#but it still feels sillier than it’s probably meant to

[corovera]

TotK pre-release: oh no! Death Mountain is full of gloom! What kind of horrible fate has befallen the Gorons?

TotK: Truly the worst fate of all - they’re stuck in an anti-drug PSA!

[feelbokkie]

花火 (Fireworks)

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

**Requested**

bff!han and reader the way they steal a glance every once in a while slowly falling in love with eachothers laugh, with their smile the SOFTEST SOFTEST kiss to have ever kissed it's not either of their first kiss, but there's fireworks EXCEPT THERES ACTUAL FIREWORKS BC THERE AT AN EVENT

genre: fluff

pov: 2nd person

description: Back home after touring for months, your best friend Jisung takes you to a firework festival.

pairing: best friend!Jisung x reader

warnings: none?

word count: 1,792

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

"You know," You huff as you adjust the large stuffed quokka in your arms, "as cute as it was to win me this, it probably would have been cheaper if you just bought this from the vendor outright.."

"My pride would have never allowed that," Jisung says casually as he continues to pull you through the crowd, his grip on you tighter than you thought impossible for him.

When did he get so strong?

You haven't seen your best friend Jisung in months. He's been off traveling the world touring and promoting his music while you were busy working. You knew that when he came back, he was going to want to spend as much time as he possibly could to make up for lost time. You thought it would be how it always was: nights in either at your apartment or his dorm with movies and whatever food you wanted. When Jisung told you that there was a festival he wanted to go to, you were shocked. It's loud, crowded, and overwhelming; all the things that Jisung normally dislikes when going out into a public space. In all honestly, you've spent most of the day checking out for his warning signs in case he became too overwhelmed. Not that you minded staring at his face.

"How does your pride feel about how much you just spent right now?" You giggle, because you can't help but laugh. The whole idea of Jisung spending over an hour trying to win you a stuffed quokka because you turned to him and said "Look, it's you" is completely silly. His response after he won the oversized stuffed animal is even sillier.

"There, now you'll have me around when I'm away on tour,"

You weren't sure what he meant by that. Ever since the creation of the skzoos, he's always made sure you had every variation of Han Quokka. At first, it was to "keep you company" while he was away and then it became, to "add to the collection." And still, you're not sure what it was about what he said this time that made your heart race around your entire body and your breath hitch in your throat.

Maybe it's the fact that you've hardly seen him in over a year. He was on tour for most of the year last year, only coming back for the holidays, but you went back home to spend time with your family. And then it felt like he was only free for a week when the world tour ended. The boys almost immediately went back to work on their next album. And then promotion for that album, followed by the creation and promotion of a Japanese album, and then yet another creation and promotion of another album. On top of that they have various schedules for interviews, award shows, content for their fans, and so many other things, that you're surprised Jisung even has time for you right now.

And yet, here he is, wearing a black, oversized ratty old Wu-Tang Clan shirt that he said he thrifted while he was on tour in the States, a pair of baggy jeans that dragged on the floor, and a pair of off-white sneakers that made him a little taller than he actually his. With his face concealed by a black bucket hat and a face mask that spent more time on his chin than it did on his face. It's almost like he wasn't international superstar Han Jisung, but your best friend. The first friend you made when you moved to South Korea to start a new life.

"Are you happy?" He asks suddenly, carefully pushing his way through the crowd of people.

You're quiet for a moment, confused as to why that question would even cross his mind. "Yeah, why?"

"Then my pride doesn't care," Hey says simply.

Has he always been like this?

Bold isn’t a word you would use to describe. Confident? Yes, absolutely. He wouldn’t be where is he today if he wasn’t at least a little bit confident in himself. But bold? You were always more of a risk-taker of the duo and made more decisive decisions. Jisung has always been more cautious, only taking risks with his career. Even then, that was more confidence than him being bold. After all, being confident is the only way anyone could survive in the industry.

Finally, there's a break in the crowd as Jisung reached the front of the crowd. The festival hasn't been too crowded the entire time you've been there. The two of you went earlier in the day to avoid the crowd so Jisung could walk around comfortably without being recognized. But as the sun began to set, more people came making you feel more anxious. Not because you dislike crowds and the havoc that they bring, but because Jisung does. And he's been having such a good day, you didn't want it to end.

You've caught yourself starting at Jisung more times than you care to admit. Small glimpses throughout the day. Little things about him caught your eye. The way his skin would bronze in the sunlight. Or how his eyes would become a fine line when he laughed, really laughed. And how his large, gummy smile took up most of his face. And the little pout he would do when he was doing poorly in a game. Or the way his face would turn red when you would turn to steal a glance and he was already looking at you. And the small smile he'd give you when he would catch you staring.

It's normal, right?

How happy you are spending time with Jisung. How your heart hasn't stopped pounding since he grabbed your hand 5 minutes ago. And the way your stomach has been doing acrobatics every time he laughs. You've just missed him.

And here he is, standing in front of you without the barrier of a screen.

"Do you know what the Japanese word for firework is?" Jisung asks suddenly.

The two of you are sitting comfortably on the grass at the front of the crowd, and yet he still holds your hand. Not that you mind. You can hardly see his face in the dark of the night. The stalls and surrounding buildings started turning their lights off or dimming them as the crowd started to settle down for the fireworks show.

"I barely know the Korean word for firework," You chuckle softly in response.

"Fair enough," He chuckles back, "It's the same concept in both Korean and Japanese so I guess I could have just asked if you knew the Korean word."

"Same concept?" You tilt your head to the side while looking at Jisung. Your eyes slowly adjust to the dark, allowing you to make out the familiar features of his face. "What are you talking about?"

Jisung turns his attention in front of him. Nothing is happening, and yet he stares off into the distance. "Bulkkoch. Hanabi. In both languages, firework is made up of two characters. Bul and hi both mean fire in their respective languages. Then kkoch and hana mean flower. So in direct translation, firework is either fire flower or flower fire."

"It's prettier than the English word, that's for sure. Seems lazy in comparison. It's literally just a work of fire for us."

"I think so too. But of the two, I think hanabi is the prettier." Jisung turns his attention back to you. "Reminds me of you, somehow."

You're not sure why, but your breath hitches in your throat and your heart starts to flutter like the wings of a hummingbird. He's just your friend. But maybe, just maybe, you have feelings for him.

You don't know when it started or if there was even a starting point to be had. Maybe you've always had feelings for him and you just didn't realize it. Spending time with Jisung is the happiest you've been in months. Your stomach and cheeks hurt from laughing so much. And maybe your feelings for him were there in the subtext of it all. You've never laughed this much with any of your other friends. You can't remember the last time someone made you so much in one day. Nor do you think you've never felt such joy hearing someone say your name before. Out of all the things he's ever sung, your name is your favorite song.

"Y/n," Jisung mumbles. You're certain your eyes are playing tricks with the light.

You freeze as Jisung's face slowly gets closer to you. So slow that you're not sure he's moving. Still, as the scent of his cologne becomes increasingly stronger, you stay completely still. As if any sudden movement will scare him away. And he might. You're not sure where Jisung's confidence is coming from but you know better than anyone it's just a facade that can be easily shaken. And, if what you think is happening is happening, you don't want to deter him from continuing.

You should stop him. Remind him that the two of you are in public and anyone could see. Anyone could take a picture and send it to dispatch. But part of you is selfish, wanting a part of him for yourself after sharing him with the world for so long. A part of him that you know he can't share with his fans.

Your eyes close instinctively as he's only inches away from you. You slowly lose your nerve as he stops moving closer, his breath tickling your face. Maybe he realized what he was doing. Maybe he--

Your mind stops racing as Jisung's lips gently graze yours. So softly at first, you think you imagined it until he leans in more, closing any and every gap between your lips.

It's a simple kiss, in an innocent way. And yet, you feel a jolt of electricity run through your body. Like Jisung is an outlet and you're a kid who just shoved a fork in it. So innocent and yet, your entire body is on fire, tingling like all of your nerves are miniature fireworks going off all at once.

Hanabi

Jisung slowly pulls away, leaving you breathless and your head spinning.

You're no stranger to kissing. Neither of you are. You've done it more times than you care to count throughout your life. Some with people who've meant significantly less than what Jisung means to you. And somehow, you've never been left so breathless from a peck on the lips before. Judging by the look on Jisung's face, illuminated the various colors of the fireworks you didn't know were going off, neither has he. You want to kiss him again.

"Wow," you both mutter in unison.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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[davidjrpalos]

hm I hope one thing my art also conveys is like, the softness of masculinity. sometimes I feel like with gay art there is this trap of portraying men as hyperfeminine or just taking how women are sexualized (which is a whole other thing I have thoughts about) and putting a man in place there instead, and it feels so ill fitting i end up receiving it in the opposite way it’s probably meant to be received if that makes sense..? anyway I’m not out to condemn others people’s artwork and self expression but a lot of popular types of portrayals of gay men just don’t really connect with me. For myself, I really love being/looking masculine but expressing myself as a person more softly/less domineering/a little sillier, while still not describing myself as feminine either (bc I genuinely don’t feel that way). Everyone has their own definitions of masculinity and I don’t particularly think it’s all stoicism and grit, but I definitely feel more in the middle of it than maybe at the full end of it. Obviously because it’s my artwork and I pull from my own experience, I mostly just want to portray what’s typically Not seen as gender nonconforming and show the lesser acknowledged aspects of it.

[anneapocalypse]

So. About Minfilia.

This one really got to me.

I don't think I've cried over a character death in this game like this since Haurchefant--both of whom, incidentally, I knew going in were going to die at some point, because I'd encountered spoilers well before I ever imagined I would play this game. (Having Ariane fall for both of them in turn was not the plan, it just happened along the way and felt right for her character, and the extra tragedy it ended up adding was a side effect but one that's become lode-bearing for her story in a lot of ways.)

So I'll say to start that given what the writers had to work with going into Shadowbringers, I think Minfilia's story ends about as well as it could have. The variant flow of time in the First, and specifically the fact that a century has passed there since she arrived, is vital to Shadowbringers' story. Minfilia was never meant to be an immortal being, nor did she want to be. And while there's probably an interesting AU in her becoming mortal again and returning home (and I could see myself writing something like that), that's a very involved concept that wouldn't have worked well with the story Shadowbringers was telling. So, her fate was sealed when she departed for the First. Furthermore the way she goes out is really thematically in line with the Scions as a whole, from Louisoix to Moenbryda to Papalymo: one person giving their life to contain an existential threat--not even to destroy it completely, but to slow the tide so that others can carry on the fight. And Minfilia even takes it a step further, managing to stick around in some form long enough for the other Scions to make it to the First. The Warrior of Light even gets to see her one last time, so her promise to return to them when her work was done--it wasn't an empty one. We get to say goodbye.

I'm okay with this. It's a decent end to her story, given where we started from this expansion.

That doesn't make me especially okay with how we got here, though.

I am still a sprout here, having just started playing last year and being mid-Shadowbringers for the first time now. I was not around when ARR was new, and cannot speak to the fan reception of Minfilia at the time. I have heard through my grapevine, however, that she was not well-liked. Whether because she was a non-combat character, a quest-giver in an annoying location, a woman who told people to do stuff while wearing a mildly revealing outfit (and I do mean mildly)... Idk what the dealbreaker was. That's just what I've heard. Having heard that, though, it makes the choice to write her out at the end of ARR feel... motivated, in a way that maybe it otherwise wouldn't.

There is nothing meaningfully wrong with Minfilia's character in ARR that couldn't be said about any of the core Scions.

