phadetseuk family.

His mom opened the gym and when asked about his parents Yak makes the saddest faces.

We now know thanks to the cold shower that was this week’s cold open that their mother died. But that leaves us with the question of where is their dad. Because my sweetest boys were alone at the hospital.

And their dad wasn’t there. Now maybe something happened to their dad, but there is an actor listed for Yei and Yak’s father and step mother.

Which made me speculate that perhaps there’s a reason that Yak is committed to not changing his feelings for Taem. Perhaps his determination to not be a person who changes his mind easily is tied to their father leaving their mother for their step-mother. And the concept of being like his father, someone whose feelings change easily, and can leave someone they care for, is not something Yak would want.

And I wonder, if this is true (and I could be wrong) how long Yak will hold on to his feelings for Taem even though she does not return them and how committed he will be to becoming a different person so that she might like him when Dee likes him exactly as he is.

Definitely curious if part of his feelings for Taem are tied to her helping him study and how his mom sat and encouraged him. Dee filled a bit of that function this week and it was a beautiful parallel but Taem has been doing it longer.

And don’t get me wrong, Dee is gonna have his own issues. He’s a hopeless romantic who definitely is not always the most reliable narrator, but he’s coming around. Still waiting to learn more about his parents car accident and how that’s left him desperately wanting someone to care for him.

These two are delightful and well fleshed out characters. I cannot wait to watch them continue to stumble through this fake dating disaster they’ve created.

[tealvenetianmask]

Thoughts about Striker being a "supremacist:"

On the surface, he's sort of a social class activist/ Robin Hood archetype. I think he truly thinks of himself this way. But when Blitz calls him a supremacist, who's he a supremacist against exactly? It's imps. This guy hates imps (and also identifies as one, even though he's clearly some sort of hybrid, which is interesting).

Let me show you what I mean. The short version is that he's the self-hating minority bigot trope, and it's executed really well.

"Blue Bloods"

"Disgusting, rich, pompous goetia"

"Some of us have everything we care about taken away by fuckers like you."

"You don't get to talk over me. . . all you ever do is try to talk over us."

"Once I split your neck open and let you choke on your own blue blood, you won't be worth any more than the tomb stone you'll be buried under."

So . . . first, he doesn't actually say a lot that's solely about royals, and ALL of the quotes above are about how royals look down on people like him, NOT about any inherent flaws that they have. They're about class, not race, unless you count "blue blood" as race. I don't. It's tied directly to money. "Disgusting" comes up in reference to Blitz's relationship with Stolas, but the words "rich" and "pompous" follow immediately. Striker hates royals because he hates that society places them above him.

Imps

"Pathetic."

"You little things aint worth the cleanup."

"Oh I remember how easy you are to choke the life out of, little one."

"Blitz, come on. You know the two of us are superior to most of our kind."

"I still think it's embarrassing. You're wasting a lot of potential relying on a weak little . . ."

"Vermin"

I think that this is where Striker's worldview comes into clearer focus. He thinks that Moxxie and Millie (and by extension MOST imps) are inferior to him. The word "vermin" is particularly telling. There's something visceral about his disgust for "lesser" imps.

I think Striker worries that they reflect who he really is. I think he truly believes that imps are inferior to higher class demons, and he fears that if he doesn't prove himself to be special (through violent dominance), he's vermin himself.

Notice how in the image below, his edge over Moxxie is all about size and physical strength- the things he implies throughout the episode make him the superior being. Look at that wide smile. He loves the feeling of being superior.

Relationships between imps and royals

"You are so above sucking on a disgusting rich pompous goetia . . ."

"kill the unkillable . . . starting with the one that treats you like a plaything."

"Blitzy"

"You two are both embarrassments to our kind for meddlin' with blue bloods to begin with. But at least loud mouth here has the sense to only fuck his rich bitch, instead of being a little purse dog."

"This worthless little pet reeks of his over bloated master. I'll at least enjoy getting rid of him."

Striker clearly sees these relationships as imps lowering themselves. It doesn't seem to occur to him even for a moment that these relationships might involve genuine care because he sees all interactions between social classes as being about power and "who wins."

Notice that despite in theory caring about the power dynamics, Striker puts most of his shaming language on the imps in the relationships, and uses demeaning language to do it- "embarrassments, purse dog, little pet," as if they're at fault (for being used, in his view . . .?) and should be ashamed.

I thought about delving more into why Striker sees Blitz as closer to his own level, and I think it comes down to the things he values (physical strength, willingness to kill, detachment/independence), which are not the things that we the audience end up liking the most about Blitz. He misses the point of what actually makes our boy great, basically. 😍

I've spent a lot of time reading and watching videos about real life white supremacists because I like to be miserable, and . . . yeah, this character really shares their view that some people are inferior to others, and that the traits that make them inferior are inherent and immutable. The people he hates just aren't the ones he'd have us believe he hates.

[uniquexusposts]

The politician's daughter (2)

Main characters: James Beaufort x reader Genre: fanfiction, fluff, TV show  Word count: 3335 Requested by: @marjoriesemente Note: there will be a third part because the ideas keep on coming into my head :))

Summary: the first house party for Y/N, how will that end up?

Click here to go to part 1

One week later, Y/N and Amelia were invited to a house party. It was a girl from their class who happened to share the details, so Y/N and Amelia, being curious, showed up to see what was happening. They heard so many different stories about it that they didn’t know what to believe or expect. They arrived at Wren’s house, the thumping bass and laughter spilling into the night air. The mansion was lit up with twinkling lights, and the sound of people enjoying themselves filled the atmosphere. As they walked up the driveway, passing some of the most expensive cars and their chauffeurs, Amelia glanced at Y/N with a grin. 

“You ready for this?” Amelia asked, excitement in her eyes. 

Y/N smiled back. “Absolutely. You have been to this before, right?” 

“Yeah, a couple of times,” Amelia said and pushed open the door. 

They stepped inside, immediately greeted by the warmth and energy of the part. The living room was packed with students, some dancing, others chatting in groups. The kitchen island was covered with various drinks and snacks, and the air smelled faintly of perfume and cologne, mingled with the scent of various beverages. 

The smell of the rich and expensive. 

Amelia led Y/N through the crowd, introducing her to a few familiar faces. Y/N looked around and recognised Wren, who was holding court in the centre of a group, his infectious laughter rising above the music. These people were so different from where she came from… Y/N ignored it and looked back at her group of people. They grabbed drinks and started dancing in the living room. The music was loud, and the rhythm infectious. Y/N found herself letting go, swaying to the beat and laughing with Amelia as they moved to the music. 

Unbeknownst to them, James stood on the other side of the room, leaning against a wall with a drink in his hand. His eyes followed Y/N as she danced, and his frown was on his face. He watched her interact with the others, her laugh genuine and carefree. It was a side of her he hadn’t seen before, and it intrigued him. Just like her outfit, he first saw her in clothes other than the school uniform. She was wearing straight-legged trousers; he couldn’t tell what colour they were, but they looked cherry red. And it looked like it was leather. She wore a black top, and her hair perfectly framed her face. 

Cyril nudged James with his elbow, a knowing smirk on his face. “She is interesting, huh?” 

James rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. “Just making sure she’s not causing any trouble.”

“Right,” Cyril said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Because she’s such a troublemaker.”

James ignored Cyril’s comment and took another sip of his drink, his gaze still fixed on Y/N. He watched as she threw her head back in laughter at something someone said to her, her eyes sparkling with joy. There was something magnetic about her, something that drew people in, and it was clear she was fitting in effortlessly. Yet she was an outsider. 

The next song came on and everybody seemed to enjoy singing along; Locked Out Of Heaven by Bruno Mars. His eyes were fixated on Y/N; she was singling along unashamed with her friends. At some point, her group became the main show to watch as they seemed to have the most fun of all. It wasn’t annoying; people enjoyed seeing them so passionately. Y/N’s eyes briefly met James’ and he left like all the air got squeezed out of his lungs. 

The Y/N effect. 

As the night wore on, Y/N and Amelia took a break from dancing and headed to the backyard, where people stood around the pool, chatting and dancing. Y/N sat down on a pool bed while Amelia was getting some drinks. 

Just then, James appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. He approached Y/N, his eyes locking while he walked over to her. 

“Mind if I join?” He asked, his tone casual. 

Y/N raised her eyebrows, being impressed by his behaviour. “Even if I said no, you still would sit here,” she mumbled under her breath. 

James wanted to sigh out of frustration, but he held it back. He sat down next to her. They sat there in silence, both looking in front of them. 

The reflection of the twinkling lights danced on the water, creating a serene backdrop for the tension between them. The distant sounds of laughter and music from the party filled the air around them, but they felt like they were in their own little bubble of quiet tension.

After a moment, Y/N broke the silence. “So, what is your deal?”

James glanced at her, his eyebrows lowered and squinting his eyes slightly. “My deal?”

“Yeah,” she replied, turning slightly to face him. “What’s your deal? During class you don’t even bother to show me around, like a buddy is supposed to do. And suddenly, you’re sitting next to me at a party.”

He let out a low chuckle, more of a sigh than a laugh. “My deal? I don’t owe you any explanations. If I felt like sitting here, than I sat here. Simple as that.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched, irritation flickering in her eyes. “Well, lucky me,” she sighed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I must be so honoured to have your charming company.”

“Believe me,” he replied, his smirk widening into a sneer. “The feeling is not mutual.”

The tension between them crackled in the air, thick and suffocating. Y/N felt her temper flaring, but she bit back her retort, not wanting to satisfy him.

They sat in silence, the distant sounds of the party serving as a stark contrast to the hostility between them. Y/N’s mind raced, trying to devise a way to diffuse the situation or at least escape it.

“So,” James spoke up, breaking the silence. “What’s the deal with you, huh? Why are you even here?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, refusing to let him see how much his words stung. “I could ask you the same thing,” she shot back, her voice dripping with disdain. “What, did your ego need stroking or something?”

James chuckled, a dark, humourless sound. “Please,” he replied, his tone mocking. “I don’t need anyone to stroke my ego.” He looked at her. “But can I at least offer you a drink now we’re mocking around?”

“No, thanks,” she replied. 

“Wine, beer…” 

“No, thank you.”

“Anything else?” 

Y/N sighed loudly, turning to him. “I don’t drink. Besides, I don’t want to be served by you.”

“Oh, you are the driver, I see. Where is your chauffeur from daddy?” James said, his smirk growing wider. 

Y/N licked her lips and scanned his face; there was something she liked about snapping towards him. Maybe because she disliked him, it made it easier to shoot back at comments he made. “I did not drink yesterday, I do not drink today and I will not drink tomorrow.”

“Scared of a public scandal?” James smirked, referring to his scandals within the family that got publicly. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Y/N faked a smile on her face. “Trauma,” she mentioned cynically. “Brother who almost died because of alcohol poisoning.” 

James’ face straightened, and he parted his lips. He did not see this coming, and he immediately regretted saying it. His eyes followed her when she got up. 

“It’s the most dangerous thing to ever make assumptions about people, James. Enjoy your night,” she professionally smiled and walked away from him. 

As Y/N walked away, James watched her, a mix of regret and curiosity flickering in his eyes. He hadn’t expected that response, and it left him unsettled. Maybe he didn’t know her after all. She looked like a girl who was an open book, but he was wrong. She wasn’t just the daughter of a politician; there was more beneath the surface.

* * * 

Y/N walked off the stairs in her house when she heard the doorbell ring. She immediately looked at the time on her phone: who could this be? She expected to be home alone all day since her mum was out of town with friends and her brother was cycling with his friends. Wondering, she walked to the front door and opened the door. 

“James Beaufort.” She blinked, genuinely surprised. “What are you doing here?” Before he could answer, she asked him another question. “How do you know I live here?” 

“Have you started the project yet?” James asked, putting his hands casually in the pockets of his trousers. 

Y/N squeezed her eyebrows together. At the beginning of this week, they got paired up for a project that needed to be finished on Monday. In two days. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Have you?” 

“No.”

She sighed and looked away. “That’s why I didn’t start on it either. Did you really think I would do this project on my own and let you benefit from it?” 

“That is why I’m here, Y/N L/N,” James amusingly smiled. “You’ve got time today?” 

Y/N hesitated, then stepped aside. “Come in, I guess.” 

James walked in, glancing around the small hall. The house was semi-detached, completely renovated and quite large for this type of house. If he was honest, he expected more. He expected a home that reflected the wealth and status of Y/N’s family. This wasn’t how Maxton Hall students lived. Y/N led him to the living room, where the sunlight streamed through the patio doors. 