Wahhh I don't want to return to the Waking Sands for the 80th time? Fair, but that's a game design issue getting taken out on a character who happens to be connected to it. Call it the Preston Garvey Problem. Her outfit is silly? It's hardly meaningfully sillier than other NPC outfit designs, or Final Fantasy fashion generally. Go tell it to the catgirls in the 2b tights by the aetheryte. She doesn't even fight? Honestly kind of refreshing to me to see non-combat characters play a major role in the story, because fighting isn't the only thing that drives stories! (Hey, didn't Tataru have a whole subplot about that?)

She's underdeveloped? Name me a character who gets great character development in ARR. (There is a correct answer to this question. It's Cid Garlond. 😛) But the Scions? A handful of them feel like very well-rounded characters now because they've had whole expansions that explored them as people and deepened their relationship to the setting and story in meaningful ways--Lyse, Alphinaud, Alisaie, Urianger, Y'shtola, Thancred. But none of them are well-rounded in ARR. ARR is not about character development. It's basically a very long tutorial level that gets you acquainted with the world, its major conflicts, and the major players in those conflicts. The character-driven storytelling really starts with Heavensward. If we truncated all the Scions' stories at the end of ARR, I don't think the others are any deeper than Minfilia.

I liked Minfilia right off because she was kind and caring, and she had an obvious talent for bringing people together, probably in a similar way to Louisoix himself. Hence her becoming the Antecedent and continuing to do diplomatic work across three nations. Did she make mistakes? Yeah, absolutely. Lest anyone is tempted to single her out in the Crystal Braves disaster, though, I will point to what I said in my post about how the Scions failed Alphinaud: every adult in the room should have seen the red flags about that, and not one of them did, including Urianger who is extremely protective of the twins, and Thancred who is extremely protective of Minfilia. And yes, she was in charge, and she does bear a greater share of the responsibility. But whatever you think of that plot point, whether it's leaning a little too heavily on Rule of Stupid or whether believable for a group of idealistic apocalypse survivors with martyr complexes, it's written as something that all the Scions failed to foresee. And for the others, especially for Alphinaud, that mistake and subsequent disaster is used as an opportunity for character growth. Alphinaud has to confront his own arrogance, which drives his character growth as he continues to play a major role in every expansion. Yda/Lyse and Papalymo get themselves involved with the Ala Mhigan resistance, providing the setup for Stormblood and a tremendous amount of character development for Lyse. Y'shtola in desperation turns to darker and more dangerous forms of magic, setting us up for her transformation into a black mage in Shadowbringers where will continue to see her turn to dangerous magics at desperate times. Thancred's wilderness survival journey precedes us getting to see a darker and lonelier side of him. And so forth.

Minfilia throws herself on Hydaelyn's mercy, and gets tempered. I mean, carried unto her bosom, granting her a strength long sought. Because of course we're meant to take it as a given that she was weak before. She was the leader of an international organization who did diplomatic work across three nations, but she couldn't throw fireballs or hit people good with a stick, so. She loses her very will for a while there, until Hydaelyn mercifully decides she's strong enough to give it back to her.

And now, no one talks about the work she did as the Antecedent, or with the Path of the Twelve before that. It's all about her noble sacrifice, how she gave up her whole life to save the First. And she was noble, and generous, and a hero. But she was a person before that, and she could have been more. She could have been a character with a real arc, who got to struggle and learn from her mistakes and grow with us, as the others have.

Minfilia didn't get that. She got to be a sacrificial vessel for the salvation of others, over and over again until there was none of her left. And we never have to reckon with her feeling scared or uncertain or angry about this, because she is always the willing sacrifice, always noble and generous and a hero. Shadowbringers spends far more time on Thancred's feelings about Minfilia than on Minfilia's feelings about her own fate. And I do like Thancred, so please don't read this as me hating on him; I even liked getting more of their history onscreen, at first. But at a certain point I just wanted to shake him and say, You are not the only one who loved her! And your feelings about her are not the only thing that matters here!

I love characters who are deeply and deliberately kind, especially when they have a history that gives them plenty of reasons to be otherwise. I love characters with a passion and drive to make their world better, even when that comes at great cost. It's why I love Julie Farkas, and Vanessa Kimball. But I also like to see how they reckon with the cost, how they struggle with the burden of that kindness. I love it when Kimball loses her temper, when she isn't patient and virtuous all the time. We do finally get some of that with Ryne. But not for the original Minfilia. She goes gently into that good night with gentle words and a gentle smile. And yes, after a hundred years, she has earned a rest.

But having loved her gentle soul from the beginning, I am mourning what she could have been, if she had ever been allowed to be anything else.

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

The 11th and final chapter of the reincarnation au! Thank you for the support! I will be reposting it to ao3 this Sunday.

@daboyau

@rottmnt-background-screenshots

Mikey felt soft petting on his hair, which clued him in that he was in a dream memory.

He heard a heavy sigh above him. It sounded like it was Tomo. He couldn’t see anything, which probably meant he was pretending to still be asleep.

“Honestly, what am I going to do with you? Still eating too much and falling asleep on me at your age.”

There’s a pause, as if he stopped talking to see if Kosuke would wake up and respond.

When he didn’t, Tomo kept talking. This time it was in a more gentle tone. Probably to avoid waking him up now that he thought he was sleeping.

“I feel lucky that you still do that. Even with years alongside two other people who indulge you….it’s me you fall asleep on. Is it on purpose? Those kinds of questions feel silly to ask you when you’re conscious.”

It’s silent for a minute or two.

“There’s a lot of silly things I wish I could say. I should be sillier from time to time. What do you remember more about me when I’m not around? What do I want you to remember me as?….I wonder all the time how Haru remembered me, saw me. I never left her side so she didn’t have to just remember me for long. Is it selfish of me to want you to have to just remember me? If I’m gone, and you’re not, that means I did something right.”

More silence.

“Ugh, I’m sounding like Aoi. Thank the gods you’re asleep. I’d truly be dying of embarrassment.”

Mikey expects to open his eyes soon so that Kosuke can embarrass Tomo or at least stop him before he buries himself even deeper.

Instead, the comfortable pause suddenly brings a feeling of complete and utter unease. The quiet is strange now, unfamiliar.

When he opens his eyes, he’s suddenly face to face with Krang. The breath would be knocked out of his lungs if they didn’t already feel like they were burning.

The land all in front of him was scorched. His arms were outstretched, he could see that pink, gooey globs were burning into his clothes and skin.

That’s what happened to his clothes.

He hears an extremely pained scream behind him. He glances to the source and sees Tora pulling Tomo away. Aoi wasn’t there, and Tora’s mask was gone.

He could see the intense pain and fear in their eyes. Something had already happened.

A death, probably.

Another one was about to happen.

The screaming blurs in his ears with his own as he wakes up. Tears had already viciously wet his cheeks.

“Mikey! What’s wrong!?” Donnie was holding him by the shoulders.

Mikey hugs him tightly as he sobs into his shoulder.

“K-Kosuke, he was…I was about to…!”

Donnie’s face pales as he hugs him back even tighter.

Everyone else comes rushing in, asking what was going on.

“He almost saw his death.”

Splinter, Raph and Leo tense.

“What do we do? He was seeing it by himself! We gotta do this together if that’s what we’re gonna see.” Raph insists.

Leo takes out his weapons and stares at them.

“Don’t let me down, Aoi. You know where we need to go.”

The swords light up in response.

Leo swings them and opens up a portal. It takes them all to a village that time had not been kind to. It, and the area surrounding it, had signs everywhere that it was cursed.

Leo knows deep down it’s for the same reason the key was considered cursed.

The Krang.

“Is….this the place….?” Mikey trails off as he sees the giant crater nearby.

“Yeah. This…..was our last stand. I think this will be it. We see what happened here….and we’re done.” Leo explains.

Everyone else stares at him.

“Are you all sure you’re ready? This may be too much.” Splinter says with slight panic.

Mikey wipes his eyes.

“If….if we have to see it….now is better than just waiting for it to happen.”

“I concur. We can’t have another near miss. We got lucky about Mikey.” Donnie adds.

Raph gently pats Splinter’s shoulder.

“We’ll be okay, pops. Just one more time and it’s done.”

Splinter touches Raph’s hand and nods.

The turtles soon begin taking their positions in the area. Splinter stood aside slightly away from them, nervously watching.

Slowly, the world dissolved away for the four of them into a war filled nightmarish dream.

They stood together with one of their arms out in front of them. Kosuke watched as their force of allies bought them time, getting brutally slaughtered for their efforts.

Finally, finally, the key was created. The Krang was being sucked inside and there was just complete relief all around.

The army even began celebrating.

Aoi smiled widely and looked over at Tora. His face immediately dropped, as did his hand as he rushed forward.

Tora was incredibly confused until she was grabbed and thrown onto the ground under him.

Her mask breaks, a pink spiky tentacle inches away from her face proved to be why.

More sharp tentacles were around Aoi. They triangular left cuts on his arms and legs.

The tentacle that had broken her mask had also pierced through Aoi’s good eye.

Leo felt himself separate from the memory. Aoi wasn’t alive anymore, he couldn’t see it through his eyes. What he saw now was probably filled in with everyone else’s memories.

Tora screamed something visceral. It was more than just sadness, than heartbreak, and worse than any scream Leo had ever heard before.

He wished he could change it, but it was set in stone way too long ago. It’s the only reason he’s seeing it.

There was also the worst kind of deja vu.

The way Aoi was positioned was exactly how Raph saved him from the Krang. It’s what could have happened, if history repeated itself.

“Tora….I’m so sorry.”

Leo nearly jumped a foot in the air hearing that voice to his left side.

To his absolute shock, it was Aoi.

“It’s not easier either way. Trust me, I know.”

Leo nearly jumps again when he sees a grizzled version of him to his right. He was missing an arm, his sword had his brothers’ masks on it, his chin was huge-

Oh god.

Future him?

“How….what….?” Leo questions.

“Don’t think about it too hard, but ninpo is connected in a lot of different ways.” Future Leo answers.

“This is the craziest thing that has ever happened to me and we all know I faced chewed bubble gum aliens.”

“Real funny joke, kid. We showed up here for a reason.”

“Why? Why….now?”

He feels hands on both his shoulders.

“Because there’s something you need to know now more than ever.”

“And that is?”

“Neither of us hate you or who you became.” Aoi states.

“You….don’t?”

“Of course we don’t. Growing up made me realize I was, and you were, just a dumb kid.”

“Jeeze, that makes me feel soooo much better.”

“Alright wise ass, knock it off and let me finish. It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault. Warren and Hypno are the ones who stole the key in the first place and the Foot was dumb enough to use it. All you did was mess up a mission you didn’t even know was that important. If you knew, we wouldn’t have tried to show off like that. You made mistakes. You learned. You did what I couldn’t. You saved Casey for me too. You went above and beyond, kid. I’m proud of you.”

Leo feels himself tearing up.

“I’m sorry you had to grow up a bit kind of fast with what happened to you. At the same time….it’s so nice to see that you really got to be a kid. You gave that Krang hell! You….did what had to be done and you still came back.” Aoi adds.

“You have your family. You have your friends. You have your life. There’s no shame in feeling upset despite all that. Do your best and try to be happy if you can. If you can’t, you have people you can rely on.” Future Leo smiles.

Leo wipes his eyes.

“Thank you. But….am I going to have to watch all this?”

“It’s tough, but….if you watch it, he gets to see what happens too. He didn’t get to.” Future Leo glances at Aoi.

Leo also looks at Aoi who was watching what was unfolding in front of them all.

Tomo started dragging Tora out from under Aoi. She hadn’t stopped screaming. The Krang pulled Aoi’s body back and Tora struggled heavily to try to reach it again.

Kosuke could only stare in absolute terror and heartbreak.

“We….Tora, we have to go.” Tomo said with strain.

He didn’t want to leave him.

“No! We can’t leave him! Aoi! AOI! ANIKI!!” Tora screeched.

She didn’t either.

Aoi’s body was fully taken away.