“Expected more?” Y/N smirked and stood in the middle of the living room. James only looked at her. “How’s the hangover? Or are you still drunk to think that this is a great idea?”

James chuckled, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “No hangover, and no, I'm not drunk. Just determined to get this project done. But thanks for your concern.” He showed a forced smile. “I figured we should actually get the project done, and it’s better if we work on it together.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You mean it’s better if I do the work and you take credit?”

He had a slight smirk playing on his lips. “I’m here, aren’t I? That means I’m willing to put in the effort.”

She slowly nodded. “Alright then,” she breathed. “Let’s set up the table outside; the weather is nice.” She opened the two patio doors, letting the outside in on the house.

The fresh air and the soft sounds of birds chirping filled the living room. Y/N walked outside and grabbed the cushions from the shed. She put them on the chairs and put a tablecloth over the wooden table. James stepped outside and looked at the garden. Again, it was small, but it was cosy. There was a small field of grass, many flowers, and a tree. It was a well-maintained garden. 

“Take a seat,” Y/N invited him. “Can I get you a coffee or something else?” A small smile peaked through her stubborn look. 

“A coffee, please,” he replied and sat down on a chair. 

“Black, cappuccino, iced?” 

James looked at her after he had taken a moment to appreciate the serene surroundings. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt and linen shorts. Her hair was up in a claw clip. No makeup on her face. Then his eyes fell on the massive blue bruise on her thigh. “Whatever you have,” he said, still looking at the bruise. “What happened there?” 

“Fell off my bike. Braked too late and slid off my bike,” she briefly mentioned. 

James watched as Y/N disappeared into the house, still thinking about the bruise. It didn't quite fit his image of her: controlled, composed, almost untouchable. He shook his head slightly, leaning back in his chair and letting his eyes roam over the garden again. Despite its small size, it was inviting, a little oasis of calm.

Y/N returned a few minutes later with two glasses of coffee. She handed one to James, who took it with a nod of thanks. “Iced cappuccino,” she said and walked back inside again. She brought some snacks and glasses of water to the table. Once she settled into the chair opposite him, she opened her laptop. “The project.”

“Yeah. We have to set up a fictional company. Any ideas?” 

“I don’t want a clothing brand or something with politics-related stuff.”

“Noted.”

It was silence. They both were thinking about company ideas. While they were thinking, the birds chirped around. 

“Technology?” James proposed. 

“Hmm, I don’t know. Perhaps…” Y/N took a deep breath. “I would say makeup, but no.”

“If you want to do makeup, we can make it work.”

“Hmm, no.”

It went on for almost thirty minutes. They exchanged ideas ranging from eco-friendly products to various services, but none seemed to stick. Each time one of them felt convinced about an idea, they struggled to back it up with a solid plan.

James was fidgeting with a pen and sat slumped on the chair. “The first thing that comes to your mind,” he said, bored and pointed at Y/N. “Three… Two… One… Go, say it.”

Instant panic flickered through her eyes. “Uh… Coffee!” They looked at each other. “It’s the first thing that came to my mind,” Y/N shrugged. 

“Uhu, not judging you,” he replied, putting his hands up in the air. “And what about coffee?”

She blew her cheeks up. “A subscription box?” Y/N sat up and straightened her back. “Honestly, I would love to have a subscription because then I would never run out of coffee. And if there’s a physical store and I only have to scan my subscription for a coffee and bill afterwards, the world would be a lot better.”

“Are you addicted to coffee?” He tilted his head, and a smile played on his lips. 

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows. 

“No, for real. I drink one coffee a day, not more.”

“If you say so.”

As they brainstormed and exchanged ideas, the initial tension between them seemed to fade. They found themselves working well together, their ideas complementing each other’s. The conversation flowed naturally, punctuated by the occasional joke or sarcastic comment.

While they were working on the plan, a woman entered the house. Y/N didn’t look up at it, but James couldn’t help but steal a glance. It could be Y/N’s mother. When he saw the woman nearing the backyard, he quickly looked back at the laptop. 

“Good afternoon,” the woman greeted the two students. 

“Hey, mum,” Y/N smiled warmly when she saw her mother entering the garden. “How was your day?” 

“Perfect, couldn’t imagine a better day for afternoon tea,” Y/N’s mother replied. Her eyes shifted to James. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Y/N’s mother.”

James stood up politely and extended his hand. “James Beaufort, nice to meet you, Mrs. L/N.”

She shook his hand, a pleasant smile on her face. “Nice to meet you too, James. Beaufort? From the clothing brand?” She squinted her eyes. 

“Yes, that is right,” he nodded. 

“Ah, from the school uniform. And your dad has suits from Beaufort as well,” Y/N’s mother said to Y/N. “Anyway, I won’t disturb you two anymore,” she smiled. “But let me know if you need anything.” 

“Thank you, Mum,” Y/N replied, her smile still in place as her mother left the garden.

As her mother stepped back inside the house, James could hear her mumble that she wanted to take the scarf off her head. He watched her remove the scarf from her head, and his jaw dropped. His eyes quickly met Y/N’s eyes. 

“Do you mind me asking…” James began, his voice trailing off.

Y/N looked questioningly at him, but then realised her mother had removed her scarf. “Cancer,” she answered. “But she beat it. She’s still recovering.”

James’s expression softened, a flicker of empathy crossing his features. “I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t know.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze steady. “It’s okay. She’s a fighter. It’s been tough, but we’re getting through it.”

James was silent for a moment, absorbing the weight of her words. It was a side of Y/N he hadn’t seen before, a glimpse into her challenges outside of school. He felt a pang of guilt for the way he had treated her, the assumptions he had made. 

Just a few moments after that, Y/N’s brother entered the garden from the back. He looked like a professional cyclist, wearing tight cycling gear and a helmet tucked under his arm. Y/N’s brother introduced himself to James and greeted Y/N, quickly sharing his cycling journey of the day. 

Y/N slightly blushed. “Sorry, it’s always a bit chaotic when everybody gets home.”

The corners of James’ lips curled up. “Don’t worry. It’s different. My house is usually pretty quiet. When is your dad coming home?”

“Not,” Y/N mumbled, looking down. “He doesn’t live with us anymore. He lives in London.”

“Oh.” 

“He had always been working in the politics. When I was ten years old, he became a minister. Two years ago, he became the vice president. My mum got cancer at the same time. My brother the alcohol poisoning. It didn’t work. So a month ago, when my mum got cancer-free, they decided to separate for now. My mum, my brother and I moved here; my dad has a career in London, and yeah, that’s life,” she shrugged, keeping her tone casual. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered. James felt a pang of guilt for his earlier comments. He had been quick to judge her life based on surface impressions. “I’m sorry I called your mother with your last name. I…”

“It’s fine. They are separated, not divorced. Everything is under my dad’s last name. Don’t worry about it,” she smiled. 

An awkward silence settled between them. James could sense there was more to Y/N’s story than she let on, but he didn’t want to pry further.

“Anyway, the company,” Y/N said, switching the subject. 

Hours passed as they worked side by side, bouncing ideas off each other and gradually shaping their project into something they were both proud of. James felt a genuine sense of collaboration and understanding with Y/N for the first time. It was a refreshing change from the tension that had defined their previous interactions.

When they finally wrapped up their brainstorming session, Y/N stretched and looked at James with a satisfied smile. “I think we’ve got a solid plan. Thanks for coming over and working on this with me.”

James returned her smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “Yeah, we make a pretty good team. Who would have thought?”

Y/N chuckled softly. “Certainly not me.”

As James prepared to leave, he glanced around the garden once more, appreciating the tranquillity it offered. “You have a nice home, Y/N. It’s... cosy.”

“Thanks,” she replied, her tone sincere. “And thanks for understanding.”

James nodded, a newfound respect for Y/N settling in. “If you have time, we can meet up tomorrow? For the presentation and the finishing touches?”

“Sounds like a plan.

“At mine? Twelve o’clock?”

“Sure, see you tomorrow. And send me your address; unfortunately, I don’t have my ways,” she smiled. 

“I will,” he smirked. 

As he walked away, James couldn’t help but feel that this project had given him more than just a grade—it had given him a glimpse into Y/N’s world, and a chance to reevaluate his own judgments and assumptions. 

Click here to go to part 3

[myfairstarlight]

An Ode To Friends to Lovers - Colin and Penelope's story

Fine, I give in.

As someone who considers themself more of a casual viewer (as in, I've never engaged in the fandom before), I went into this new season with mild interest. And then I fell down the rabbit hole. I should have suspected it though, Friends to Lovers is a trope I affectionate particularly when it comes to romance, unfortunately one I very rarely think is done well. So I was still skeptical going in.

But by God, did they deliver on that front and I need to break it down and talk about it. So I guess this is my review of Bridgerton s3, part 1.

Under the cut though, because this is gonna be a long one (seriously, this is a warning).

I don't particularly think Bridgerton is a complex show, and one can argue all day about whether it is even good (in my eyes, as long as it's entertaining, I don't care if a show is "good"), however, the number of takes I've seen online not understanding basic story-telling worries me a bit.

Don't get me wrong, I agree this first half has pacing issues but I do not think Penelope's and Colin's love story suffered that much, it did not feel rushed to me since we already knew these characters for two whole seasons (and I maintain Colin has always had more depths than what people pretend he does, it seems like, just like the ton, viewers like to overlook him and just characterise him as naive).

And I guess this long ass post was born in the process. So:

Part One: Penelope's glow up

Yes I'm starting by looking at them individually first. I think this post on reddit sums it up so perfectly. I get we're all joking about how unrealistic it is that no man was ever interested in Penelope despite how she looks like an absolute goddess (and I maintain she was the cutest in both previous seasons as well!) - unfortunately it is realistic. That's the reality of bullying, it doesn't get solved by a glow up. Even her association with the Bridgertons through Eloise and Colin did not lessen the bullying, so without them? Even the prettiest dresses would not have changed the ton's perception of her, and she's still the awkward, anxious girl she's always been, and unfortunately, most of these men are not attracted to that. It's not satisfying, she doesn't get her triumphant revenge on a society that always ostracised her - and I think it's important that she does not. That she accepts it. She should not have to change for a ton that will not change for the better either. And it's a lesson she learns quickly - someone will love her for who she is, pretending will only lead to misery. And, it is when she's being herself that she successfully gets the interest of some gentlemen (shout out to Lord Remington! I was so hoping we would be seeing more of him on top of Debling. He's such a Whistledown fan I thought that even after the whole lesson reveal scandal he would have stuck to call on Penelope the next day to gossip together, it would have been cute but I guess he too wanted to avoid being written about) (also I'm just saying in fics he should be the one considered as a proper other suitor for Pen since they seemed to have a genuine connection, meanwhile Debling was really searching for practicality).

The thing I wanna add to that post is this: despite all that, she decided to change her looks for herself. When I first learned of the plot of this season, Colin helping her find a husband, I was scared it would mean Colin would be the one to tell her to have a makeover. It doesn't happen. Sure, Penelope subconsciously requests for a more Parisian style for her new dresses because it is the last place Colin went to, but by that point she has already given up on him. She wants something new, and to feel good in herself. That's how she blooms, by finding a style that she feels comfortable in, finally free from her mother's horrendous tastes. That's what allows her to be more confident as well, the new looks and her motivation to move on from her "unrequited fantasy". As for Colin? He never comments on her change, he compliments her dress (and mind you, that is when he's trying to play up the charm because he knows she's upset with him and he gets humbled, hard) but he never says it looks better on her than what she wore before, he never has a "I never realised how beautiful you were" moment we see a bit too often in friends to lovers stories, because to him she's still his Pen, new dresses, new hairstyles, but the same Pen he's always loved, even if he didn't realise to what extent yet.

But Penelope's confidence... is not quite there yet. Difficult to be, when she's grown up in a loveless home, with horrible sisters, a father who barely cared and a mother who constantly puts her down. Whenever she gets a compliment, her first reaction is "ah, it must be a joke" - that isn't even exclusive to Colin, in the brief interaction between Edwina and Penelope, when Edwina compliments her dress, Penelope also dismisses it. And then, there's Colin, who is always oh so honest with her and does not shy away from praising her. But I'll touch more on that later.

Part Two: Colin's new self.