Kosuke picked up the key, his hands shaking so hard he thought he might drop it.

“They’re coming! The army isn’t going to hold them off for long! If they get the key, all the others will come back! A-And….Aoi will have died for nothing.”

Tora finally stops struggling and screaming.

“Even if we fail….he never died for nothing! He died for me!” She angrily takes the key from Kosuke.

Kosuke frowns heavily but the three of them take off.

They had to find somewhere safe to leave it. Somewhere it wouldn’t be found by them anytime soon.

The Krang didn’t stop for even a second to chase after them. Even though most were taken into the key, there were still enough to be a lot of trouble.

Especially one that was hurdling projectiles at them.

They’d never make it if something wasn’t done.

Mikey realizes the area they’re about to enter. The scorched place he had seen before.

This is where he dies.

Kosuke stops and stares at his family for a second. Then, he turns towards the impending monsters, holding his arms out at them.

Tomo and Tora don’t get extremely far before realizing that he wasn’t running with them.

Tomo starts trying to run back to him, but a projectile hits Kosuke. The pink burns at his skin, which is already a death sentence. There was no way to stop it.

Kosuke began building up his mystic energy, powering through as more projectiles hit him.

Tomo screams.

It’s Tora’s turn to hold him back. She feels instant guilt that she was angry at Kosuke. It was going to be the last thing she told him.

No.

It didn’t have to be.

Tora screams too.

“I LOVE YOU!”

Tomo stops screaming in slight shock at not thinking of doing that sooner.

Kosuke looks back at them with a smile.

“I love you both too!”

He turns away right after, running and jumping at the Krang projectile monster. He shoves a mystic power ball into its mouth which blasts it apart.

Tora and Tomo use this opportunity to get away.

Mikey separates from Kosuke as Leo had done before.

He’s surprised at seeing Aoi and future Leo next to Leo.

He checks near him, seeing Kosuke and a future him as well.

“I HAVE HAIR!? Ohmigosh I’m so old-“

Future Mikey doubles over in laughter.

“I haven’t heard myself talk like that in…..forever! Never change, little me.” He pats his head.

Mikey smiles and the glances at Kosuke. Kosuke looks back at him and smiles back sadly.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. That memory went a little out of control.”

“It’s okay. I know none of you would mean for us to get hurt.”

“Of course not…..seeing how much you love each other, how loved you are….it’s all I could ever ask for. I want you all to have all the time in the world together.”

“Yeah, that’s all I ever wanted too.” Future Mikey sighs.

“About what happened to you…..” Mikey trails off.

“We went in pretty similar ways. You though, you figured it out. Not bad for the baby of the group.”

Mikey smiles proudly.

Future Mikey moves his hand away.

“It’s not so bad, being babied a little. It’s something I missed all the time. We gave Raph such grief when he just thought he was protecting us….and then, he just wasn’t around anymore. Independence is great, just…..make sure to indulge him too. He’s not that much older. He likes to have fun and not take things seriously. Help him out a bit to do that, okay? He….won’t be around forever.”

Mikey nods, his heart aching at remembering how close he was to losing him.

“Babying him back would be the perfect revenge.” Kosuke chuckles.

Mikey hugs him.

Kosuke hugs him back.

“Thank you, Mikey. You’re one of the most blessed people I ever could have ever become.”

“You were blessed too.”

Kosuke sniffles.

“Yeah. Yeah I was.”

Tomo and Tora ran far and fast. They ended up at a familiar village, the one where the graves were near.

They were able to rest there for several hours. Neither of them talked much. It was mainly just holding each other and trying so hard to think of what to do next.

No great ideas really came to mind.

Then, just like that, the Krang found the village. People were being attacked from left and right.

Tomo was full of pain and understood they were running out of options.

He told Tora to help the villagers escape while he took care some of the Krang.

She begged him not to. Without him, there would be no one left in their family. One person couldn’t make a family.

He assured her that as long as she’s alive, then their family is too.

He held her face in his hands and kissed her forehead before leaving her behind.

She felt like her heart lost yet another piece. Her soul felt so completely torn, and yet, she couldn’t ignore what he wanted her to do.

Deep down there was a realization that he couldn’t handle her dying. Not a sister, not again.

Especially after his brothers were already gone.

But by the gods did it hurt her too.

She helped everyone else get away while he pretended to have the key.

Because they thought he had it, they didn’t kill him right away. He was taken away back to near where Kosuke had died.

When they found he didn’t have the key, they tried to torture him for information. They whipped him, shredding the back of his top and his skin.

The Krang had found some blocky pieces of iron and heated them up, pressing it to his arms and legs.

He held out for as long as he possibly could. The trauma to his body was too much for it in the end.

His last thoughts were hoping Tora would live a long life, and that he’d see Haru again.

Like the others, Donnie separated from Tomo.

He fell onto his knees, coming face to face with Tomo and his future self who were sitting in front of him.

“…..You owe me lottery ticket numbers.” He deadpans.

“I would give them to you if they still existed after the world ended.” Future Donnie stares down at him.

“Fair point. So, is there wisdom you’re trying to give me right after I witnessed my own death?”

“Not wisdom. Gratitude. April…..Haru, you encouraged her to be who she is. She’s so free, and….you connected me with her again. All of this was a miracle, this ninpo. Her being included in that….it’s beyond even that.” Tomo says gratefully.

“She never would have stopped fighting until it happened. It’s who she is.”

“I suppose I have to agree.” Tomo smiles.

“I do have one thing to say. Stop trying to make tech seem like all you have. Our genius is more than that, clearly.” Future Donnie advises.

“We did just fine without it. We were enough and we’re enough now.” Tomo adds.

“Hmph….well, I can’t reject that statement. We rad.” Donnie smirks.

Tomo looks back at Tora’s memory, the last one still going on.

Tora buried empty graves. She didn’t know where their bodies were in the end.

She at least wanted people to know they existed.

Her life was a long one. Much longer than even normally expected. It was spent trying to keep the world safe.

Her heart never truly healed.

At the end, she hid the key as best she could with a mystic protection barrier that would last years at the least.

It was all she could do.

When Raph separated from her, the pain and loneliness continued. His breathing was heavy. This feeling was actually familiar.

Was this where his savage mode came from?

He felt circles being rubbed into the back of his shell.

“It’s going to be okay. You’re not alone. Your family is waiting for you.” Tora insists.

Raph’s breathing hitches in surprise.

“Tora?”

“Yes. Looks like I got what I wanted. Big, strong, and the oldest. Not bad. It seems we’re going to be even bigger later.” She points up and to the side.

Raph looks over and his eyes widen.

His future self must have been at least 7 foot.

“I’m huge!”

“Heh, they don’t call us the biggest brother for nothin. Or….they did.”

“You…..how did you uh….”

“Holdin back the Krang while everyone else got away.”

Raph understands that there really wouldn’t even any other way.

Tora sighs.

“It’s bittersweet. I wish I could have done that too. I….I’m so happy that you did. I’m so happy that you could take care of them all. You protected them in a way I couldn’t.”

“Hey. They didn’t give us much choice. You’re me too. What I do is what you did. And you did something so tough….you lived. You did it alone. You kept people safe from the Krang. You don’t have to be alone anymore either.” Raph points at the others.

“Y-You’re here? You’re all here!” Tora runs to her siblings.

They run just as fast, meeting in the middle to hug each other. They all begin happily sobbing.

“That’s a great thing you just did.” Future Raph smiles.

“I don’t really know how I did it, but I’m happy too.” Raph smiles back.

“Just take it easy once in a while, alright big guy? You’re gonna be like me one day and have wrinkles a mile long. The Raph chasm is a heavy burden to carry. You don’t have to carry it all yourself either.”

“I swear after this I’m going to sleep for 2 days. You’ve got some people waiting for you too, though.”

Future Raph stares at his brothers.

The future turtles all walk over to each other.

Future Leo and Mikey were teary eyed as they smiled at future Raph and Donnie.

“Took you guys long enough. Just dying to be here?” Future Leo jokes.

Future Mikey, Raph and Donnie all groan loudly in annoyance but they all start laughing right after.

It had been way too long since they could enjoy one of his stupid puns.

The present turtles watch the two groups reuniting. It felt good for this to be happening.

They see the future turtles start walking off first. They say their goodbyes as they vanish into the ninpo, joining the Hamato ancestors.

Next was Tora, Tomo, Kosuke and Aoi. They started walking too until Tomo stopped and looked back for a moment.

A girl ran towards him, grabbing his hand. Tears began falling down his face immediately.

Haru.

He excitedly introduced her to his family who welcomed her with open arms. Everyone else suddenly looked younger as well. The age the turtles first saw them as.

They happily also joined with the ancestors.

The turtles woke up, laying on the ground and staring up at the sky.

They could hear their father calling out to them.

Slowly, they got up and began walking over to him.

Mikey gently tapped Raph’s hand, shyly asking to be carried on his shoulders.

Raph couldn’t be happier.

Everything had finally come to an end.

It was all over.

[acaplaya-musings]

Voiceplay Visuals: ACA Top 10 80s Cartoon Themes

(This is the 5th post I'm writing in one day (using Tumblr's Schedule feature), I'm having too much fun)

I'm not actually super familiar with all of the cartoons featured in this video (I'm a Gen Z Aussie who didn't have cable for most of my childhood, don't @ me), but I've at least heard of most of them or I know later iterations of the franchises. And also I'm not here to talk about the songs, I'm here to talk about the video (released in March 2018) itself! Let's go!

Back at it again with the themed T-shirts! Eli is wearing a Scrooge McDuck/Ducktales shirt, Earl is apparently wearing an Ultimate Warrior shirt? (shoutout to a reaction video I watched for pointing that out), J is wearing a TMNT shirt, Geoff is wearing a Transformers shirt, and Layne is wearing a Rainbow Dash/My Little Pony shirt

Look at all the 80s stuff in the background! Somebody had fun putting that all together, for sure.

Also shoutout to Eli's fingerless gloves and the sunglasses on his head; he is looking very cool 👌

(Also Geoff is basically doing The Least with his outfit here out of the 5 of them, but he's nothing if not consistent 😂 (literally he seems to be either Go Big or Do The Least when it comes to outfits for videos like this, but I say this all in good fun, and I still love him)

J with the fun props, Layne with the fun sound effects! (Also Inspector Gadget is one I am at least vaguely familiar with - I watched quite a lot of Hanna Barbera cartoons when I was quite young, and Looney Tunes/Merry Melodies as well!)

Eli with the eyebrow raise! Again! (I'm gonna have to start keeping count honestly 😂) (And J being even sillier 😄)

Eli, Earl, and J yet again being "class clowns", during the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles section, with the action poses, karate moves, and J pointing excitedly to his shirt 😂

Geoff takes lead on the GI Joe section (why do I feel like he probably watched that a lot as a kid?), so it's as good a time as any for me to do another "hair examination" (since this is about 9 or so months after the Moana Medley)

(These aren't the neatest drawings I know, but they're not meant to be something I spend a lot of time on).

I swear his hair looks longer here than it does in the next two videos Voiceplay uploaded after this one, but I guess we shall just have to see if I'm right or not!

Wait hang on a moment, if Eli, Earl, and J are sitting on a couch, does that mean Geoff and Layne are sitting on the floor? 😂 (guess I can't laugh too much, I often choose to sit on the floor myself)

Love Earl and Eli's bouncing up and down at the start of the Gummi Bears section, very fun and I was doing it along with them!

"When you need help just call!"

...No words needed. Screencaps don't do it justice, but you get three of them anyway!

Again, not meant to be talking about the music arrangement here, but I have to give a shoutout to the Transformers theme song, because I was never into Transformers growing up, like at all, but that was pretty dang epic.

Another shorter post, but my next few posts will most likely be longer, so stay tuned!

[isabelguerra]

you ran the wizard au right? i remembered i used to love the worldbuilding!!!! and the fic series (both if them) were sooo fun, if you ever wrote more i know id read it 👉👈…. so um i know there was a triwiz tournament year, did u ever come up with outfits for the yule ball? i love fashion and am really interested in hearing what you’d have everyone wear haha. thank you for answering!!!

SIGH. yeah that was me i ran the hogwarts au. i cannot run from my past i just gotta embrace it. anyway im super touched to hear u liked my au… my feelings around it are super conflicted but even though i dont talk abt it much it was really sweet hearing how much you liked it. so yes. yes i did come up with yule ball outfits, for the triwizard tournament arc in their 6th year, which i will share for u bc u asked so sweet 

first off: my biggest gripe with yule in canon was how boring it was. these are fucking wizards. i was not going to let that shit get away with black robed suits and prom dresses i wanted full ass met gala-level Extra, while still staying faithful to the characters tastes and personalities. so i ended up looking at a bunch of runway couture! heres what i came up with: 

isabel, as the heir to the prestigious guerra family name, quidditch captain, brightest witch of their year, and max (hogwarts champion)’s date (they went together for appearances as bffs and bc neither of them got actual dates), had a lot of pressure on her shoulders socially. i wanted her 2 have something she could feel natural in but a little restricted by, as she likely had her dress chosen for her rather than chose it herself. so she likes it but it reflects her wizarding world status more than her actual personality. it also goes 2 be said that the night before yule she stayed up hand folding a bunch of paper cranes and butterflies for her dress that would fly around her all night. loved Teuta Matoshi, Joanne Flemming bridal, and vintage Costarellos designs 4 her

max was hogwarts champion that year obviously which means he had to have the most swag out of anyone. obviously. i was super into butch lesbian max when i made this so his inspos were primarily womens suits. he was the only one i let have a black outfit bc i cant see him being super fashionably flashy. vibe i went for was ‘shiny goth swag’, which Isabel Marant SS2020 and D&G pre-Fall 2020 really hit the nail on the head

ed was probably the most fun+ easiest. i just dressed them weird. also idk if i mentioned this but ed and rj went to yule together lol? #nonbinaryswag. my fav look for them was #1, D&G Spring RTW 2020. i love that shiny suit. i do also think he’d fuck it up in the dress at the end though

isaac i went so ridiculous with isaac you know he’d be so extra. Balmain FW2016 really pulled through with the velvet fabrics, squared shoulders, and gold accents. my other looks were Louis Vuitton Fall 2020, which were a bit sillier but i still loved for him

spender fucks it up in a chadwick boseman met gala 2018. he does not pull it off as well but what can u do 

EXTRAS bc idk if u just meant outfits for Just the main cast or for everyone. so here’s some bonus outfits for other cast members :-)

johnny is one of the few muggle-born wizards i chose from the cast, so his outfit would’ve reflected that slight displacement and more attunement to the human world. i loved 2 joke w my friends that getting johnny in ANY fancy outfit would be hard, and even if u could get him in one he’s still wear his iconic ratty leather jacket over his nice clothes anyway. so johnny got two pics: one from Balenciaga Spring 2018 (love the dorky high waisted pants and patterned red dress shirt combo), and another from Coach Spring 2017 (love the jacket). he also deffo charmed his hair to Literally Be On Fire until one of the professors told him to put it out. he also let loose a racoon in the venue while nobody was looking.

stephen 100% hamish bowles met gala no further comment

rj showed up w/ ed looking like this

[toweringclam]

On elks and gorillas

One of the strangest trends in silver age DC comic books was putting gorillas on the cover. For some reason, gorillas tended to sell, and DC would often create the covers before the comics. Thus there are a ton of Silver Age stories where superheroes fight evil gorillas. A few of those gorillas have stuck around, including Monsieur Mallah, the Ultra-Humanite, and, perhaps most famously, Gorilla Grodd.

Grodd is one of the Flash's greatest villains, posing as the Lex Luthor to his Superman. He hails from a secret gorilla city deep in the jungles of Africa where he's basically their only criminal. He was exiled, one thing led to another, and now he's one of the most storied villains of the DCU.

Setting aside the fact that that is very, very dumb (complementary), there's some unfortunate implications to this story. From Tarzan to Congo to the freakin' Mario Movie, the idea of a secret ape city is pretty ingrained in our culture. But it comes from some pretty damn racist and colonialist tropes. After all, Europeans saw Africans as little more than apes, so why not have an actual ape city? It's also very, very dumb (derogatory) in that it assumes that there aren't any "real people" living there who would notice a whole city of psychic gorillas. I wanted to put some reference to Grodd in my work, but at the same time, I want to avoid those problematic and even actively harmful tropes.

Enter Emyr Elk.

Emyr is an old Welsh name meaning "King," probably unrelated to the similar word for Arabic rulers. So basically King Elk. Elks were a joke for a while in Magic after the whole Oko fiasco ("Bold words for a 3/3 elk"), so I thought....why not give them their due? And after a friend of mine told me about the Philadelphia deer, I thought that cervids might make an interesting recurring theme.

He's basically Grodd, swapping out psychic powers for necromancy and gorilla for elk. After being exiled from his city for being a big jerkface, he has now decided to make himself some random superhero's problem. They have a bit more of a connection since Jack is also cervid-themed, but it's still your basic Grodd-like.

Now instead of a secret gorilla city in the African jungle, we have a secret elk city in the northern taiga. One of these sounds significantly sillier than the other, but only because of nearly a century and a half of racist tropes.

When I turned to my partner and said, "Elk are the new gorillas," he understood exactly what I meant, and was terrified.

He then tried to convince me (with reasonable success) that Canadians avoid saying the word "moose" like ancient indo-europeans avoided the original word for "bear," but that's another story.

(Edit: Shortly after posting this I realized that this could be seen as applying the same tropes to arctic indigenous peoples, including but not limited to Samoyed and Inuit. I feel like there is less weight of stereotype behind it than the African city, but I'm open to criticism by anyone who may have real lived experience on the subject. At the very least I will be consciously avoiding any such cultural stereotypes with the Elks)

[dapandapod]

PANDAAAAAAA fuck me up with #19 from the hand holding list? Plz?

19. playing with each other’s fingers

Yes darling, of course!! I must admit, i want a second go on this one, because they are sillier than they are soft xD Thank you for prompting me! Please enjoy my silly darlings!

Send me a handholding prompt?

On Ao3 here Hand holding collection

The light and the shadows are playing out an intricate dance on the grass as the sun shines through the tree crown above.

The afternoon is mild, calm, and just perfect for taking a moment for yourself.

They are leaning against the tree, or more precisely, Geralt is leaning against the tree and Jaskier is sitting between his legs, resting against his chest.

It is warm and comfortable, if you ignore the ground being a bit hard. But sitting together like this in the ever-moving shade, it feels perfect.

Resting on his stomach are both of Geralt’s hands in his. He traces the knuckles, every line and scar, dipping into valleys between fingers, exploring the sensation of a ring on his finger.

They're performing a dance of sorts, but only their hands are participating. Jaskier turns one of Geralt’s hands over.

Geralt's newly freed hand goes rogue, sneaking towards the hem of Jaskier’s tunic in search of warm skin. It tickles, but Jaskier lets him.

He is busy studying the center of Geralt’s palm, supposedly the most protected part of the hand.

It should be, right? Since it grips the handle of swords and bows, hiding and protecting secrets.

But there, on the bottom left, Jaskier finds a scar. A thin, jagged thing, turned white with age.

He knows what happened at this point, hell he was probably even there when it happened.

Jaskier brings it up to his lips and kisses it, enjoying the huff of amusement at his back.

“Should you really be doing that? Who knows where it’s been,” Geralt mumbles directly into his ear. It sends little shivers through him every time; he will never tire of Geralt’s voice.

“I know exactly where it’s been, witcher dear,” Jaskier tells him, now tracing lines that are not scars at all, but creases in the skin.

Lifeline, his mother used to call one of them. Loveline, another. There are so many lines to be found in a hand, and Jaskier loves them all.

“Though it still smells a little bit like onion. What are you even doing to your poor, poor hands? I haven’t seen an onion in weeks!”

Geralt snorts and pinches the soft skin of his hip in revenge.

“Might be from the stink of your feet.”

“Don’t you dare put this on me. You decided on that massage yourself, and I bathe way more often than you. And clean my socks.”

Laughing is rarely good or comfortable when cuddling, but oh, how he loves the sound of it.

It is making him bounce slightly, and he shifts until he is once more resting comfortably against Geralt, who props his chin on top of his head.

He is still holding one of his hands hostage, and now is touching his callouses.

“How are my callouses tougher than yours?” Jaskier muses.

“They’re not.”

“Yes they are. Here, touch mine. No, put that dirty thought out of your mind, you brute, my hand!”

The carefree way that they tangle and untangle now. A comfort formed by habit and practice alike, where it’s Geralt’s turn to hold Jaskier’s hands.

Jaskier’s hands don’t wear the same lines as Geralt’s. Fewer scars, to begin with, and he has always been meticulous about his skincare.

But the fingertips of his left hand are always a little rough. Have to be, to be able to handle the strings for hours at a time.

Geralt touches them and fits their hands together as if to compare hand size.

“See?” Jaskier says. “Way thicker skin. You could pinch me and I would feel nothing.”

“Is that so?” Geralt asks, amusement clear.

“Of course!” Jaskier brags, and then yelps when Geralt quickly pinches his thigh. “I meant my callouses, you bastard!”

“Plenty of skin here too,” Geralt teases.

“Is this how you woo people? Honestly Geralt, I hope you are open to some pointers.”

“Worked plenty well on you,” Geralt hums and kisses his temple.

“You are just lucky I speak your love language.”

“Oh yes, you are fluent in flirting. ‘Neck like a sexy goose’, I heard is really popular with the ladies.”

“Hmpf.”

Jaskier attempts to roll off and away, a very half hearted try, but it pays off. Immediately Geralt grabs hold of him, hugging him close and swaying them back and forth.

“You have such a beautiful neck,” Geralt mumbles, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “Like a sexy goose.”

“I hate you,” Jaskier complains with a big smile, enjoying the attention. Their hands find each other again, and they settle back against the tree once more.

“Oh yes,” Geralt says. “That is why you married me.”

Geralt lifts Jaskier’s hand, admiring their matching rings in the sunlight.

“Absolutely,” Jaskier agrees as he plays with their rings. “It was the only way to shut you up.”

“Funny. I was just going to say that about you.”

“You are lucky you are cute,” Jaskier mutters, closing his eyes as a wild ray of sunlight finds them.

“I’m lucky I have you,” Geralt amends, and their fingers lace together on Jaskier’s stomach once more.

“That you are, darling.”

“Humble bard indeed.”

A light breeze rustles the tree above them. The intricate dance of leaves and light begins once more.

As does the dance of fingers, tracing lines, scars, and rings.

[s1utspeare]

hohoHOOOOO whump time!!! if you’re feeling it I’m thinking “Walk then. Come on, walk towards me. I bet you can't even take a step” with pangsang (platonic romantic whatever dealer’s choice) bc they’re both so bitchy I can see either of them saying it lmao <33333

DINO YOU ARE!!! MY SOULMATE that's EXACTLY who i was thinking of for this prompt adhsligajldfkjsad. Anyway. This turned out a little sillier than expected, but enjoy the Them!!

Send me a prompt and some characters and I’ll write some whump!

"Walk then. Come on, walk towards me. I bet you can't even take a step."