And then we have the opposite: Colin showing up with a new attitude, and succeeding at it (well, on the surface). Something I haven't seen people bring up a lot though is that he's already tried a new look in s2, and he got mocked for it. The only one who didn't? Penelope. Why didn't he try to emulate being a rake back then? Because Penelope's letters grounded him, he admits it himself. It's seeing himself through Penelope's letters that gave him confidence. But that kind of confidence was not enough in the ton's eyes, and on top of that, between s2 and s3, this time Penelope doesn't write back, and neither do his family. He grows insecure, he's lost the one person who kept him grounded, he thinks his family is annoyed with him, and he still is in search of a purpose, so what does he do? He clings to Anthony's words in s1 after the disaster that was his engagement with Marina: he's too green, time to "fix" that and be more like his big brothers. They got it together, they know their purpose (well, Benedict lost his again but that's a story for another day), so surely, if he acts more like them, and not like the sensitive and naive boy he was, then surely everything will be alright! Right? Note that as opposed to s2, where he kept talking about his travels and it annoyed everyone, in s3 he doesn't go into details about them anymore, even when he's asked. They're only interested in the company he kept during the travels rather than the sights he saw. And honestly, it was heartbreaking to see right away how much of himself he was holding back, even with his own family. Penelope, however, gets the details without even asking because he already knows she likes hearing him talk about them and she makes him comfortable, and he's fully aware of that when he apologises in s3e1.

(I also want to note that, even if this new persona is fake, his new style genuinely fits him better. Just like Penelope, this season Colin found the style that makes him feel good and confident.)

And here's where I need to praise Luke's acting for a bit, because he absolutely nailed the subtle way Colin behaves differently with Penelope vs everyone else. His voice is softer, he is effortlessly charming (I was kicking my feet when he recalled how they met), his smile is bigger, even his whole face looks more relaxed whenever Penelope is around, meanwhile he always appears stiff and like he's calculating his every move when around his "friends". In fact, it is in the carriage scene we finally truly see s1&2's Colin back. When he has that look on his face, as he decides right there and then he's gonna marry her, and then a second later when he asks the question, his face. By God, his eyes are sparkling, he's so happy, and he looks as youthful and carefree as he did in previous seasons, far are the thoughts of trying to fit in a society that he hates.

Because above all, these two know and understand each other in a way no one else in their lives does. And that is a fact that remains despite the outward changes. So yes, I liked that their dynamic did not shift to romance because of their "glow ups", but because they are spending even more time together now. Speaking of which:

Part Three: Authenticity and Vulnerability

One big theme this season is being true to oneself. It's no coincidence mirrors are such a big part of it (even outside of the yet to be seen spicy scene), because looking at a mirror means looking at oneself, and be vulnerable. If s2 was about duty vs heart, eldest siblings trying to do right by their family to the point of self-sabotage, s3 is a battle between the head and the heart. It is not even exclusive to Polin - Eloise is learning and growing by trying to take genuine part in society but struggling to fit in. Cressida wants to become a better person, torn between the pressure put on her shoulders by her parents and this new friendship with Eloise. Benedict is looking for his purpose after learning Anthony paid his way to art school, and feeling like a fraud as an artist. Anthony and Kate are unashamedly in love, as they deserve to be after the struggles they went through last season. Francesca has no care for the suitors the Queen and her mother parade in front of her as the "sparkler" of the season (sidenote but I hated that, stupid name, should have stuck to diamond or select another gem) as her heart seeks out the handsome and quiet John Sterling instead. And this will continue in part 2, as Penelope will have to be honest about Lady Whistledown (because she's always her most authentic self around Colin, there is still this big secret she is so determined to keep to herself, when she should not).

The beauty about friends to lovers stories to me is the small declarations of love sprinkled throughout the relationship. It's about the trust already built in with no expectations and the vulnerability we'd never allow anyone but our closest friends to see, something even our family can be ignorant to. I mentioned earlier that Colin never shies away from praising Penelope, way before their dynamic shifts to lovers. He tells her she's good, constant, loyal, special, warm. All of these are declarations of love, even if not with romantic intent, it's about showing his appreciation for her, for the role she holds in his life. And Penelope responds in kind as well. That is why I believe people who think the romance was rushed in s3 either did not watch the past two seasons or see friendship and romantic love as two distinct things rather than a cohesive continuation of each other. In s1, people focus so much on the Marina stuff, as if that cancels out Colin's friendship with Penelope. We still do see Colin actively seek out Penelope at balls, and defending her against Cressida, he compliments her and tells her she's the one who inspired him to travel. Then s2 rolls in, and they're exchanging letters, which will become the cataclysm for their dynamic changing later on. And then there's one of my favourite scenes with them: them talking about their purpose. They both open up here, Colin about his insecurity, Penelope about her dream, it is so intimate. And then, there's of course Colin protecting the Featheringtons from ruins. I'm mostly emphasising Colin's actions, because Penelope's crush on him was always in your face, and while Colin may not have realised it yet, he's always cared about Penelope in a special way, as manifested by his actions and how vulnerable he allows himself to be around her, when even his own family has no idea about what's going on inside his head.

There's a misconception that Colin calling her his friend was him rejecting her, and yet we see in s3 he had no idea whatsoever that she has a crush on him, so he could not lead her on (unlike his book counterpart, who was aware of Penelope's infatuation and was careful never to toe the line until he realised his feelings. Show Colin though? Completely oblivious. And it makes sense, he's still young.) He asks Violet "how do you know it was reciprocated" and not "how do you know you're in love with your best friend". As of right now at the end of part 1, he genuinely thinks he's the one who fell in love first, or at least realised it first. His "You're Pen, you do not count, you're my friend" in s2, was not a rejection in his eyes, but a declaration of love; he's forsaken love and women but not his Penelope, never her, she's his exception And it's not like Penelope resented him for that friendship he so readily gave her, yes she had a crush, but she was proud to call him her friend! He was, with Eloise, her solace away from her family. At the end of the day, this is a friends to lovers story, it is silly to get upset that they considered themselves friends first before there is a click as they realise they are now on the same page to shift their relationship.

Side note but I've never liked the term "friendzoned" because it makes it sound like being friends is a bad thing. I've had unrequited feelings before but I've always felt grateful that being friends with them allowed me to stay close to them even if I knew nothing else could happen. I was still very much happy and content. But maybe I'm projecting on Penelope and that's another debate.

See, what I ended up loving about the lesson plot, which I was so wary of at first, is that Colin barely teaches Penelope anything. At first, he goes for the "do what society expects women to do" (since it worked for him) but then she acts awkwardly, she can't fake it, and it surprises him for a moment. That's when it clicks for him, she just needs to be comfortable because with him, she's always smart, witty and charming, she's herself. He's always seen her that way, and he did not quite realise he had that privilege in the first place. And I love how we see him slowly realise it is no longer a privilege thanks to his help. We see it in e2. When she talks to the guy with the dead horse (forgot his name, oops), Penelope forces the flirt and Colin is amused by it. Fast forward Penelope approaching Lord Remington by herself, without Colin's initiative, and she's being more authentic, and suddenly Jealous by Nick Jonas plays in the background and Colin doesn't look proud, but apprehensive, or dare I say jealous. The shift in Colin's head happens long before Debling is in the picture. I'd argue it already shifted earlier in that episode, in his study, which he flashbacks to in e4.

His journals detail how unfulfilled he feels when he lays with random women in his travels. He longs for emotional intimacy. And guess with who he finally finds that, when a certain red-head asks the one question that allows them to break the physical barrier they had to keep between them for the sake of propriety?

Ah yes, that first kiss. To Colin, everything has been building up to this, this is his true Oh moment. A favour turned into a revelation. For Penelope, this is quite literally the end of her fantasies. This is Penelope's most vulnerable moment. She bares her heart, she's sad, she's desperate. And some people have been calling that moment pathetic, interpreting it as her being weak and giving in to her crush again, saying that she should not have to beg for that man's affection. I concur that she is brave, and bold. I also concur that some of you all are a bit too attached to the girlboss archetype forgetting that allowing oneself to be vulnerable is also a strength. She's never had to beg for Colin's attention anyway because he readily gives it to her, but in this one instance, for once in her life, she is truly being honest. In her head, she has nothing else to lose, and she wants to experience the one thing she thinks she can never have so of course she's gonna turn to the one person she's always trusted and feels the most comfortable with, because before her crush, Colin is her friend. She's asking a favour from a friend. And then she can move on, whatever "moving on" will turn out to be. In this instance, she has the power in her hands.

And it is her bravery that is the true cataclysm for things to change properly. Of course, things have already started to change the moment she stopped replying to the letters, but that moment really expedited their relationship.

Part Four: Lovers, but in a best friends way

The thing with Bridgerton, in the books or in the show, is that each couple has their trope. This is not news to anyone, I think. We've had fake dating, and enemies to lovers, and one characteristic that these two tropes share is a growing tension between the characters before it snaps. There is a reason the early marketing for s3 focused on Penelope being cold towards Colin, tension and conflict are more appealing on the surface. And then the first half of the season comes out and that conflict between our main couple? Solved after one episode because they did one thing that is severely missing in most romance dramas: communicated healthily. Penelope laid out why she was upset (although she does not stay to let Colin explain and then vents out her feelings in Whistledown... she still has some learning to do), Colin immediately went to apologise and make up for it. All of this by talking. And yet I'd argue friends to lovers still has its own tension, just not to the same intensity as the other two, and more difficult to market. The tension comes from the brewing feelings, the way you start seeing every touch, every interaction, in a whole new light, and wondering if it's only in your head or if it's reciprocated. But now combine that with Colin who's always been so earnest about his feelings with Penelope? And Penelope who's always quietly wanted their relationship to evolve that way? Of course they figured it out quickly and got together in half a season. And I'm delighted that we will see them handle the whole Whistledown mess as a couple, as two people aware they love each other deeply, which gives a whole new meaning to the conflict compared to the book where I felt like it was brushed over a bit too quickly (because they got distracted in that carriage). It is the last secret between them, their last obstacle.

I also do not like the "Colin should have grovelled and pined more" argument, when he is the one who insisted on the lessons to help her find a husband in the first place, and then has to face the fact that actually, he doesn't like the idea of another man taking Penelope away, and oh, isn't that the consequences of his own actions? He is grovelling, you just don't see Penelope holding it over his head, because that's not the person she is, this is not a revenge fantasy story, in fact she does not realise the power she has on him because she is used to Colin seeking her out. I like that he didn't stew on his feelings and decided to act on them right away. I also don't like how this whole grovelling thing makes it sound like love is a competition, that just because Penelope has known she's been in love for longer and "suffered" longer, that means Colin needs to do the same to even the planes. Because in my eyes love isn't exactly something to be earned — it is given. Now, are you worthy to keep it? To nurture it and make it bloom and last? That is the real question.

Admittedly, since this is only the first half of the season, we do not see them in a romantic setting a lot. That first half is focused on them rekindling their friendship lost during the summer when Penelope stopped responding to the letters, and Colin having the realisation he cannot live without his best friend, not just because she is his best friend, but also because he loves her. But we do have two important, and obvious instances.

So let's talk about that first kiss again. It is, in my opinion, one of the most gentle and romantic moments in the show so far and also showcased their friendship really well. Colin trying to joke to lighten the mood as Penelope spirals down (peak best friend behaviour actually), the gentle, swelling music, the light of the moon, Colin's deep exhale of realisation as he holds her face when he goes back in for the second kiss, with the furrowed brows of a man on a mission. This is Penelope's most vulnerable moment and Colin's big realisation. And I felt like I was intruding.

And same goes for that carriage scene, but even before they go at it; now this is Colin's most vulnerable moment, and Penelope's realisation that they can be more. He chases the carriage by foot, then goes on his knees to confess his feelings to his best friend in the softest and most determined voice we've ever heard him use this whole season, eyes wide, tears threatening to fall as it is his turn to bare his heart and ask for a chance. Meanwhile Penelope takes it all in, running her hand through his hair because she can finally touch him, melting under him. Things get steamy. And then... and then... The carriage stops, they get startled, Colin jokes that the driver should have kept on driving and then... they laugh. They just made out, and went to second base together, and yet here they are now, laughing. It is such a genuine and lovely moment. And it's then that Colin has that look in his eyes, that "I'm gonna marry her" look. That is when he realises he cannot live his life without her. That his purpose is now right in front of him: making Penelope Featherington, soon to be Bridgerton, laugh until the end of their lives.