So. They've been in worse situations before, although it's taking Pangzi a lot to think of any. It's taking him a lot to think of anything right now, that's how out of it he feels. He hates weird tomb dust. There's so much weird dust in tombs and usually it isn't even dust, it's like. Blood or dead tiny bugs or fucking poison or something, and then it gets in your eyes or on your skin and Xiao-ge has to make out with Tianzhen about it—no. No that's just normal activity. The tomb dust has nothing to do with that. Pangzi wonders if Xiao-ge will make out with him.

He won't, though, and Pangzi knows this because they're currently in a Tomb-Dust-Situation, and no one is making out with anyone. At least as far as he can tell. Tianzhen and Xiao-ge aren't in his direct line of sight anymore, so they could be making out somewhere where Pangzi can't see it, which is considerably inconsiderate.

The only person he can see right now is Liu Sang, who is currently scowling at his feet as though he's forgotten how they work. Which he probably has. He'll never admit it, but he was in front of Pangzi when the trap had gone off, which meant that his exposure to the stupid Dust was even greater than Pangzi's was.

He's still not entirely sure how it happened, but someone had set off a trap, which was either like a smoke bomb or something so old that it had crumbled into ash over the years, and he and Liu Sang had gotten lungfuls of it, while Tianzhen and Xiao-ge had been relatively safe from exposure. That's the only good thing, is that Tianzhen isn't in... whatever state they're in. As far as Pangzi can tell, the only thing the Dust is doing is making everything look very spinny and weird, and also making Liu Sang's hair pink.

He snorts, because Jinx would never dye his hair that color, and Liu Sang looks up at him in confusion.

"What?"

"Your hair," Pangzi says. "S'funny."

Liu Sang frowns. "Not."

"Is," Pangzi says, and because he's older, he knows he's right.

Liu Sang opens his mouth, but gets distracted by his own fingers. "Huh."

"Those're nice," Pangzi says, deciding that he should give Jinx a compliment, and his fingers are, admittedly, very nice. Pangzi thinks about his fingers a lot.

"Mm," Liu Sang says. He curls his hand into a fist, and then shrieks.

"What?!" Pangzi exclaims, trying to stand up so that he can protect Jinx from whatever it is that's scared him.

"They're gone!"

"What's gone?"

"My fingers," Liu Sang says miserably, staring down at his own hand. "They disappeared."

Pangzi blinks at him. Yeah, Jinx definitely swallowed more Dust than he did. "Open your hand."

It takes Liu Sang a minute, but he does eventually, and then gasps in delight. "Oh!"

"Told you," Pangzi mutters. wondering where Tianzhen and Xiao-ge have gone off to. He remembers them saying something about going to get backup, or supplies, or some shit, but that could be his brain making things up again. It wouldn't be the first time dust has caused that.

He catches Liu Sang staring at him quizzically. "Why are you looking at me?"

"Where're yours?" Liu Sang asks suspiciously.

"My what?"

"Yours," Liu Sang repeats, holding up his hand and wiggling his fingers.

"Oh," Pangzi says, and then has to do a great deal of looking around in order to find his own fingers, which turn out to be at the ends of his arms. "Right here."

Liu Sang nods, satisfied, and then turns to someone else. "Where're yours?"

"Who're you talking to?" Pangzi asks, squinting to Liu Sang's right, and suddenly sees a blob that morphs into Wu Xie. "Tianzhen!"

"Hi," Tianzhen says, looking amused, which Pangzi has no idea why that could be. The only funny thing is Jinx's hair, and they already went over that. "My fingers are here, Liu Sang." He holds out his hand, and Liu Sang takes it in his own, nodding very seriously at the presence of fingers.

"You know whose fingers are nice?" Pangzi says dreamily. "Xiao-ge."

"His fingers are nice," Tianzhen agrees, and Pangzi always knew he was smart.

Liu Sang, meanwhile, is glaring at him like Pangzi's eaten the last chocolate protein bar, which he has not. "Where'd you put him?" he demands, as if Pangzi has hidden his beloved ouxiang away somewhere.

"I didn't put him anywhere," Pangzi retorts. "Xiao-ge goes where he wants."

"Right now he's trying to disable the other traps," Tianzhen says cheerfully, which doesn't make Liu Sang look any happier.

As if on cue, Xiao-ge's voice floats down the tunnel towards them. "Wu Xie?"

"Coming!" Wu Xie says. "You two, don't move." He disappears down the corridor before Pangzi can tell him that he's never moved in his life, he's very good at not moving.

He's concentrating so hard on not moving that he almost doesn't notice when someone sniffles next to him, a watery breath escaping from them. He looks over to Liu Sang, who is staring at the space Wu Xie had once occupied, and seems to be trying very hard not to cry.

"What is it?" Pangzi asks.

"He's gone," Liu Sang says mournfully, one hand reaching out as if he's trying to touch a non-existant Wu Xie. "Where'd he go?"

"He went with Xiao-ge," Pangzi says, trying to be reassuring. "He'll be back."

That doesn't seem to cheer Liu Sang up at all. "Where'd he go?" he asks, more insistently this time, and a single tear rolls down his cheek, falling from his chin and making a little wet circle on his knee. His eyes are large and watery behind his glasses. "I don't want him to leave."

This is surprising, since all Liu Sang does is ask when the Iron Triangle is going to leave him alone, when he's going to get his life back, when he'll finally regain the peace and quiet he apparently hasn't had since they all fell under a beach together, but right now he's looking very worried that Wu Xie has suddenly gone away for good, and Pangzi knows that feeling.

The cure, as far as he's aware, is a hug, and since Tianzhen isn't here, Pangzi will have to make do. "C'mere," he says, opening his arms. "He'll be back soon."

Liu Sang wrinkles his nose. "I'm not hugging."

"You should," Pangzi insists.

"No."

"You're scared," Pangzi teases him. "You're scared of hugging Pang-ye."

"No," Liu Sang repeats, though he sounds more unsure of himself now.

"I bet you can't," Pangzi says, knowing that challenging him will make Liu Sang do whatever he can to prove him wrong. "I bet you can't come and give me a hug."

"I could if I wanted to," Liu Sang says haughtily, but Pangzi can sense the lack of confidence behind it.

"Mm," Pangzi says, "I don't think so. I don't think you could even walk over here if you wanted to."

"I could!" Liu Sang protests, his eyebrows furrowing in a way that's actually very cute, though Pangzi won't tell him that. Yet.

"Walk then," Pangzi says. "Come on, walk towards me. I bet you can't even take a step." His arms are still open, waiting, starting to feel a little stiff, but he's good at patience.

Liu Sang frowns at him, gauging the distance from his rock to Pangzi's, and then slowly, stutteringly, stands up, and puts one foot forward, then another. His eyebrows are stuck together in intense concentration, like they are when he maps out difficult tunnels.

The third step is the hardest, and Liu Sang wobbles, tipping forward. Luckily, three steps was all he needed, and so he just pitches forward into Pangzi's arms, his face smooshing against Pangzi's chest as he wraps him up tight, sighing in contentment at having a team member safe with him. Safe with Pang-ye. Yes.

"Good Jinx," he murmurs softly. "Nice, good Jinx."

"See?" Liu Sang says, muffled into Pangzi's shoulder, where he's not pulling away. "Told you I could do it."

[novelconcepts]

Prompt: Dani and Jamie first argument. Maybe the first time one of them sleeps on the couch (and doesn't sleep at all)

It’s such a stupid fight, Jamie thinks even as they’re having it. Such a stupid argument, she doesn’t quite know what kicked it off. Months and months on the road with Dani, months and months of learning all the little particulars of her--taste in music, dislike for repetitive tapping sounds, unpredictable sense of humor, awful propensity for replicating in private the accent of whatever state they’ve landed in today--and never once did they argue. Not really. She was beginning to think they never would--that Dani’s peculiar burden, her own peculiar resistance to logic, would keep them both safe from that which befalls all couples.

Silly. Silly to imagine, with the lovesick eyes of that honeymoon stage, and sillier now. The Dani she’d been met with at the start had been alternately strange and sad, hopeful and haunted, but she’d always been new. There’s a certain sweet charm that comes with novelty, making even the most irritating traits shine. Everything can be wiped clean with a kiss, when it’s new, or with wandering hands, or with a well-timed joke.

But months fade into more, and before she knows it, there’s nearly a year behind them. A year of them. A year of Dani’s smile growing stronger, of Dani’s hands shaking less, of her own belief that this is...good. Better than she could have imagined, letting her guard down. Better than anything she’s ever been granted in her life.

And now: 

Now a fight. Stupid. Small. Not like the closest they’ve come before now--Dani rolling her eyes at Jamie’s inability to make a bed, Jamie scoffing over Dani’s oddball methods of sorting laundry--but...stupid, nonetheless. She’d been tired. She’d snipped. Dani, unexpectedly, had snipped back.

And suddenly, they were arguing. Genuinely, for the first time, arguing--about Jamie’s tendency to shut doors, about Dani’s irreparable need to feign a smile. Both of them spotting that urge in the other which is so easily reflected in a mirror: to fix at all costs. To close off paths to darkness. To make it better, even if it means doing it in silence, or doing it alone.

Dani says, “If you’re going to keep walking away in the middle of a conversation--”

Jamie says, “Well, it’s not like you’re talking--”

It’s stupid. It’s silly. It shouldn’t be happening at all. Tired, she thinks. Tired, and it’s been raining for days, and the shop hasn’t been pulling the customers they’d expected this quarter. Dani has been quieter lately, it’s true, though not the way she’d been those first few weeks. Not the quiet of miserable baggage. Not the simple weariness of looking into the jungle for the eyes of a beast. 

Jamie can understand that. Jamie’s gotten good already at searching out those moments, at taking Dani’s hand--or leaving her to her peace--as needed. 

This, the normal of it all. This, she isn’t ready for. She’s never had a normal relationship, exactly; there had been bone shards and broken promises in the last one, and secrets tucked carefully away, and smiles that never met bright eyes. There had been a lot to unpack, to offer up on the altar of her own dignity. But normalcy? The normal edge of a woman’s voice when she’s just too tired to say the right thing? The normal cut of her own words when she’s just too off to play diplomat in response?

It’s new, and it’s weird, and it sits badly in her chest when Dani throws up her hands and says, “This isn’t getting us anywhere. I need a minute.”

She watches her stalk away, down the hall to the bedroom. Dani doesn’t slam the door. It almost makes it harder; if she’d done that, the intention behind the act would be clear, impossible to miss. If she’d done that, Jamie could piece it together: a shut door means keep out, means stay away, means don’t follow. 

The Dani who wakes from shuddering nightmares always wants her close.

The Dani who’d just shaken her head in exasperation? She can’t be sure.

A part of her wonders if this isn’t all her fault--if it’s the mark of a bad day she should have seen coming. She’s better about this, normally. She’s better at all of this. The woman who had just snipped and sliced, whose smile had been bitter-edged, isn’t unrecognizable; she’d known her so well from a year-old mirror. The woman who had threatened violence at every irritation. The woman who had grown thorns to prevent her own puncture wounds. Not a woman she’s ever been with Dani, really, but do these shadow parts of a self ever die? Has she tricked herself--tricked them both--into believing Dani’s love was enough to bury thirty years of habit in the ground?

Dani hasn’t shut the door, but she hasn’t come slinking back out with apology in her voice, either. And maybe that’s as it should be. Maybe that’s right. Hadn’t it been Jamie who had started it? She can’t be sure--there’s a strange fog around the conversation, an adrenaline-pumping, threat-level-high intoxication eating away at the memory already. Anger has a way of banishing good sense, and all detail along with it. Maybe she hadn’t started it, but she sure hadn’t let it die with a single snide remark.

And now, she thinks, sitting on the edge of the couch with a spreading unease, Dani can see. For good, for real, the bits of her she’d managed to hide away for a year. Dani can see the part of her she’d tried so hard to keep leashed since a meltdown in a rose garden.

Dani can see it, and doesn’t Dani carry enough? Isn’t Dani tired enough, without this added burden of someone else’s anger?

It’s not...peaceful. It’s rage. She shakes her head, presses a hand to her mouth, remembering the shiver in Dani’s voice. And maybe this hadn’t been rage, exactly--neither of them yelling, neither throwing things or landing harsh blows--but it hadn’t been peace, either. It leaves a sour taste in her mouth, a tremble in her legs, how little like them the evening has felt.

The door is open, but she can’t hear Dani moving around. Maybe she’s gone to bed. Maybe she’s decided enough is enough for one night. 

All right. It’s one night. What’s one night? There will be others--probably. Never any certainty to a thing like that, but she’s as near to sure as she can be. There will be other nights, and they’ll talk it through, but...not now. Not with Dani having left her here. Not with Dani sitting silent in the other room, probably letting her own anger twist around her like a shroud. 

The couch isn’t so bad. The knit blanket is too light for the spring chill, maybe, and the throw pillow is too small beneath her head, but she’s had worse. Years on a prison cot, for one. In comparison, this couch is paradise. 

A quiet paradise. 

A quiet, miserable paradise.

She exhales, reaching to switch off the lamp. One night. Admittedly, sleeping alone for the first time in a year feels wrong--incredible, how quickly she’s come to rely on the pressure of Dani’s arm around her middle, the soft brush of Dani’s breath against her shoulder--but she had started it. She’s almost certain now. She’d started it, and Dani had rightly left her to think on her mistake. Dani had rightly walked away and left her to mull it all over.

It works. It has always worked. Worked just fine back then, leaving a shadowed greenhouse for a few days to get her head on straight. Maybe Dani’s right about that tendency to shut doors, to lick her wounds in private. Maybe Dani’s right that it’s a habit too ingrown to break.

Probably. 

She’s too aware of everything--the breeze through the cracked window, the hum of the refrigerator, each creak-and-settle of the walls around her--in the dark. Too aware of how small she feels, stretched out beneath a thin blanket, her hands folded awkwardly on her stomach. Too aware of the way Dani had thrown up her hands, headed back down the hall, left her to pace the cage of her own stupid anger alone.

What was she even so upset about? That Dani had...what? Looked at her askance? Shaken her head? Not quite modulated her tone, and come out sounding as though the business taking a bit of a dip is Jamie’s fault? Dani hadn’t meant it like that. She’s sure neither of them had really meant any of it like it had come out--that, sometimes, words and tone get all muddied up and blow holes in things that ought to be strong enough to withstand any attack. Hadn’t they been over it and over it in therapy? That she needs to stop and breathe and calculate the intent, not the impact, of a person’s behavior?

Intent: mild irritation. A bad mood. Offense taken and dealt without really looking.

Impact: Dani in the bedroom. Her on the couch. Sleeping apart for the first time since leaving Bly. 

She closes her eyes. Tries to breathe. Tries to remember what it was like sleeping alone, all those months ago. Tries to remember how naturally it had come, stepping back from the others, going home to her own flat. 

That woman feels even further away than the one who’d used anger as armor. That woman feels too far to reach. 

“What are you doing?”

She jumps. Dani is standing in the hall, backlit by the bedroom light. Her expression is washed out, unreadable. 

“Sleeping,” Jamie says in a voice not quite calm, not quite stable. Dani makes a thin noise.

“On the couch?”

“You--” She sits up, clutching the blanket for support. “You said you needed space.”

“I said...” Dani takes a step nearer, and another. Her brows are drawn, Jamie can see now, her arms wrapped around herself as though for warmth. “I said I needed a minute.”

“Right.” This doesn’t feel like them. This feels even less like them than the argument had--because that, at least, had been petty and dumb. This feels too much like open water, uncharted, unexpectedly deep. “Wanted to respect that.”

“By sleeping on the couch.” Dani has stopped, still hugging herself, just out of reach. Jamie gropes up for the lamp, switching it on without looking. 

“Well...yeah. You said--”

“A minute, Jamie.” Is it her imagination, or is Dani trying not to smile? “You thought a minute meant the whole night?”

She doesn’t answer. Her throat is suddenly tight. Dani is looking at her, not with irritation, not with a fed-up grimace, but with a burgeoning smile. 

“Haven’t you ever had a weird spat with a girlfriend before?” 

Not trusting herself to speak, Jamie shakes her head. Not one like you. Not one carrying too much to manage. Not one I’ve fallen in--

“Well--neither have I, I guess.” Dani is almost grinning now, though there’s something jumpy about her eyes. Something like she’s trying, even now, to hide behind old habits. “That was...that was weird, right?”

“It was,” says Jamie carefully. She’s too off-kilter to read between the lines of Dani’s rictus grin. Too unbalanced to see what Dani is really trying to ask.

“It was weird,” Dani repeats, as if trying to convince herself. “And weird happens. Weird doesn’t mean...weird doesn’t mean we...”

Ah. There it is. She may have lain out here staring at the ceiling, parsing out her own guilt, but Dani was in there doing something worse. Dani was in that bedroom trying to determine how much of that fight was even her--and how much, maybe, belonged to a particularly weighty ghost.

She unfolds from the couch slowly, not sure if Dani is quite ready to be touched. She’s rocking a little, Jamie can see now, back and forth on her heels. Like she’s trying desperately to hold together. Like she’s coming ever-closer to unwinding. 

“Fights happen,” Jamie says. “Dumb ones, more’n most. I’m sorry for starting it.”

“You didn’t,” Dani says. “Did you?”

Her grin is loosening a little, the struts falling out along the way. In a minute, the whole thing is going to come down, and the expression waiting beneath will--Jamie suspects--look an awful lot like a woman freshly haunted. 

“I don’t know,” she says honestly, taking a hesitant step closer. “Does it matter? Sorry either way.”

“Me too,” Dani says, her voice small. “It was a--a bad day.”

“Yeah.” Her fingers are twitching at her sides, itching to reach out. Dani glances from her face to her hand, her smile flickering at last. 

“Can you, um. Can you come to bed anyway? Even if it’s not okay. Even if we’re--”

“We’re okay,” Jamie says, and knows it. Stupid, petty arguments full of bitter, petty words mean so little when stacked up to how Dani makes her feel. Even on bad nights, Dani makes her feel safer than anyone she’s ever known. 

She hopes Dani can say the same. Is determined, if Dani can’t yet, to make sure she leaves that exact legacy on Dani’s life. Safe. Secure. Loved. 

Dani is reaching out, pulling her close, her breath fast and sharp. “Can we make it a rule?” she asks into Jamie’s shoulder, her forehead pressing down hard. 

“What? Never go to bed angry?”

“Never go to bed apart.” With every stroke of Jamie’s hand across her hair, she seems to settle a little more. Seems to breathe a little easier. “You can be angry, I can’t--we can’t always help that. But come to bed anyway. Kiss me goodnight anyway. Can we make that promise?”

She sounds uncertain, and Jamie knows she’s remembering a final conversation with another person she’d loved. A last she hadn’t known was such until it was too late to take back. There hadn’t been room for forgiveness there, or apology, or a goodnight kiss. 

“Promise,” Jamie says, and knows it’s one she’ll keep faithfully to the end. However long they get. However much time. If they fight once a year or once a month, it won’t matter. Never go to bed apart. That’s doable. It’s the least she can do. 

“Does this mean,” Dani asks, voice muffled, “we’re official now?”

“Officially what?”

Dani shrugs one shoulder. She seems unwilling to remove her face from Jamie’s shoulder, to pull free of Jamie’s embrace. “I dunno. Isn’t this what real couples do? Argue?”

“Maybe.” She’s not sure either of them is standing on firm enough ground to say what real couples do, or don’t do, or shouldn’t do. She’s not sure relationships have enough ground rules to be drawn out and catalogued as such. 

What she is sure of is how Dani makes her feel. That she has, over the past months, been stepping closer and closer to a line. That she will, soon enough, tip over it into something that looks an awful lot like always. 

She could say it now. It might soothe Dani, to hear the words for the first time. But it wouldn’t feel quite right. Wouldn’t be quite what Dani deserves. It can wait. 

“I don’t think that part matters,” she says instead. “The arguing. I think the part that counts is what comes after.”

“Where I can’t stand five more minutes without you hugging me?” Dani sounds shaky, embarrassed. Jamie grips her a little tighter.

“That even when you want to throttle me, you still want me in that bed more.”

That, she thinks, is the mark of a relationship. Of their relationship, at least. Not the bickering. Not the silliness or the pettiness. The desire to make it right again as soon as it’s over. 

“Don’t like fighting with you,” Dani says. Jamie gives her a gentle shake. 

“I do hear it improves the sex.”

“I like the sex,” Dani says, almost sullenly, and Jamie laughs. 

“Well then. No reason to change things, is there?”

[snowbatmakesstuff]

Random question, but do you have any Motorcity headcanons you'd be willing to share? Like, not for any AUs or anything, but for the canon verse. Not that your AUs aren't amazing 'cause they all are. But I'd love to hear your take on canon. Only if you feel like sharing, though. :)

omg I have soooo many! I know I do a lot of work with AUs atm (no idea why they've taken over my life the way they have) but I think about canon A LOT. I definitely can go on and on but here are the first few that come to mind (both stupid and serious) Mike would call Julie 'kitten' romantically (I know this shows up in my Bridgerton inspired AU, but this is a straight across the board thing) Tooley defects to Motorcity. Not because he "believes in the cause" or anything like that, but because as Kane gets crazier, he'd just turn more to Red who shares his violent rages. We already know Tooley thinks Motorcity has cool parties (which they do) and that he and Texas get along - so I think it would only be a matter of time until his need for validation overtakes him and he ends up in Motorcity to hang out with the cool people. Naturally, he and Texas become chaos bffs Speaking of Red - I have a theory as to why he hates Mike to the extent he does. This one is a little more complicated but stick with me on this. Let's be honest, if the surface level story (which is one we only know from the bits and pieces Mike put together himself) was the whole thing, then he could hate Mike to the same degree, but there's no way in hell he'd work with Kane either. So... there has to be more to it. Something to do with Mike's direct actions. Kane may have been the catalyst but it all has to come down to what Mike did or DIDNT do. I think it wasn't the destruction of the building that really did it. The building wasn't what was important (after all, we've seen Kane destroy buildings all the time. Not to say that it wouldn't hurt or cause anguish, but sadly, this is probably something many Motorcitizens have already dealt with). The important bit was who was in the building. I think that when Mike was helping evacuate the building, as it was being demolished, he missed someone. And whoever that someone was, they didn't make it out, and that person meant a lot to Red (parent, sibling, lover, etc. take your pick here really). Red's hate doesn't come from his home being destroyed, but that, as far as he sees it, Mike is the direct reason he lost this person. Now imagine on top of that the horror Mike would feel upon learning this. Okay back to sillier ones as a palate cleanser: Chuck can rap when he's drunk. I know this is dumb and super specific, but I once knew this guy who was similar to Chuck and somehow, someway, he knew every word to the hardest rap songs. I just need you all to imagine this: frail, lanky guy. Totally unassuming. Gets tipsy and starts spitting out all of rap g-d without missing a beat. This is one we've kinda talked about before, but I think Julie is musically inclined. She and Mike are the only Burners who's lives are just the Burners/we don't see them with independent hobbies. Mike makes sense because he went straight from one army to another. But Julie? She had to do something before the Burners. We know that Kane has a media team (those commercials haunt me I swear) and he absolutely has the vibes of a guy who twists the arts into propoganda. There's no way Julie was a kid who was good with just sitting still and with Claire being her only estabished childhood friend/confidant, she'd need to be doing more than just existing. So Kane threw her into a bunch of Kane Co extra curriculars and music stuck. She spent years learning to play instruments and singing in the Kane Co. choir. Her rebellion started when she got bored of the Kane approved music lists and learned to break into the systems to get into the restricted libraries to learn more. She gave it all up when she became a Burner. There was no longer any time for herself really and even when there was, it's been tainted to her and makes her question the amount she fed into the progranda machine. That being said, she does eventually start playing again, but it takes a long time for her to feel comfortable with it. I have soooo many more, but this feels like a good starting list to throw out there!