Conclusion

There's no conclusion, I just love them so dearly. Yes, there still is the whole Whistledown mess to deal with and sure, the argument with Eloise may make you think great angst is ahead but if there is one big difference between Colin and Eloise, it is this: Colin has always listened to Penelope, and this is not a diss on Eloise. Eloise, bless her heart, can be pretty self-centred, she's loud and a bit immature, something she is growing from in s3, and you cannot ignore that she did not really listen to Penelope (she has no idea Penelope wishes to marry when Penelope tells her she does in s1, we can blame the writing, but I do think it fits with Eloise's journey to realising how privileged and dismissive she is. Penelope was too polite to call her out until their falling out. Meanwhile Cressida is exactly the type of honesty she needs for a wake up call). Colin, on the other hand, is very sensitive and a good listener. Furthermore, this season, Penelope is learning to be more confident, to voice what she wants, and I like to think it is leading to her finding her own voice and not needing Whistledown to hide behind anymore. If there's someone with whom she has no filters, it is Colin, so I have faith that when the reveal happens and an argument breaks out, this new Penelope will not back down and will lay out all her reasons and all her regrets, and Colin may be stubborn, but he loves that woman and he always listens.

A part of me also wishes they keep the jealousy he felt about her writing in the book, and that they don't focus just on the whole "you lied to me" aspect (we've already had that with Eloise). How he, himself, is insecure about his writing, and here Penelope is, less fortunate than he is, and yet who did have the courage to get her writing out there, even if publishing under another name. Because that is also a reality in relationships, when your partner is at a different stage in their career, and how they can communicate to support one another.

Anyway, I'm just rambling now (as if that isn't what I've been doing this whole time). I like them. A little. Just a bit. I'm very normal about them <3

[waspredteeth]

you, batman/batfamily fan, can you be normal about parents and their flaws without making them exaggerated abusers?

can you absorb the fact that Jack and Janet Drake were not perfect parents, but they still loved Tim? and that Tim loved them enough that he tried to tear a razor sharp boomerang out of his father's corpse with his bare hands? that the Drakes were not millionaires who forced high society values onto their son for the sake of a public image? (that they weren't even rich for that long of a time?)

can you be normal about how the deep recesses of poverty affect a family unit while allowing a parent nuance? can you write Willis Todd without making him a classist caricature of an abuser? can you write Catherine Todd and Crystal Brown without portraying their drug addictions as fodder for their children's whump? (I added in Crystal bc she canonically suffered from drug addiction, but I haven't seen much of her in fics tbh)

can you accept that as much an abuser David Cain was, he still loved Cassandra enough that he utterly fell apart when she left him? That he was genuinely astonished/proud of her when she spoke to him for the first time even as she threatened him? he still sucks majorly, but you can't deny that he loved her. that's what makes their relationship so painful.

can you be normal about Talia al Ghul? can you write her without making her an ooc rapist or child abuser or cold dragon lady? can you acknowledge that every ounce of her characterization surrounding Damian is vastly different from her original pre-Morrison personality to the extent that og Talia would never even have a child in the League?

can you pick apart when a parents portrayal is out of character, that a writer made them hit or neglect their child because above all else they exist for drama and action? that you can find DC characters who actually had traumatic childhoods instead of grafting them onto a Bat-character? (> this last sentence is mostly about Tim btw)

Exploring a character's parents and how they affected them is always interesting, but I've seen fics that genuinely steer towards character assassination rather than an exploration of events written in the comics. They exaggerate a parent's portrayal not to write about a complicated parent-child dynamic but so they can have Bruce or Jason rushing in to comfort them (yes, this is about the Tim Drake shrimp fic). Idk, I think most of my ire just stems from the fact that content about Mia Dearden or Todd Rice or Grant Emerson aren't widespread, Mia specifically always gets explored in Bat-circles as someone that just adds to Jason's character rather than analyzing her on her own, in addition to the constant hell that Talia goes through a character in both canon and fanon.

[yandere-sins]

Okay so I feel a bit silly about this, but I just have to ask at some point. To keep it short, I wonder if Dr Ratio has already had his first time and if he even has sex often. I mean he is a grown adult at all. Don't see me as a horny Dr Ratio simp, I'm just interested and little things like that always make me like a character even more. I would be happy if you would answer this question :)♡

Why feel silly? We love all kinds of sexual status here, especially when it's someone as delicious as Ratio! Also, I appoint you simp from now on, because we should be simping for him (but don't be like me and have him in your team just for aesthetics bc my Ratio makes no damage at all! :D And that's okay... :'D)

As wonderful as our Doc is, this is a very open-to-interpretation question. You can honestly go both ways with him, and we'll never know because... he probably wouldn't even tell or show any signs to his darling how much experience he has once he gets with them ;)

Maybe he is a virgin and a very stoic and pathetic one at that. In his pursuit of making knowledge more accessible to every "idiot", there isn't much time for personal needs. I totally see him pass out from sleep deprivation despite being horny and then suppress his morning wood with a cold shower, even though he's really not happy about it. No one knows why he's so upset, but they all avoid him on mornings like that. There's no way he never put a hand on himself in all these years, but he won't know the blessing that comes when someone else does it, until he meets his darling.

It's an instant game over for him, Veritas unable to form a complete sentence when he first meets you, his cock springing up, precum staining his clothes. It threatens to burst out of his pants, hard and agitated and in desperate need to be treated to its first experience of intercourse. He tries to play it cool with a faint blush on his cheeks, tries his usual spiel of pretending he's better than you after catching his composure immediately, always gauging your reactions and wanting to see them to fuel his desire. All while completely hiding the fact that he wants to drop to his knees and hump your feet.

That night, jerking off is more like ripping off as he just can't stop the thoughts of you invading his mind and making him hard again and again. His whole bed is sullied, the tissue box empty, the Doctor is panting and blushing and immediately reminded of how plump and soft your lips were. Or your ass as you walked away from him. The sparkle in your eyes and the few exposed spots of skin in your outfit. And then his thoughts are going wild with you bent over on his bed, exposing yourself to him, your giggles and moans replaying in his ears, although he made all of them up. Honestly, he's a bit ashamed afterward for losing his composure quite like that.

It doesn't make him any less pathetic when he finally gets his hands on you. You might be fighting and hating him, but he tied you up exactly the way he needs so he can fuck your thighs or pry your pretty lips open to stuff your mouth with his thick cock. And you never disappoint him in that regard. You'll still be as amazing, making him cum almost instantly the first few times, after being with him for years. Ratio will still yearn for the warmth of your body around his dick decades down the line, and he'll greet you with the same enthusiasm (just more stamina and better technique) every time he comes home to you. You two really grow together; isn't that sweet? ;)

OR

Man's still stoic and pathetic, but not with all those partners he had over the years, oh no. It's really bothersome to him to actually let one of those groupies get a piece of his cake, and he doesn't do it because his mind wants to. But it's just normal to fulfill a need he has, right? Veritas doesn't bed some random person (who found him super hot and practically ogled him all evening) for pleasure or enjoyment. Even less for payment, though some people try to buy his time and affection.

In short, he's a miserable lover.

We should feel bad for the people thinking he's going to blow their minds. It's not like he hurts them or anything, but he does his thing and leaves, telling anyone who's confused and dissatisfied that he didn't enjoy it much, either. He got to finish; that's all that matters to him. He's really awful to these poor souls; we can't deny it.

But then he met you, and everything changed. You are constantly on his mind, the underside of his table stained with remnants of cum as he savagely had to jerk himself up to free his thoughts again. But it doesn't really help, and he imagines doing things with you on his table, books, honestly, everywhere. Ratio has to flee any function if someone there happens to have the same perfume as you because he cannot control himself once reminded of you. And in the bitterness of moaning your name in an empty room, his cock mangled and still hard despite previous jerk-off sessions, he decided he has to have you, just so he can get a remnant of himself back. 

He is reading up on how to be a better lover as he fingers you simultaneously, observing your reactions and even going down on you... for research, of course. No one knew he'd get drunk on bringing you pleasure. On learning that the reason you were feeling so damn good was his work. Sure, it boosts his ego, but you have no idea what it does to him to see your eyes dazed, your expression twisting. He teases you, but it gets him off quicker than anything else when you admit how good you feel. He'll be grinning from ear to ear the following day, remembering what you said, only to pretend he wasn't reveling in the memories when you catch him. He loves teasing you, kissing every part of your body while you squirm, knowing it turns him even more on than it does you. It's a good thing you need so much convincing, so he can satisfy his greed for you plenty before the real deal begins.

Suddenly, sex is so much more interesting when he does it with you, no matter how much you complain in the beginning—your moans say otherwise. You may hate him, but gods, does he love the look on your face when you're overstimulated, and Ratio is only getting started, making you arch your back as he plunges into you, your legs quivering around his head. Drawing out the act and letting you 'suffer' is so much more delicious and enjoyable than anything he had with another person before. He doesn't even wonder if it would have changed anything for his feelings had he done his research with the partners he fucked before. Only you can make his heart race, get him drunk on your juices, and look like an angel in his sheets covered in his cum. It's only you, it's only ever been you, and he'll never let that go.

Because no matter how much you simp for him, he'll always simp more for you ;)

[snivyartjpeg]

Yuma Month Day 26 - Role Swap

god i was excited for this one. it first started off as a joke, but the more i thought about it, the more interesting this swap became. so here's my massive lore dump of changes that'd happen in the story beneath the cut (spoiler warning):

i think, fundamentally, yuma and yakou are very similar characters. they're both very protective and kindhearted, with a strong sense of justice and a penchant for attracting terrible luck. because of this, some things would remain the same, such as the NDA's dynamics with their doormat chief as well amnesia!yakou's massive unpaid intern energy. i think yakou would be pretty similar to how he behaved in the light novel- a bit more optimistic and naive, like yuma. but there are two key differences between them that'd make this a different story, especially in ch 4: yuma has a forte, and yakou is very selfish. so here's some changes:

yakou's wife is his shinigami now, as you can see, while shinigami is yuma's dead wife. i think mrs furio would act cooler than shinigami. she'd still be playful, but she takes her job more seriously. also she hands yakou the solution keys normally without throwing up. they still have to do the dance and mouth sword thing tho. and the other stuff. that's just death god protocol

shinigami (or in this case the unnamed Mrs. Kokohead but i will still be calling her shinigami for convenience sake) was a scientist at amaterasu who studied forensics and thanatology instead of regenerative medicine. this also means that the pill she gives zombie yuma is not going to bring him back, but instead grant the zombie homunculi a peaceful, painless, but permanent death

speaking of zombie yuma, he's the homunculus now! yakou is 100% human and also doesnt have a forte. he's still number one, but instead of having a forte he's just that good at solving mysteries

yes this means makoto looks like yakou now. sorry makotoheads. i think he'd have really long, shaggy hair dyed to be like. idk. black or something. also he's more clean shaven bc stubble with a mask on is a sensory nightmare

yuma still cant cook. he subsists entirely on takeout, meat buns, black coffee, and beer. he's still in a lot of debt and under a lot of stress and his personality is essentially "what if canon number one just gave up"

he doesn't smoke though. he tried once and got into the worst coughing fit

imma say it right now. kurumi is not a love interest. yakou likely disguises himself as a faculty member instead (also i think one of the teachers gets a crush on fem yakou bc i just know she'd be hot)

ANYWAY what about chapter 4? im SO glad you asked! because here's where things get spicy!

so, lets start with the dead wife. shinigami catches onto huesca's inhumane research and she's just as adamant about bringing the truth to light as she always is. she blows the whistle, so he blows her up. yuma investigates, but they dont let him look any further, yada yada, yuma stews in his misery for five years

yomi sends in the evidence to motivate yuma to kill huesca, and makoto lets it happen because a dead huesca would be convenient. he even introduces the hitman, fully expecting yuma to make use of him

yuma doesnt. in fact, he wants to kill huesca with his own hands. and now that these detectives are here, he can do it and even return alive. the thing is, he doesn't want to put them in danger, so he chooses to do almost everything alone (sound familiar?)

his plan is simple:

ask desuhiko for a peacekeeper uniform. desuhiko trusts him enough to take "i want to investigate kanai ward's ultimate secret by infiltrating their ranks" as an answer. he does, however, let yakou know about this as an offhand comment before the mystery ever begins

hold fubuki's hand. it doesnt really matter how. she'll gladly allow it because she's fubuki. he stores her time powers and heads out the sub. yakou also learns this as an offhand comment played off as a joke (maybe fubuki affectionately comments about how she never expected the chief's hands to be so soft... idk. there has to be some way for yakou to have this as a future clue)

use his peacekeeper status to sneak into amaterasu HQ and demand a functioning ama-pal from that one creepy researcher

use ama-pal + fubuki's borrowed powers to bypass huesca's security. sneak the bot past the hard-of-hearing doctor and press the button to shut off security

this would probably alert huesca, but since the doctor never received a warning, yuma has enough time to rush in and stab him before he realizes what's going on

leave HQ while still in uniform, dispose of the disguise once he's safe, and return to the NDA like nothing happened. success!