[glimmerglanger]

ok wild prompt ignore if u feel loke it but i just read "is that a knife in your thigh or you just happy to see me?" and immediately thought of Obi-Wan (bc i am always thinking abt him lets be real)

DJFKSLDFJ Did I have a jolt of inspiration for this in the middle of a work project? Yes. Did I take a break to jot it all down before I forgot? Also yes!

Anyway! This is a little pre-obikin fic. Set during the Clone Wars. Mentions of injuries (someone got stabbed in the leg, after all) and a rescue attempt that went very wrong. Sillier than it sounds, I think.

~~~~~

“Is that a knife in your thigh,” Obi-Wan slurred, as Anakin bent over him, swearing under his breath, “or are you just happy to see me?”

Anakin stopped for a moment, gaping down at Obi-Wan, who flashed him a wide grin, apparently unrepentant. Anakin decided to blame the comment on whatever the kriff the Separatists had dosed Obi-Wan with before Anakin managed to find him.

“It’s a knife,” Anakin told him, biting the words out and putting both hands on Obi-Wan’s head, because it was the only way to make him stay still. Anakin checked his eyes. His pupils were blown, no sign of blue around the edges of his eyes. He frowned, ignoring the pain radiating out of his leg. “You put it there, remember?”

“Oh, yes,” Obi-Wan said, expression abruptly going serious. He was still tugging on Anakin’s arms, uncoordinated. Anakin had a feeling Obi-Wan had been aiming for his gut, not his thigh. “Sorry about that.”

“I know you didn’t mean it,” Anakin told him, though that wasn’t….quite true. Obi-Wan had obviously meant to stab someone. Probably whoever had done this to him. Anakin wasn’t entirely sure what this was, only that Obi-Wan was...obviously not himself. And that he was hurt. “Can you stand?”

“Do I have to?” Obi-Wan asked. He was tugging Anakin’s collar to one side. Anakin resisted the urge to roll his eyes, using the Force to push aside the throbbing pain in his leg. He’d seen Obi-Wan get like this a few times, usually after he was given pain killers.

They affected him...oddly.

“Yes,” Anakin said, trying to lift Obi-Wan’s hands away from his clothes. “I can’t carry you. You stabbed me in the leg.”

“We could take the knife out,” Obi-Wan suggested, and Anakin just barely managed to catch his wrist as he reached down.

“We’re not going to do that,” Anakin told him, though there was an immediate temptation to the idea. It was instinct to want to pull out the thing that caused so much pain. But it would be a terrible idea in their situation.

Currently, the knife was the only thing keeping his blood inside his body. It wasn’t doing a great job, but removing it would make things much worse. He was pretty sure Obi-Wan had nicked something important. 

Obi-Wan pouted up at him. Anakin ignored the expression, looking him over and trying to get a better idea of how he was hurt. It was, at least, easy to assess his condition. The Separatists must have had him in bacta, based on how sticky he felt and the fact that he was barely wearing anything.

Anakin had no idea why they’d thrown Obi-Wan in this little cell. Or how he’d gotten a knife. He had a lot of questions that could be answered later. “Alright,” he said, shaking his head. The agony from his leg was making it hard to think. “You’re getting up, come on.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Obi-Wan rasped, husky, and Anakin rolled his eyes. He focused on getting himself up, first, hissing as he tried to put any weight on his leg. Not only was he not going to be able to carry Obi-Wan out of here, it was feeling more and more likely that Obi-Wan was going to need to carry him. 

As far as rescues went, this wasn’t one he wanted recorded.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, as Anakin braced one hand on the wall, trying to stop his head from spinning. Kriffing blood loss. Kriffing Obi-Wan, stabbing him in the leg while Anakin was trying to rescue him, it was-- “You’re bleeding.”

“I am,” Anakin said, reaching a hand down. “Take my hand, you need to get up.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for another long moment and then stretched out his arm, wobbly. It took him two tries to grab Anakin’s hand, but then he managed to pull himself up. He swayed forward, into Anakin, who groaned in misery, biting his tongue and trying to avoid blacking out.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, face mashed up against his shoulder. “Is a that a knife in your leg, or--”

“It’s a knife,” Anakin told him, ragged, “just like it was the first time you asked.” The room was spinning around. He thought he might be ill.

Obi-Wan patted at his sides and then asked, voice cracking, “You’re not happy to see me?”

Anakin was going to single-handedly tear apart every Separatist involved in whatever had been going on here. He swore breathlessly. “Of course I’m happy to see you,” he said, ignoring the way his leg was starting to feel very, very cold.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Obi-Wan said, voice still quivering.

Anakin was also going to strangle whoever had developed whatever drug it was they’d given to Obi-Wan. Later. He swallowed, struggling for focus. “I’m so happy,” he said, through gritted teeth. “But I need your help to get out of here, right now.” 

Obi-Wan lifted his head at that, which was a mistake, because then he swayed to the side and almost went down. Anakin cursed, gripping him to keep him upright. “Kriff,” he said, hoping no one was around to see, “alright, you’re going to have to walk. And - and help me.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan said, nodding jerkily. “Because of the knife.”

“Because of the knife,” Anakin agreed, and swallowed a shout when Obi-Wan immediately straightened, taking most of his own weight. He only swayed alarmingly for a moment before he reached out and grabbed Anakin, dragging an arm over his shoulder.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin managed to pant out, as Obi-Wan took a swaying step towards the door, dragging him along. Obi-Wan made an agreeable, humming sound. “Next time I come to rescue you, maybe don’t stab me.”

“I’ll kiss it better,” Obi-Wan said, starting a jagged path down the hall, utterly unable to walk in a straight line. 

Anakin stared forward, his leg a dull throb and his vision starting to get a little blurry. He wasn’t sure he’d heard properly. His pulse was pounding very loudly in his ears. He asked, hearing a slur in his voice, “What?”

“Your thigh,” Obi-Wan said, readjusting his grip, taking a little more of Anakin’s weight. “Where the knife is. I’ll kiss it. It’ll be fine.”

Anakin considered that. It took a while to work all the way through the statements. He said, finally, “I don’t think that’ll help.”

Obi-Wan was quiet for a little while. They’d almost reached the end of the hall. There was a door there. And, with any luck, the ship Anakin had taken to come and rescue Obi-Wan was still out there. “Oh,” Obi-Wan said, finally, “I could kiss something else.”

“That sounds better,” Anakin told him, distantly aware that neither one of them should have been talking. But he didn’t have the energy to control his tongue. He felt...tired. And heavy. His body weighed as much as a small moon. He had no idea how Obi-Wan was dragging him along. “Why not my mouth?” he suggested, as the world wobbled around him. 

“Mm,” Obi-Wan hummed, nodding. “Alright, I’d like that,” he said, and Anakin laughed, just a little.

“Wait until I’m awake,” he advised, because if Obi-Wan really was going to kiss him, after all of this time, he’d like to be conscious for it. The world spun around again, as Obi-Wan shouldered his way through the door, over all the droid bodies Anakin had left behind on his way into the compound.

The sun beat down on his face. The ship was still waiting, ramp down. Anakin exhaled, relief carving away the last of his energy, and heard Obi-Wan make a concerned sound from somewhere far away.

[beskarhearts]

Fate (Din Djarin x reader)

Connection series Pt. 6

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings: cursing (I think that’s it but let me know if I missed any)

Word count: A little over 7.0K

Summary: You and Din finally explore outside of the ship, but that comes with a couple complications

Notes: So far, I’ve written this story as a reader insert one. I am super comfortable writing from this perspective and don’t want to stop doing so, but I feel like I’m giving the character too much of a background and personality to be a reader insert. I’m not sure what to do, I’ll probably keep it how it is but would love some advice!

Previous Part ____ Next Part

______________________________________________________________

Din stood with his body leaning against the wall of the Crest, staring at his child and the woman who were both sat on the floor in front of him. He watched as she brought her hands up to her face and tore them away from it, letting out a loud “Peek-a-boo!” as the childs giggles filled the hull of the ship. She had been doing it for about five minutes straight and everytime the child reacted as if it was the first, and the greatest thing he’s ever witnessed. And every time, the brightest smile was brought upon her face as she watched the kid.

“Din, you have to do this with him. His expression is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” Din hadn’t even noticed that she knew he was there, though he supposed he couldn’t hide easily with how small the ship was. Her eyes sparkled as she once again let out another “Peek-a-boo!” to the child’s delight. She let out a laugh again and Din felt a warmth in his chest at the sound.

The Mandalorian loved watching the two of you together. His child and his cyar’ika. Seeing you guys interact and the smiles you put on each other’s faces had to be one of the greatest gifts he had ever been given and he thanked the Maker, or whatever was out there, that he had been given the opportunity to have you two in his life. Din never thought he would have a second chance for a family but here it was in front of him. 

“I don’t know if it will translate as well with the helmet.” He finally replied.

She looked up at him with a small frown on her face, her eyebrows scrunched together as she shook her head. The child detected her change in attention and turned to look at Din, beginning to waddle over once he realized his dad was near. “He doesn’t care about the helmet.”

Din wondered if that was true but a part of him had to believe it. The connection she had with the child was uncanny. It seemed she could always tell when he was hungry, tired, upset. She knew when he liked something or didn’t.  If Din didn’t know any better, he would say she could read the kids thoughts or something. So far, you never seemed to be wrong when it came to the little womp rat. And that made Din so unbelievably happy. He truly loved the child, more than he was probably willing to admit, but he didn’t always understand him. He was just happy that the kid had a maternal connection with her and that he had found his person who understood him.

“What about you?” The question slipped out before he noticed. Din hadn’t realized how much the thought had been in the back of his mind, nagging at him. He had never expected his relationship with her to ever reach the point it was at. A possibility of a friendship never even crossed his mind when he first brought her on. But now they were friends. Dare he say great friends. And Din knew he felt some things about her he had never felt before with any other person. 

But Din couldn’t help but wonder if the helmet was a hinderance at all. If he didn’t have the helmet, would they be closer? Was there something deep down in her that was the least bit disturbed at his armor, his helmet, or his career? She never asked any questions about it and he assumed it was for one of two reasons: she truly didn’t care or she was too afraid to ask.

Din watched as her brows dropped and her face softened. He looked away from her, suddenly feeling flushed and embarassed, to look at the child which now starting patting at his leg. 

“I don’t care about the helmet. I care about you, Din.” He looked back up at her to find her examining him, as if searching for a sign as to what he was feeling. “What made you think of that?”

“You never ask anything... about it. People usually say something eventually.”

She nodded her head as if understanding where this was coming from. “It’s not my place to do that. You swore a creed. This is your way of life. I don’t want to do anything to harm that or make you uncomfortable.”

She said it so plainly, as if that was just common logic and how everybody looks at it. But people didn’t. People didn’t understand that being a Mandalorian isn’t just a job but a way of life. It’s a creed you swear and can never go back on. Din felt a smile etch onto his lips as he looked upon her. 

“I do have one question though.” She stated with a small smile beginning to form, one corner of her lips lifting slightly. 

“What?”

“Do you look like the kid? Cause I imagine it must be painful to keep the ears in a helmet.” She tried her best to keep a serious face but Din could see the laugh she was trying her best to suppress and her eyes crinkled.

Din let out a little chuckle. “No, I don’t look like the kid.”

“Well, then, I don’t care what’s under the helmet. You could look like a bantha for all I care.” She let out a loud laugh at the joke, brushing some of her hair behind her ear and Din studied her beauty. The joy she emitted when she laughed was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

“A bantha?”

“Yes. As long as you don’t end up smelling like one, we’re good.” She let a chuckle out at that one, Din joining her. He watched as she paused for a moment. She bit her bottom lip, like she did often when she was thinking, and then looked back up at Din. “I do have one guess though.”

“About what?” 

“I think you have brown eyes.”