soooo.... yakou, on that same day, decides to investigate amaterasu HQ with makoto

all the while, vivia has his suspicions about yuma's actions and keeps an eye on him in spectral mode. he... basically witnessed the whole thing, so he gets up off his ass and decides to follow yakou to the lab because he has a Very Bad Feeling about this

just like canon, he senses the death god and deduces that our protag has been killing off murderers, and so he wants to protect his chief as well as his peace and quiet (his dynamic with yuma would be the same as his dynamic with yakou, since it's entirely believable for yuma to treat vivia with the same kindness yakou did)

yakou tries to speak to huesca, but surprise! security is disabled and he's dead in the lab! no one else at amaterasu liked huesca enough to check on him, so yakou and makoto are the first ones at the scene of the crime. yakou, of course, decides to start investigating this murder

vivia somehow sneaks into the lab (dont ask me how) and confronts yakou, threatening him with his boxcutter and adamantly imploring him to stop pursuing this particular mystery in the same way he did yuma in canon. unfortunately, this attracts attention, and now they're in trouble (maybe even yomi's there to fetch his files). at this point, yakou has enough solution keys, so he panics and goes right into the labyrinth (and maybe others can enter for another reason that isnt coalescence idk)

so... they go in the labyrinth... vivia tries to stop him every step of the way, until the answer is right in front of them

yakou kills yuma with his own hands. there's no stab wounds or toxic gas to leave any doubt. yakou begins to question what good his justice really does. it doesnt even save them from their predicament, just like the other deaths. instead, makoto ex machina comes in to save them, and hands yakou a small black box

when they return to the agency, everyone is heartbroken over their chief, who seemingly died out of nowhere. fubuki tried rewinding time, but to no avail. halara tried everything to wake him up, knowing it's futile. desuhiko stood aside, feeling completely helpless. and yakou and vivia return looking like they just came back from hell

they barely get the chance for a funeral before the knockout gas trap activates... you know the rest

AAAAND SCENE! so that's my extremely long winded lore dump about this au. i thought about it Way Too Much but god it's so interesting to me. i love these characters and swapping them was immensely fun

[djarins-cyare]

Never Look Down

Part 1: Din’s Evening

Series Masterlist

Prompt: “I don’t know what’s happening but I love it.”

Summary: Din has been ignoring his crush on Grogu’s babysitter for a while now, with varying degrees of success. But after a misunderstanding leads to some revelations, there’s no denying things any longer. Sometimes you just need to look at things from a different perspective.

Rating: Mature (18+) with a smidge of explicit

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character (for his POV scenes) / Din Djarin x Reader (for her POV scenes)

Word count: 5,330

Tags/warnings: alcohol, drunkenness, vomit (no description), numerous references to erections, some swearing, references to sex, non-explicit smutty thots, Din carries OFC a short distance, masturbation (male, semi-explicit, but I don’t think enough to push up the rating), 3rd person POV (part 2 will be 2nd person POV and OFC will become reader/you).

Author’s note: This was originally supposed to be for @beskarandblasters’ Din Djarin Fic Club Drabble Event, although drabble this is not! Kel said there was no word limit, but it grew so long that I couldn’t even call it a one-shot anymore, so I’m uploading it in two parts to make it easier to read and I think that probably disqualifies it from the Drabble Event. But Kel, thank you so much anyway for the prompt – it resulted in me finally pushing through my writer’s block and finishing/uploading something new, so I’m eternally grateful!

READ ON AO3 (author’s preference)

Tumblr version ahead if you prefer…

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He’s panicking. It’s stupid, really – he’s been in situations far trickier and more critical than this. But Karga said he needed help urgently, and now his babysitter isn’t answering her comlink.

Should he just go and leave Grogu here? It’s not like he never left him alone on the ship.

Except… something’s changed since the adoption. Din has started to care what others think of his parenting style. He hears people whisper that fatherhood clearly isn’t coming easily to him (he thought he was doing alright). He watches how his babysitter closely monitors every move the kid makes (the Mandalorians never watched him that closely). He listens when people talk about how they raise their own children (he hadn’t realised it was such hard work). And it’s made him feel as if he’s… lacking.

He hates feeling less than adequate in any area of his life, but somehow, failing as a father cuts deep. Perhaps it’s because he grew up without one. Plus, that scolding Peli gave him after she found Grogu alone on the Razor Crest still haunts him.

Although the Mandalorian method of letting them learn from their mistakes has merit (and it never did him any harm), he wants to be there for his son. So, no. He won’t leave Grogu here alone. He can’t risk him waking up and wondering why nobody comes if he calls. The kid has probably had enough of that in his past.

Why isn’t Maia picking up?

Din paces the cabin’s length, listening to the gentle ping of the comlink as it tries to connect with the one he gave her. Even the soothing pulse doesn’t ease his frustration. Diligent parenting is hard.

Just as he’s wondering if he can wake the kid and bring him along, the comlink crackles to life.

“—know what the stinking stang is wrong with it! Ah, frotz! Hello? Is this thing totally borked?”

For a baffling moment, he can’t work out whether he’s shocked or thrilled. She certainly doesn’t use that type of language around the kid, but he’s delighted to hear her voice nonetheless.

“Maia!” He interrupts her frustrated confusion as loud as he dares, lest he wake the sleeping child downstairs.

“Shiny, hi! It works! What’s up, my metal man? It’s late… is this a booty call?”

Once again, Din can’t decide if he’s shocked or thrilled. However, his dick’s instant twitch of interest proves that it, at least, is clearly siding with the latter. Dank farrik, he wishes it were a booty call. “No, Maia, I need—”

“Course it’s not!” she interrupts, giggling inanely. “Sorry, that was ridiculous, ignore me. Go on, you were saying?”

He takes a deep breath and tries to push past the stab of dismay at her labelling the idea of a booty call as ridiculous. At least she sounds in a happy mood.

“I’m sorry to contact you so late, but Karga has some kind of crisis. IG-11 is still with the Anzellans for repairs after the last crisis, so he’s asked for my help. Grogu’s asleep, but I’m gonna need you to come over and wait at the cabin until I return. I’ll pay you double your usual rate. I just don’t wanna leave him here alone.”

“Suuure! I’ll haul my jets over to you now. Five, ten minutes, tops. If you wanna take off now, I know your door code. I’ll check on the li’l bug as soon as I arrive.”

Din breathes a relieved sigh. “Thank you, I owe you. I shouldn’t be long.”

“Happy hunting, Beskar Boy! Or happy dispute settling!” Maia signs off with a melodic laugh that instantly makes him grin beneath his helmet, despite the stupid nickname.

The grin fades as he processes the meaning of the words preceding her addictive laughter, and he sighs. She’s probably right, although he hopes he’ll at least need his blaster for whatever mess the High Magistrate wants him to clean up.

Karga was once able to intimidate the townsfolk, but these days, they see him as purely a leader and captain of industry. They respect his ability to govern and improve the town – he’s more than proven himself capable in those roles. But whipping out a blaster from beneath those ridiculous robes now gains him little more than dubious raised eyebrows. By contrast, Cara was a fearsome and capable law enforcer, and now IG-11 keeps the citizens in line.

Except a reptavian tore off both of IG’s legs a few nights ago. Apparently, whatever the droid equivalent of ‘sick leave’ is, he’s taking it.

Din doesn’t mind helping out when he’s not on jobs for Carson. As long as Karga doesn’t solicit his help too often, it’s an easy way to make a few extra credits. He supposes that kind of makes him a part-time deputy, though he’ll never accept a title or a contract. But if tonight’s job is nothing more than a neighbour dispute, he’ll be a little peeved. His friend is aware of his skillset and wouldn’t contact him unless it required weapons and armour. He hopes.

He checks on Grogu once more, then equips himself with his usual arsenal, making sure to lock the weapons cabinet behind him. For some reason, his blasters fascinate Maia. He’s given her several shooting lessons, and she always asks to hold them whenever the cabinet’s unlocked. Although he doubts she’d handle them without his permission, he’d rather be present if she’s caressing his things.

Truthfully, he’d prefer it if she handled and caressed something else entirely, though he buries that thought for now. He has work to do, and an ill-timed hard-on would be awkward at best, if not downright perverse. He can torture himself later.

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Din wraps up the problem in less than an hour. It does require his blaster, in fact, and he does have to shoot someone. Okay, it’s in the shoulder to disarm him, but the guy is only on his drunken vendetta because he’s heartbroken. He doesn’t deserve to die.

A year ago, he would’ve just shot him in the head and gone home. But he’s lived among the citizens of Nevarro for several months now, and he’s almost starting to feel like part of the community. Passing through it to visit the old covert was different. The Mandalorians were a separate (secret) colony, and he was merely a visitor who lived on his ship. Even though his new home is still on the outskirts, Grogu attends the school in town, and he already knows many of the other parents by name. These days, the market stall owners try to chat with him instead of looking away in fear as they used to.

The guy standing on a table in the cantina tonight with a blaster trained on his ex and her new flame is someone Din recognises. He can’t recall from where, but disarming rather than killing him feels like the right thing to do.

Once he has him in binders, he delivers him to Karga and hurries straight home. The lava flats are quiet and peaceful this time of night, free from the nocturnal bustle of the town and lit only by the celestial display above. There’s no sulphur fog tonight, and the air smells fresh.

But as pleasant as it is, he doesn’t dawdle. Just like every other time he’s left Maia in charge, he relishes the chance to walk into his home and see her there. As if she belongs. He finds that image far more dazzling than the constellations sparkling above him. It’s far sweeter than the fresh air he inhales through his helmet filters as he hastens toward his cabin.

He can’t pinpoint when his interest in her changed from professional to passionate. Grogu made it clear that he liked her best out of the several childminders they auditioned, so he gave her the job. At some point between then and now, he became enamoured with her.

But he can’t do anything about it.

His loyalty to his son means he can’t fuck the babysitter, so for now, Maia belongs to the kid, and Din sleeps alone.

Even though he’s had no serious relationships in the past, he imagines he’d be willing to try it with her. But since it’ll never happen, it’s not worth dwelling on. He’s noticed a few locals checking him out, so he can always approach them if he’s looking to get laid. He’s much more used to casual encounters.

But none of that stops Din from thinking his babysitter is beautiful. It doesn’t stop him from wishing he could run his hands over her welcoming body, indulge in her tender touch and heady scent, sink into her depths over and over until she’s crying out his name as they shatter together in ecstasy….

Dank farrik, he’d better quit thinking like that. He has enough trouble controlling his physical urges around her as it is. In fact, it’s starting to become a problem. He’s lost count of how many times he’s had to dash off and furtively rearrange himself so his stomach padding hides his boner. He can’t wear the flight suits with the tight pants around her anymore, so the looser-fitting ones are getting much more use. In fact, he’s wearing his last pair. (That reminds him: he needs to do laundry tomorrow.)

Maia teases him whenever she can, but it’s always friendly, not flirty, and it doesn’t come close to being sexual. He’s never caught her looking anywhere other than directly at his visor. Still, he can’t help feeling embarrassed whenever something she says or does causes his cock to harden. He simply can’t control it.

Din reaches the cabin and punches in the door code, happy to note that his guest has locked it from inside. Her diligence and attention to detail certainly helped him trust her in his home from the outset of her employment.

Stepping across the threshold, he notices all the lights are out except for the one above the kitchen sink, which is unusual. Stranger still, all it illuminates is a near-full cup of water standing in a pool of condensation.

Nonetheless, it’s bright enough for him to survey the rest of the room cast in shadowed shades of grey.

He can’t see Maia.

Instantly, his heart rate rises, although he doesn’t panic. She’s probably just in the refresher or the kid’s bedroom with him. But the amount of moisture surrounding that cup shows it’s been sitting there almost as long as he was gone, which is curious. And there’s no light coming from downstairs either.

The cabin is small, with an open-plan kitchen and living space, and a staircase leading down to two bedrooms and the refresher. Din’s priority is his son, so he creeps down the ferrocrete steps, well-practised at following the route silently. With his night vision on, he can see that Grogu’s door is open a crack, and he pushes it wider. Little purring snores verify that the kid is sleeping soundly, and he slides the door fully closed to ensure he stays that way. Good.

Since his babysitter wasn’t in that room, and she wouldn’t invade his private space without permission, there’s only one other option. He bypasses his own bedroom opposite Grogu’s and heads to the door facing him – the refresher. He can’t pick up any sounds from within, but he’s not about to invade her privacy by listening too intently. The door is fully shut, but there’s a faint glow through the ventilation grill at the bottom, too weak to be the usual lights. A glowrod?

That’s rather odd. He’s grateful that Maia avoided putting on the hall lights while Grogu’s door was ajar, but she could’ve switched on the refresher lights once inside.

For an unsettling moment, Din isn’t sure how to proceed. He really doesn’t want to interrupt her if she’s busy. But… his instincts are telling him something is off, and he wants to know she’s okay.

He’ll give her a little longer. He’d rather be cautious than a perv.

He retreats upstairs again, conducting a thorough check of the living space and kitchen but finding nothing abnormal or suspicious. Nothing besides that abandoned cup of water, at least. Next comes his nightly check of the cabin’s weak points – the windows and entryway. He secures them all, figuring he can escort Maia out when she’s ready. Tipping away the water, he runs a fresh cup, turns his back to the stairs to lift his helmet and drink, and refills it. Finally, he disarms himself of most of his weapons, leaving one blaster in its holster and his vibroblade in his boot. He likes to bring some of his usual arsenal downstairs with him, even though he has multiple spares in a secure cabinet near his bed.

Which is where he’s headed now. Din sets the drink on his nightstand, switches off his night vision, and switches on the dim bedside light. His guest has seen him armourless a few times before, so he begins removing his beskar and the rest of his kit. He’s almost finished – just his armourweave stomach padding to go – when he hears a thump from the refresher.

In seconds, he’s outside it again, listening intently for any further clues. He’s been in the business of handling unconscious bodies for decades, and that sounded like an unconscious body.

“Maia?” he tries, keeping his voice low to ensure he won’t disturb the kid.

Nothing.

He knocks gently, giving it a few moments.

Still nothing.

Okay, now he’s really starting to worry. He returns to his bedroom, grabs his vambrace, and flicks through his visual settings until he’s replaced his night vision with the thermal overlay. He hopes he isn’t crossing a line here, but what else can he do? Walking to his doorway, he takes a deep breath… and directs his visor at the refresher.

Dank farrik, she’s on the fucking floor. Why didn’t he check sooner?

Jabbing off the thermal overlay, Din throws his vambrace on the bed, then rushes to the refresher door. He keeps his voice low in case he wakes Grogu, hoping it reaches her anyway. “Maia, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I hope you’re decent because I’m coming in.”

He gives her five torturous seconds to respond or get decent if she isn’t already, and then he keys in the override code. The door slides open, revealing his unconscious (but blessedly fully clothed) babysitter slumped near the toilet, lit by a glowrod on the floor next to her. He can now hear her breathing heavily, though it doesn’t sound laboured, just a deep state of sleep.

His helmet isn’t sealed, so straight away, he’s able to detect the lingering smell of vomit. A somewhat grim consequence of being both a bounty hunter and a father means Din can also distinguish types of vomit. Although she has flushed, there’s no air filtration with the lights off, and the residual odour tells him that Maia has been drinking alcohol.

It also explains her unconscious state, so his worry dissipates a little, and mild annoyance starts to creep in.

She agreed to look after his son when she’d been drinking?

He kneels down next to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Maia. Wake up.” He shakes her, but she doesn’t stir.

He assumes she slipped from a propped-up position against the toilet, and the thud he heard was her slumping onto the ferrocrete floor. Did she bang her head? If that didn’t wake her… shit.

He tries shaking her again with as much force as he dares, and she groans and curls up even more. She’s fighting it, but he sees consciousness sluggishly returning.

“Maia, it’s Din. Can you sit up?”

“… y’can’t make me sing for the cup….” She’s still half asleep and confused, but that’s not surprising. A few seconds later, she cracks open her eyes, becomes aware of her situation, and slams them shut again. “Oh… fuuuck… no no, m’sorry… so so so s-sorry… please don’t be mad at meee….” She’s tearful and rambling but mostly coherent, even though she’s still curled on the floor with her eyes squeezed closed.

“What happened?” He can’t think of anything else to say until he’s established her culpability. He knows she wouldn’t drink on the job, so she must’ve been drinking earlier this evening. It certainly explains her overzealous response on the comlink. Dank farrik, he should’ve realised. But, no, he was busy revelling in his own drunken high from her joke about it being a booty call. Idiot.

“It was accidet— ac-ci-den-tal,” she continues from her foetal position. “Tried to call you back, but m’comlink’s busted… figured better I’m here drunk than not at all… ’m sorry sorry sorry, kark, pleeease don’t hate me. I jus’ wanted to make sure the li’l man was okay. I didn’t realise how much I’d had till I stood up, n’ it hit me worse on the way over. But Grogu’s fine, I checked. But I’ve grossed up your ’fresher, ’m sorry…”

Din sighs. In the scheme of things, Maia did the right thing. He’d rather she was here puking in his refresher than risk his child waking up alone. And it occurs to him that she achieved a surprising amount while seemingly drunk as a pirate. She secured the cabin, poured herself some water, stomached a few sips, managed to descend the stairs unscathed, and checked on the kid. Then she sealed herself inside the refresher and threw up neatly into the toilet bowl with no spills, even managing to flush before she passed out. And she did all that by the light of a glowrod so she wouldn’t wake Grogu.

In many ways, his babysitter’s actions tonight were more responsible than some of his own questionable choices regarding his son’s safety. He can’t be mad at her.

He tells her so. “I’m not mad, Maia. Thank you for coming over anyway. Can you sit up? I need to know you’re okay.”

Her eyes are still clamped shut, but she cracks them slightly as she tries to push herself off the floor. It doesn’t go well, so Din reaches forward to help, and together, they get her into a stable sitting position. Nevarro’s volcanic environment means the basement maintains a cosy warmth, so he’s not surprised she passed out down here. It’s not exactly soft, but those who grow up in the Outer Rim spend their lives making do. He likes that she’s a survivor. Like him.

“Everything’s s-spinning,” she groans. “N’ my mouth tastes like bantha balls.”

Din suppresses a snort. “Hold on.” He climbs to his feet, retrieves the cup of water from his bedroom, and then passes it to her. “Here, sip.”

After she’s taken a few delicate sips, Maia gives him back the cup. “Don’t wanna puke again.”

“You won’t,” he assures, placing it in her hands again. “Pretty sure you got all the alcohol out of your system already. You gotta rehydrate, or you’ll feel worse.”

Kneeling down next to her again, he watches her try to follow his instruction, pleased she trusts him. He can’t help but admire how adorably dishevelled she is. Her hair is mussed, her clothes are wrinkled, and she keeps pouting between sips… but it’s all so… cute.

Once she’s had half the cup, he accepts it back, though she follows it up with more apologies. “M’so sorry… , m’such a karkin’ idiot… I get it if you don’t want me to look after Grogu anym—”

“Stop,” Din interrupts sharply, unwilling to let her beat herself up. “This is as much on me as it is on you. I didn’t ask you if you were busy. I demanded you come over and bribed you with extra credits. I didn’t question why you sounded different on the comlink. And I didn’t wait for you to arrive. If I’d done any of those things differently, you might not have ended up on my ’fresher floor. So I’m sorry too.” Maia doesn’t reply besides blinking at him a few times, so he asks, “What was the occasion? For the drinking, I mean.”

“One year of freedom from a terrible relationship,” she states resolutely, and for a moment, she seems a little more sober. “Me n’ Zandi, we were both in deep with some mudscuffers who locked us in when we were too young to know any better. But we got lucky. Marshal Dune caught them dealing spice, and now they’re spending a decade mining the asteroid field at the edge of the system. The Nevarran tribunal sentenced them a year ago today, so we drank to celebrate our freedom.”

Din doesn’t really know how to respond. She’s made some previous passing remarks about the toxic relationships she and her friend escaped from, which he’s always taken as hints of her wish to remain unattached. It’s yet another reason he wouldn’t feel right about making any sort of move on her. He settles on, “You… deserve to celebrate.”

“Thanks, Shiny.” He bristles at the nickname out of habit, but he secretly likes that Maia has numerous nicknames for him. “N’ you deserve a ’fresher without a woman on the floor. I should get outta your way, Beskar Boy.”

She tries pushing herself up but instantly becomes dizzy and topples to the side. Din’s naturally quick reflexes kick in, and he positions himself to catch her, letting her fall into his chest as his arm snakes around her back. Before he can even process what he’s doing, he’s slipping his other arm beneath her knees and lifting her up.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, grabbing onto his flight suit with one hand while the other flies to grasp his neck. He almost shivers from feeling her clutch at him so keenly. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I love it! Thanks for the lift, muscles!”

He’s glad his bold move has amused rather than perturbed her, so he doesn’t answer, too busy willing his cock to remain unreactive to this sudden closeness. His main goal is to get her off the ferrocrete floor and put her down somewhere softer as fast as possible. As he elbows open the door and navigates out of the refresher, he makes a split-second decision. His bed is closer than the couch.

“Shiny! This is your bedroom!” Maia whisper-shouts as he steps through the door. At least she’s lucid enough to keep her voice low in case Grogu hears across the hall.

Din grunts in agreement as he approaches his bed and starts carefully lowering her onto it.

She keeps going in a gleeful whisper. “Is this…? Are we…? Kriff, I never thought I’d actually end up in your bed, metal man! I mean, it’s been a dream, sure, but I figured your creed thing meant, like, no sex or whatever. But holy frotz, I guess tonight really was a booty call! Count me the fuck in!”

He’s already laid her down by the time he fully processes her words.

Dank farrik, he’s a fucking idiot.

He will never have sex with any woman in this state. He’s not that kind of guy. The fact that being with Maia is a dream for him too is meaningless, and so is the possibility that she might actually want him. Because does she really? Maybe this is still the alcohol talking. It has to be. Right?

It doesn’t even matter. All Din needs to do is extract himself from this situation in the least awkward way possible and without having to reject her verbally.

But how?

He points a finger at her. “Stay put.” She bites her bottom lip and acknowledges his order with a sloppy salute.

Damn it, the image of her lip caught between her teeth is now burned into his brain, haunting him with forbidden promise.

He pads back to the refresher in his socks and closes the door, relieving himself, flushing, and then pouring some cleaner down the toilet to sit overnight. He then washes up at the sink as fast as possible and refills the cup of water. Returning to his bedroom, Din places the cup on the nightstand along with the glowrod that belongs to his guest.

Speaking of whom…

In his brief absence, Maia has toed off her shoes, stripped naked and strewn her clothes across the floor, and burrowed under his covers. She’s still bleary from the booze, but he sees fire and lust behind her hopeful gaze as she blinks up at him.

It kills him.

He remembers he never finished removing his armour, so he retrieves the vambrace from where he threw it and places it on its shelf. Then he finally removes his stomach padding and puts that away too, directing his visor anywhere except at the naked woman in his bed. He’s doing everything possible to deny the physical reaction her presence is giving rise to.

When he’s done, Din approaches the bed again, acutely aware that she’s tracking him with a hunger he shares but can do nothing about.

Fuck, this is torture. The blanket has slipped down (or maybe Maia has arranged it) so low that it’s daringly close to exposing her nipples. She’s right there, waiting for him. Wanting him.

But she’s drunk. And she’s his kid’s babysitter. He tries to quell his ache by thinking about how she’s thrown up this evening, which would make kissing gross. It helps for a second, although the idea of kissing her at all ends up eclipsing the negatives, and he hardens even more.

Shit, he cannot think about kissing her. Or how naked she is. Or anything like that. Vomit. He should focus on vomit.

Okay. Din taps off the bedside light and picks up the glowrod, then heads to the door in the dark, stumbling over her clothes strewn on the floor. He can’t activate his helmet’s night vision without his vambrace control, but he won’t put it back on just to navigate his escape. Nor will he switch on the glowrod yet because he doesn’t want to see any dismay or regret in her eyes as he leaves her. He wants to remember the hunger he witnessed there.

Hazardous garments notwithstanding, he finds his way to the exit.

Crossing the darkened doorway’s threshold, he whispers, “Get some rest, Maia.” Then he fumbles for the control and taps the door close button, releasing a sigh as it swishes shut behind him.

Switching on the dim glowrod, he traipses upstairs. It’s going to be so kriffing awkward in the morning. Nonetheless, one thought keeps repeating itself to him above all others, one he can no longer prevent his dick from swelling at the prospect of.

Is she really attracted to him?

He has to know.

Din extracts another blaster from his cabinet, knowing he won’t sleep without one beside him. Then he sits heavily on the couch, thinking about how often he used to sleep in his helmet before this cabin became his home. It’s the first place he’s felt secure enough to remove it at night, so he’s no stranger to sleeping beneath his beskar mask. It’s almost a comfort in a way.

With his face covered in a darkened room lit by nothing but a glowrod while those he cares for slumber downstairs, more memories return…

Sitting in the Crest’s darkened cockpit, fucking his fist by the swirling glow of hyperspace, chasing a release during those first stressful days as a fugitive. In theory, if something had pulled him out of hyperspace, someone could’ve quite literally caught him with his dick in his hand. But the odds of anyone being close enough to peer in through the transparisteel at that very moment and notice his furtive actions were slim. Back then, he was so untethered that in his weaker moments, he desperately sought anything that made him feel good. Fleeting moments when he could pretend his life wasn’t falling apart yet again. The risk was worth it.

Here, too, although he’s locked up the cabin and closed the shutters, there’s a risk of Maia sneaking up the stairs and finding him. But a similar desperation fills him now – the utter frustration of loss. Back then, it was the loss of a stable income, the loss of his covert. Now, it’s his missed chance – the loss of what could’ve been with the woman downstairs. And maybe even the total loss of her in his life. Perhaps she’ll be too embarrassed about this evening’s events and quit. Din couldn’t take that, nor could Grogu. It’s why he tried to avoid this.

Can they get past this? Maybe he ought to find someone else to care for the kid. Would that be best? This is getting too complicated. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

So, right now, he’ll imagine the positive and lose himself in the fantasy, just like he used to. He’ll think about the hunger he saw in her eyes and let himself believe it wasn’t merely the alcohol. Just for tonight, he’ll believe it’s the truth. The risk, once again, is worth it.

He’s already tenting his loose flight suit pants, so he fumbles to expose himself and relaxes against the couch cushions behind him. The wet spot on his underwear displays just how profoundly turned on he is simply by the idea of being with Maia.

After all the temptation it’s endured this evening, his cock is extra sensitive, so he begins with measured, lazy strokes. Whilst he’d love to revel in the fantasy, he knows he won’t last long. As he imagines joining her in his bed, filling his palms with those half-exposed breasts he saw, pressing his naked body against her, his movements begin to speed up and his pressure increases. Very soon, he’s plummeting toward the edge of ecstasy like a podracer pilot with the finish line in sight.

His helmet tips back to stare at the ceiling as he pictures how it would feel to sink into her warm depths, and the notion ignites his fuse, burning rapidly. It only takes a few more strokes before the powder keg within him explodes into a million tiny raptures. His hips stutter, his muscles clench, and his orgasm tears through his body. He comes hard, and a fractured groan far louder than he’d intended escapes through the modulator as he spills forth his pleasure…

Fucking. Bliss.

Din’s mind is blank for some time, just a sense of fulfilment and contentment gently rippling throughout his relaxed form.

As the real world filters back in, he’s able to think clearly, and he now knows what he has to do. He doesn’t like it, but it’s the mature and sensible option. It’s also a fucking daunting prospect, but he’s faced worse. Has he? Yes, he has. He can do it. 

He tucks himself away and finds a cloth to wipe down the mess on his flight suit. That task makes him realise he’ll have to sneak into his bedroom tomorrow without waking Maia to grab his armour and some fresh clothes. And now he really needs to do laundry tomorrow. The only pants he has left are the tighter ones, which he tries to avoid wearing around her. Great, there’s another reason to dread the morning. Although it’s not as if he’s ever caught her checking out his package – she may tease him verbally, but her gaze is always polite.

For now, he’ll enjoy the security of darkness and the lingering swirl of happy chemicals in his brain.

Din lays down on the couch and switches off the glowrod. With a deep sigh, he surrenders to the relaxing state of comfort brought on by his orgasm, letting himself fall into a contented sleep. Before he drifts off, his last thought is of Maia’s beautiful lips… leaning in for a kiss….

If only.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡��ﾟ✧:･.:

[PART 2 COMING ON 1 JUNE 2024]

Those of you who've read my work before will be familiar with my copious end notes:

As usual, it’s British spellings I’m afraid. Demographic stats say about 60% of you are American, but I can’t help where I was born, so sorry about all the extra ‘u’s and ‘l’s and for using ‘s’ where you would expect ‘z’. However, I’ve channelled my inner linguist and used American language and speech patterns since the show is filmed in the US and Din’s accent is American. All other wording is internationally neutral, including Maia’s dialogue (since the next chapter is written from her POV and I’ll be switching to second person reader insert for that, e.g. you/your pronouns). I’m a little sad I didn’t get to include any Mando’a linguistics in this fic tbh. Maybe another time.

The cabin’s layout is inspired by the concept art by Christian Alzmann that appeared in the closing credits of s3e8, in which there appears to be a staircase leading down to a lower level. That makes sense to me, as Din would need total security to sleep without his armour on, and a windowless underground room seemed appropriate. I also like the parallel that on the Razor Crest he used to sleep on the lower level in a windowless room too.

I know Carl’s absence is going to be felt when we finally get the movie, so I wanted to write something where Karga is still around. If this had been a longer piece, I would’ve had him actually featuring in it instead of being in the background, but in any case, Karga lives forever in the universes I write.

The reference to Din wearing looser pants is, weirdly, Canon. One of the ways you can tell it’s Brendan Wayne in the suit is because he seems to prefer these weird baggy clown pants. Contrast to Pedro who likes them tight (Din Peña?), as does Lateef Crowder, and as did Barry Lowin in season 2. Since Brendan did the majority of season 3, we saw Din in the loose-fitting style a lot more, so I decided to write in a reason for that beyond actor preference.

Though we have no information on Nevarro’s judiciary system, they’re an independent world who have a marshal and a magistrate, so my guess is they’d adopt the New Republic’s system of having a tribunal. Generally, group decision-making is favoured during this era, in contrast to the single-judge system of the Imperial era, so it seems more likely that Karga would encourage citizens to serve on a tribunal rather than unilaterally passing judgments himself.

Apologies to @the-mandawhor1an for using the name of your longtime established OC – it was coincidental, I promise! I chose it after looking up the most common female names in the world, one of which is Maria, and I settled on the variant Maia because it sounded like a more Star Wars-y version (and for another reason which you’ll see in part 2). I only realised when you reblogged my WIP Wednesday snippet, and it was a bit late to change it by then. I guess it’s a common name in the SWU too! But I’m sorry and I hope you don’t feel like I’m muscling in on your domain. Your Maia is of course the original Maia 💖

I made the GIF myself. Sorry it’s a bit blurry, I’m not very good at making them yet. I tried to use Tumblr’s GIF-making function, but it wouldn’t let me crop out Grogu’s ears, so this was my alternative attempt. It’ll have to do.

Definitions: Comlinks are those little cylinder comms they all use. Glowrod is a catch-all term for anything portable that produces light. All the swears/insults (stinking stang, frotz, borked, kriff, kark) are from the Legends list of phrases and slang this time (it’s longer than Canon). Nevarran reptavians are the ones that Grogu saved Karga from in s1e7 and that the Mandalorians were roasting in s3e7. Ferrocrete is a compound building material (Canon and Legends) made from concrete and iron, used in roads, reinforced bunkers and building foundations. I figured Din would only be happy with something strong and defensible, so Karga had the cabin built with it. Transparisteel is used for windows and ship viewports, as well as helmet visors.

Part 2 is written and will be uploaded next weekend once proofing/editing is complete. What do we think? Is Din gonna be dumb and tell her she can’t babysit Grogu anymore? Deny himself what he wants for Maia’s own good?

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Tags requested…

@aheadfullofsteverogers @alltheotps @axolotllover225 @burntheedges @copperhalfcent

@foomoosworld @jude77 @secretelephanttattoo @stagerightlauren @the-mandawhor1an

Those tagged below showed interest in my masterlist and WIP snippets (comments/reblogs), so I thought I’d sneak in some extra tags. Apologies if it’s too forward, if you’d prefer I didn’t tag you in part 2 just let me know…

@604to647 @cheekychaos28 @djarinmuse @gingerlurk

@joelalorian @kyberblade @readingupsidedown @sunflowersunlight7-blog

@thefrogdalorian @whataenginerd @wrathkitty

[chrysopoeias]

One thing I find interesting, is that whenever Envy transforms into someone’s loved one is that everyone falls for it still, for a moment, despite them being are aware that it is an illusion. Everyone stops and flinches when Envy transforms in front of them and he wears the face of a person they know. It’s difficult to attack someone you love despite knowing it’s not real, and when they attack anyway, all the characters still hesitate for a moment. Except for Riza, who shoots Envy straight through the skull while he’s wearing Roy’s face, blood and brainstuff splatting everywhere with no hesitation or flinching the moment she figures out it’s not real.

[sinisterexaggerator]

John Hancock - NSFW Alphabet

Only out to have a little fun! Enjoy (or not)! This is just my take on his character.

3.8k words (oops).

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A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex):

No matter how you decide to do the deed, Hancock has your best interest at heart, as long as you stay in his good graces. He wouldn’t necessarily baby you after sex, but he’ll make sure you’re all right, as you may wind up participating in several experimental or unusual scenarios. But in the end, John wants to make sure his little ray of sunshine is well-rested for round two.

He'd offer you chems for a bit of a pick-me-up, a cigarette precariously hanging from the corner of his mouth—he needs a smoke after. It just “feels right.”

He would pat his shoulder as a place for you to rest your head, then pull you in nice and tight before sharing a drag with you, going insofar as to place the filter against your lips, held loosely between two fingers. No uncomfortable post-coital silence—unless you’re into that.

Hancock might even get all philosophical on you now that his head’s clear. I can see him being into pillow talk regardless—we know he loves to run his mouth—nothing a romp in the sack with you won’t cure.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

I have a feeling Hancock isn’t picky, as long as your heart is in the right place. There is more to him than being a “drug addict.” I’d say he’s well-read, even though he acts on instinct—he may be pretty well fond of your brain.

Hancock puts a lot of stock into how people think or speak versus their actions. He’s not a pushover, doesn’t take any bullshit, and if your belief system matches up with his—if he, “likes the way you operate”— you don’t have much to worry about.

Still, I see him favoring something warm and supple to grab onto, something soft to kiss. And he’ll take his time when he’s in the mood, dishing out compliments as he explores every inch of your body.

Maybe with being a Ghoul, it’s a real treat when you get to knock boots with a human. I can see him missing out on what that feels like from time to time.

As far as his own body, I see this man as a bit self-conscious, though he doesn’t let onto that fact quite often. Comments about his “ugly mug” are made in jest, but there is some truth to that within his own thought process and how he perceives himself, most likely, despite the whole “King of the Zombies” vibe he says the ladies love.

Personally, I think his confidence is partially a façade.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person:

Hancock always makes sure you get yours. Multiple orgasms are in the cards, as he knows exactly how to make your toes curl, and he’s not above using that information to his advantage.

You’re the wettest thing in the Wasteland when Hancock’s around, and you can bet your ass he’s going to comment on it every chance he gets. Otherwise, he loves to play in it; to spread the sheen between his fingers; to lick it clean off while you watch, or to smear it over his withered skin, lubricating his cock with it.

All in all, it’s a stroke to his ego to know he’s the one responsible for making you cum that hard that often. You can be damn sure he’s out to fuck you every chance he gets. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

I mentioned this in another post, but Hancock likes it when you’re addicted to chems because he’s the one providing. As long as he’s supplying the drugs for you to get your fix, you’re not going to leave him high and dry.

Maybe he fears being, “skipped out on,” thinkin’ it’s just another reason for you to stick around. It ties into him being insecure—call it insurance. He’s not proud of it, but you don’t seem to mind, and there’s no one around to call him on it.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?):

Based on comments we hear throughout the game, Hancock was known to be a looker before being a Ghoul. He’s still a looker even after his transformation, and he is well-aware his physical appearance garners the attention of the ladies, or so he says. From this we can infer Hancock has no trouble in finding someone to fuck. I’m sure he has been around the block more than a few times, but it would be the appearance of someone special in his life that might make him rethink his whorish lifestyle.

Despite being a bit of a promiscuous rascal who most likely participates in a lot of meaningless sex, when he finds the right person, I am sure he is more than happy to be monogamous. But overall, I would say he definitely knows what the hell he’s doing—why else would Bobbi make that comment about everyone being in love with him?

Hancock’s a catch, contrary to whether or not he believes it himself, and for more than one reason, me thinks. And it is common for even those people who are “good-looking” to be self-conscious and worried about how others perceive them, so that doesn’t change the idea of him still being insecure despite his charm and charisma, though him saying he’s charming could be him playing at being facetious.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual):

The Couch Surfer*

Hancock loves to bend you over the arm of the couch in the Old State House with you face down in the cushions as he plows into you from behind. It allows for deeper penetration and more thrusting power, with your feet either on the floor, or with your knees pulled in toward your own body as your legs hover off the ground.

This also makes it so neither of you have to get entirely undressed if you don’t want to, or if there is simply no time for anything but a quickie. With both of you pulling down your trousers, or with you hiking up your dress, it makes for easy access, and the angle is just right for hitting that sweet spot.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc):

Hancock is a switch in more ways than one. This can go either way, as he’s not afraid to get weird or try anything once. At the same time, if you’re his special person, he may be inclined to take things a bit more serious. Think body worship in this case, or copious amounts of praise, romantic notions in your ear—that sort of thing.

This doesn’t account for if you’ve pissed him off, as all bets are off, and I’m sure he can think of more than one way to set you straight, even if that involves being more condescending than usual, or withholding sex all together because he’s just “not feeling it after the way you’ve been actin’.”  

In fact, he may be able to home in on if he’s frightening you—that in and of itself can be a turn on. Oh, you’ve been misbehaving lately? Get ready to meet No More Mister Nice Ghoul. Although, you’d have to fuck up royally for him to take any of that so serious.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.):

No hair, don’t care (obviously)! But Hancock may enjoy running his fingers through yours, and he does so gently, not afraid to brush that stray strand out of your eyes.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…):

This can also go either way, depending on Hancock’s mood. One minute he’s treating you like the filthy whore you are, and the next minute he’s spewing off the most romantic things you’ve ever heard. He’s not afraid to speak his mind, no matter the topic of conversation. He’ll tell you to suck his cock like a good little slut, but then don’t put it past him to confess how much you mean to him in the same breath.

In other words, you can simultaneously be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, while also receiving an earful of the dirtiest, raunchiest trash talk to have ever been uttered by man. He knows you’re going to come undone regardless—he just has that effect on you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon):

Hancock loves to force you to watch him masturbate when it’s impossible for you to touch him. That American flag at his waist serves well in a pinch, able to tie your hands up so he can sit back and pleasure himself without you interfering.

Long, languid strokes drive you mad, Hancock not skimping on the heady eye contact, enjoying it when you come unraveled at the seams. You’re begging to join in, to please him yourself, but this is where the fun begins—cry for him all you want to, those handcuffs aren’t coming off, not until he says so.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks):

Oh, man. OK, here we go!

Praise kink – Hancock gives Golden Retriever boyfriend energy. Maybe it’s the fact he follows you around in-game, but he would take so well to you praising him. “Mn, yeah? You like that? Let me show you what else I can do…”

Role-play – I can see this man being into role-play scenarios. He already basically cosplays as a historical figure— it gives him the freedom to mess around with you knowing he doesn’t mean any of it in the end. You can be sure he’d have a safe word if that’s something you’re wanting. He’d take on new roles himself, or play along with yours. “Big bad Mayor” comes to mind for those of you who want a little more bossing around.

Sensation play - Hancock is big on touch. He loves to trace your skin with his fingers, or for you to touch him. I can also see him being into sensory deprivation, blindfolding himself so his sole focus remains on the feel of your hands smoothing over his callous flesh. I’m sure besides a lot of one-night stands, he barely gets anything in the way of attention. It’s always quick and easy— to really be close to someone? That takes guts.

Brat taming – This is a given. Maybe it’s not a game, you’re just really a brat. He doesn’t mess around when it’s time to get serious, so if you’re in his way, or if you’re rubbing him wrong, expect to hear about it. Think daddy/little girl vibes in most cases, but this can spill over into the role-play arena as well. But it’s not all negative—if you’ve been a good girl or boy, he’s willing to praise you for a job well done.

Degradation – Shit-talking him to the point of degradation is a thing he’s into. Not that he believes everything you’re saying, but he’s able to take a few verbal punches without psychic damage. The more sarcastic and ruthless you are, the more he respects you, and the more it may turn him on. He enjoys someone who isn’t afraid to stand up to him, but he also enjoys being put in his place, if you have the balls to try.

Bondage – Tie him up and have your way with him, or he’s liable to do the same to you. He loves a strong, take-charge woman, and a go get ‘em kinda man. He has the most fun when you’re the one who’s “powerless.” He’ll drive you wild before he finally gives in—the best part is watching you squirm and beg for him.

Exhibitionism – He will fuck you anywhere and everywhere; he doesn’t care who watches, but watching’s all their going to do. Hancock’s always down for a quickie, or something a little more intimate, but it doesn’t matter if it’s in the privacy of his suite at the Old State House, or the backroom of the Third Rail. Sex is sex, and there is no one he rather have it more with than you—anytime, anyplace.

Knife play/ Gun play – This Ghoul will use any and all means with which to get his rocks off, and he has a special place in his heart for knives. He’ll draw blood, or not, running the blade across your skin, not afraid to use the hilt to fuck you. The same goes for guns of all sorts, shells or bullets removed. Expect them to be put into places – like your mouth, or cunt. He’s not shy about it.

*I should add he is a total switch. He can play at top or bottom. IMO he plays bottom more frequently for male partners, and tops for female partners, but again, he loves a woman who knows how to take charge – he wouldn’t mind if you stepped on him.

Overall, he has a lot of sadistic qualities, but he’s also a bit of a masochist— he knows when and where to draw the line. He would never hurt you or do anything without your consent, UNLESS you’ve done something to get on his bad side, then there is no telling what might happen.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do):

As I mentioned earlier, this man is an exhibitionist, so he would settle for fucking you anywhere he could. However, the riskier, the better, as he’s not afraid of getting caught—it’s part of the thrill. But if he’s feeling romantic, maybe he takes you to the roof of the Old State House, out under the stars.

Afterward, he lays with you there, pointing out the various constellations he’s read about in books. Maybe he even dragged an old mattress up there—no one will miss it—as it’s a place you frequently rendezvous.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going):

Violence and compassion, LOL. Allow me to explain:

Put simply, you putting down assholes for all the right reasons gets him hard. Hancock’s all about dispensing justice, about helping out the little guy, so if he gets to watch you kill evil fucking people while doing just that? Talk about a bonus— a really attractive one.

“Mn, the way you cut that guy’s head clean off—I wanted to fuck you right then and there. You should have seen his eyes bug out—bastard knew what was coming.”

Also, you doing a lot of chems and lowering your inhibitions for him? You willing to get freaky with him? That just makes you soulmates.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs:

Cannibalism, which is self-explanatory considering his comments in the game in regard to Sole if you have/use that perk. Hey, at least he’s not too judgmental.

I also do not assume he’s into torture, or blood and gore. A quick, merciless death is more his style, but considering his thoughts on Pickman and his “artistic flair,” plus not wanting to go anywhere near the gallery to see for himself, makes me think he’s adverse to that kind of thing. He doesn’t necessarily like hurting people or causing pain, only when the situation truly calls for it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc):

I see him as preferring to give, though he won’t turn down a blowjob. It is a high all its own to get you off so easy with his mouth.

All those delicious little sounds; the way you writhe beneath him; the way you hold the back of his head; the way you say his name… It’s addicting, almost more so than chems. And I should say he’s not above eating ass.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.):

Again, both—depending on what his mood dictates. He’s not afraid to fuck you hard and fast, but he can also slow down and make love to you when he’s feeling soft. He’s a moody Ghoul, but it is a part of his charm. Time spent with him is never boring.

Sometimes, pure, unbridled lust wins out, or maybe he’s feeling sadistic for whatever reason—in this case, you may find yourself unable to walk the next morning.

But he can also be sensual, taking his time to please you proper while sending you to heaven on a cloud of fluffy, romantic words. He’s multifaceted, and so is your love for each other.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc):

I don’t think I am alone when I say that Hancock commenting offhand about, “you just say the word if you wanna take a little, uh, chem break” is most likely a euphemism for sex and very suggestive.

He sure as hell has nothing bad to say about quickies. Getting down and dirty at a moment’s notice is in his wheelhouse, so don’t be afraid to tell him when you’re in the mood, no matter where you might be or what you might be doing.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.):

Bears repeating, I guess. He’s up for almost anything and everything, minus the eating human flesh part. He’s not afraid to take risks in any aspect of his life, always out to do the right thing, even if there are consequences.

In relation to sex, he’s not shy, and doesn’t expect for you to be either. Feel free to open up to him about your deepest, darkest desires—he would be thrilled to help you out in that department.

Expect him to offer chems beforehand, or to check in with you if it’s something a little more high-risk. Safety first and all that nonsense—he truly cares about your well-being, but it’s also nice to know he’s met his match. That’s not to say he wouldn’t have fun corrupting you.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…):

I’m going to say that the regenerative effect that Ghouls possess also allows them to recuperate quickly after sex. Hancock has a stamina stockpile; he could go for hours, or for multiple rounds.

Of course, he also doesn’t mind just holding you, slowing down to bask for a little while in your amiable company.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?):

Back to the knife-play, gun-play kink, I suspect he not only uses various, dangerous tools to pleasure you, but also rope, or handcuffs. Everyday items that can he repurposed into something new and fucked up—alligator clamps for your nipples, or an Institute shock baton as a cattle prod—if you’re into that sort of thing. In other words, he’s not afraid to experiment.

As it’s the “end of the world,” I am not sure he has access to expensive, exotic toys, but if he did, he would be sure to use them. Maybe there’s an old sex shop with a few top of the line products still on the shelves. He’d nab anything for shits and giggles, trying various things out on you and on himself. Not like he has anything better to do.

But even so, he probably prefers it just being you and him, nothing fancy. He doesn’t need it— you’re all he needs to have a good time.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

Hancock often plays unfair. He loves to tease you to the point of edging. He’ll take you as far as the cusp of an orgasm, then let the feeling dissipate, driving you toward insanity a little more each time.

And he’s so good at what he does; you’ll cum when he allows it. Lucky for you, this time he’s feeling generous—but if you pout? He’s done for.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make):

Hancock may make you scream his name, but he’s more of a subdued moan, heavy breaths in your ear kind of Ghoul. He’ll whisper sweet sentiments or speak all the filthy, filthy things he’s going to do you, but may be a bit of a pillow biter when roles are reversed.

He’d still take it like a champ, though, chomping down to keep from “embarrassing” himself. I also bet he’s a bit of a whimperer, or a whiner, fingers digging into the sheets as he buckles down under you like a common whore.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice):

I’ve got two:

1) Hancock is an over-protective boyfriend who is always out to “watch your back,” whether that be keeping his eye out for creeps, or intervening in a conversation on your behalf. I can also see him as the slightly jealous type, though he would bring it up only due to his own insecurities. Otherwise, he quietly stews until it eats away at him enough he feels the need to say what’s on his mind.

“Hey, if you’re getting bored of me, just say the word—I’ll go.” I don’t think he wants to stick around where he’s not wanted.

2) Hancock is into PDA maybe more than he should be. He’d let you sit in his lap in public while his hands travel your body. He’d caress your waist and thighs, and whisper jokes in your ear that are only meant for you to hear— Hancock loves making you giggle. He’s also up for dragging you into dark corners for steamy make-out sessions, or just wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. Let ‘em stare, he gives no fucks who sees you together.

Of course, he’s also OK with just gazing at you lovingly when no one’s looking— not even you.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words):

Hancock’s cock is just as scarred and damaged as the rest of his body, but he can still get it up, and the striations and respective bits of raised tissue are basically just another way of saying “ribbed for your pleasure.”

It’s variegated in color, or various shades—pale, deathly white, intermingled with dark, almost cadaverous-like patches. If you’re into necrosis, this is the man for you, though nothing is falling off or anything like that—he’s 100% intact, willing and able.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?):

I imagine he has a pretty high sex-drive, but sex isn’t everything to him by any means. He’s always down for a quick romp in the hay, but he’s also not opposed to cuddles.

Yes, he’s a cuddler. With the sappy, over the top romantic lines he says in game, how can this man NOT want to bury himself in your arms every chance he gets? And don’t put it past him to be clingy, either. That’s not always what he’s about, but it can happen with the right combination of brain chemicals and fluffy feelings.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

I see Hancock as waiting for you to fall asleep first, or at least being cognizant enough to know what is going on in the event he has to keep you safe from whatever’s lurking in the dark, whether you’re hiding in the ruins, or walled up somewhere in Goodneighbor—can never be too careful.

In addition, I peg him as someone who may be a bit of an insomniac. He’s a bit hyper in game, and with the fact he pumps himself full of chems just to try to get high, I imagine even as a Ghoul it could fuck up your sleep cycle.

Still, when he falls asleep he sleeps hard—but don’t mind waking him. He’s ready to go when you are, just give him a minute.

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If you enjoyed this, be on the lookout for my John Hancock x Fem! Reader fic in the next day or so! 6.8k+ words of porn with plot. :D

P.S.: if you have a specific request, or just want to talk about Hancock in my inbox, feel free!!