Din tilted her head at her, his mind blown away. He supposed he shouldn’t have been. Brown was a very common eye color. But the fact that she was able to guess what color his eyes were and the thought that she had even thought about it... was a intoxicating of a thought. “What makes you say that?”

He watched her cheeks flush a little at her questions, perhaps not expecting him to inquire as to why. She wrung her hands together and looked away from his burning gaze, to the ground. Din loved when she got embarrassed like this. It didn’t happen often - it just wasn’t part of her personality - but it always made him feel like the luckiest man when she did. It was just so pure and light hearted.  “It just seems like the right color for you. Strong and determined and resilient but also kind and compassionate...”

Din stood there in silence and for the first time in his life, the prospect of taking his helmet off in front of her, letting her actually see him, sounded so alluring. He could feel his fingers itch, wanting to slide the helmet off and show her his eyes. 

And he suddenly become over come with anxiety and fear. He had never felt that way. Mandalorians weren’t allowed that. If he did that, it would be breaking a code he spent his whole life following to a T. He couldn’t disregard that, even for her. Another sillier, almost adolescent, part of him worried she wouldn’t like what she saw. That she wouldn’t care or understand how paramount the moment was. Or that she would really think he looked like a bantha or something.

She finally cleared her throat and her gaze drifted back to the child and she nodded her head towards him. “Now play peek-a-boo with the kid before he gets upset.”

Din nodded his head and bent down onto his knees, watching as the kid looked up at him with big eyes. He slowly brought his gloved hands to cover his helmet for a few seconds before bringing them down rapidly, letting out a “peek-a-boo” as doing so. The child’s laughter erupted immediately, his little teeth peaking through the big grin that broke out on his face. His big eyes sparkled as the sound of his small laughs filled Din’s ears, warming his heart. He glanced over at her. She was watching the whole thing, a small giggle leaving her lips as she saw the kids reaction. She looked over at Din and smiled brightly, taking his breath away. “Told you the kid would love it.”

No one could see it, but Din had the biggest grin on his face. 

___________________________

“What about Dinny?”

“No.”

“Din-Din?”

“No.”

“Dinsters?”

“What?”

“McDin?”

“Please stop.”

“Double D?”

“No.”

“Get it? Cause your name is Din Djarin. Both initials are D.”

A loud sigh rumbled from his modulator as he stared ahead. “I understand the logic. It’s just stupid.”

You hold back a laugh, feigning that you were hurt and dramatically placing your hand over your heart. “I just want to come up with a nickname for the man who finally admitted that little ol’ me is his best friend in this entire galaxy. Tin Can just feels offensive at this point.”

“I regret admitting this.”

An evil glint sparkled in your eyes as Din finally turned to look at you. “Oh please, I knew it deep down this whole time. I mean after all, I am a cyar’ika.” You viewed the man as one of his fists clenched and you could sense him get physically uncomfortable. “You know, one of these days you will have to tell me what it means.”

“It means pain in my ass.” The words were said gruffly and you could tell you were probably getting to him. But Din still hadn’t told you what cyar’ika meant. And unfortunately you didn’t have a convenient ‘basic to Mando’a’ dictionary, so you had no clue what the word on your necklace meant. For all you know it could say ‘ugly know-it-all’ or ‘big fat lard’. 

“Oh, if only it really meant something that sweet and kind. Then you would probably make me swoon.” 

Din cocked his helmet towards you, crossing his arms over his chest. “It would make you swoon if I called you a pain in the ass?”

You let out a small giggle while shrugging your shoulders. “Oh yes. It’s the way to my heart.”

“Guess I’ll call you a pain in the ass more often then.” Din then turned his head back to look out the windows of the cockpit of the crest.

And your jaw quite literally dropped. Did Din Djarin just flirt with you? 

You heart started racing and you whipped your head forward, away from Din so he couldn’t see the stupid, absolute bewildered expression on your face. He had been getting more ballsy with your lately. You’d like to think you had inspired some confidence in him, made him feel a little better about himself like he had with you. But maybe you just had fed his secret ego because lately he had been flustering you more and more. And while you enjoyed the banter, you felt like a teenage girl every time he made you blush and put you at a loss for words. I mean, you were a woman known for being quick-witted and a talker. You couldn’t let this tin can get to you.

But the problem is you could never tell what got to Din. This is one of the areas in life where you imagined the helmet is useful. Then no one can tell when you are jealous or embarrassed or flustered. You wondered if you’d ever made Din Djarin, the mighty Mandalorian, flustered. You wondered if he had ever blushed beneath that helmet of his. You didn’t think it was possible: he was too strong for silly little things like that. But you still decided that you had to step up your game.

“So, uh, w-where are we going now?” You cursed yourself for stumbling over your words as you finally felt your face start to cool down.

“We need more supplies. I know a village that is close by. Has a big market place. I’m gonna stop there and get some supplies.”

Your eyes widened. Ever since you joined Din, you had been confined to the ship. And the planet he had found you from didn’t really have a lot of people in general. Definitely no marketplaces where there were colors and sights and sounds. And people. 

You adored being with Din and the child. It felt like a gift. But you would be lying if you didn’t say you were a little antsy from staying on the ship so much. You knew he couldn’t stay in one place for too long or show his face too much because the Empire was still actively looking for the kid and him, but if he was already going somewhere outside of the ship, what was the harm in you going?

“I’m gonna go.”

“No.”

You whipped your head to look at Din incredulously. “No offense, but I wasn’t asking permission.”

“It’s not safe.” 

You let out a sigh. You knew he just wanted to protect you. And you appreciated that. You really did. But he was not winning. “You don’t think anywhere besides the ship is safe.”

Din let out a sigh of his own. “Because it’s not. I’m not the only one whose probably wanted by the galaxy.”

“Oh, please. I’ve been hidden this long. I’m fine.”

“It’s not worth the risk.”

“Well it’s not your risk. It’s mine. And I’ve decided it is worth it. And besides, you will be there to protect me. And now I can be there if you need me.”

“I don’t need you to come.��

“I know. You are a big, scary Mandalorian. But I am still coming.” You rose from the passengers seat, giving Din a small smile and resting your hand on his shoulder. “Now, I am going to get the kid ready. He is going to love seeing it.”

___________________________________________

Being in this marketplace was like a breath of fresh air.

You weren’t exactly sure where you were but there were plants and so many people, of so many kinds. You could see why Din chose it. With this much going on, it made it easier to blend into the crowd. All you could do as you stumbled through the crowds was look at everything, in every which direction, with bright eyes. It felt like you hadn’t ever seen the universe before. Like everything was brand new.

The temperature was perfect, slightly warm but a breeze pushed through continually that felt like heaven on your face. You could smell food coming from every which direction, scents that you didn’t even recognize. There were so many vendors with people selling their creations, with bright colors and intricate designs that made your heart sing. Somebody you couldn’t see was playing an instrument near by which added even more life to the environment. The tune that you could hear matched the environment perfectly - lively and robust and fresh.  You watched as people traveled with their friends and family, walking by and stopping at stalls with smiles on their faces. You felt so unbelievably fortunate to be here with your own clan of three, your own little family.

And if you thought you were loving it, the child was absolutely ecstatic. He kept cooing, his little fingers constantly reaching out to try to grab anything (he had managed to grip someones hair which earned you one confused look). His big eyes shone with the reflection of the marketplace and his ears twitched with each sound, voice, and laugh that rang through the symphony of noises. You could tell he loved the liveliness of the environment.

Din, on the other hand, was clearly on high alert. He stood completely upright, holding the child tightly against him and continually reminding you to keep close. He had been in environments like this before, but not with you guys. Now he didn’t have to just watch his own back, but keep an eye out for you and the kid. You found yourself wishing you could ease his concern and have him take in the energy of the place. You wish he could truly experience this, allow himself to live life normally and digest everything around him. But you understood that he wasn’t taught to do that. He was taught to be a hunter and even despite that, deep down to his core he was a protector, and he took the job very seriously.

Your eyes kept looking around, taking in the dizzying amount of objects for sale when your eyes landed on a particular stand. It wasn’t a huge one like some of the others. It was actually rather small, tucked away in a corner with only one woman sitting behind it. She was older but didn’t look it. She just looked wise. Her long, white hair was woven into intricate braids, the kind you could stand and marvel at. And she worked with a small smile on her face, weaving away at the item she was creating. The very items which caught your attention.

You stood beside Din, who was busy buying food at another much bigger booth, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off the woman and her booth. “Hey, Mando.”

He let out a small grunt, clearly not paying much attention to you as he tried to grab what he needed, continually swatting away the kids hand as the child tried to shove anything he could into his mouth. 

“I’m going to be right back.” you told him and he finally jerked his helmet in your direction. Well that got his attention.

“What? No.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s right there.” You walked away before Din could argue, your feet stumbling through the beaten path, pushing past people, while your eyes remained glued to the items for sale.

You finally walked up and felt your heart sing. Her table was full of hats, scarves, blankets, so much more. They were all clearly hand made, woven with a variety of bright, beautiful colors and in the most gorgeous designs. Your grandmother had given you a blanket like this, one that looked so similar. And the memory brought a big grin to your mouth. 

“Hello, young one.”

Your attention finally switched to the woman behind the table, whose fingers still worked away at the blanket she was making but whose eyes looked up at you, a smile welcoming you. “Hi.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so excited while at my booth.” She chuckled at her words and you could tell she was a warm, bright individual. Kind of person who would help you and provide comfort to you.

“I used to have a blanket just like this one. My grandmother gave it to me when I was young.” You smiled fondly, a finger reaching out to graze the wool of one of the blankets. It was already soft, like it had been used and loved by another, filled with its own memories and soul.

“Maybe your grandmother got it from me. I’ve been making these blankets for ages now.”

“That’s a nice thought.” You knew your grandmother had traveled a lot before she got pregnant with your mother. You supposed it could technically possible, though you’d never know for sure. It made you smile, thinking of the possibility that you were on a planet she could of been before, at the very same booth she had bought something. 

“Is that your Mandalorian?” 

You looked over at Din and couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. The kid had finally gotten his hands on a piece of fruit and was trying desperately to put it in his mouth. You probably should of felt bad for leaving him alone with the kid but hey, he’d survive. And it made for a very entertaining sight. “Yeah. It is.”

You turned back to look at the old woman who smiled at you, a fondness creeping in her eyes as she saw your expression. “He is your riddur?” 

“Riddur?” 

“That’s Mando’a for husband or wife.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head at the woman’s question. You hadn’t even been certain that Mandalorians could marry. You shook your head frantically, letting out a small wheeze at the very thought of you being mistaken as Din’s wife. “Oh Maker, no. No!”

“I must be mistaken. You look at him the same way I used to look at my riddur.” 

“Wait, you were married to a Mandalorian?” You felt like you hit the jackpot. You knew there weren’t a lot of Mandalorians left and the fact that you had found a woman who was married to one was unbelievable. You felt a connection with her. She was a woman who was able to look beyond the metal, discover the person who was behind it and learn to love them.

The woman let out a laugh at your reaction. “Oh yes. For many years. She was... special.” 

A sadness crept into her eyes, one you recognized from your own experience.  “Can I ask you a question?”

A smile brought back its way onto her face. She seemed like the kind of person who liked to talk, spreading her wisdom. “Of course. An old lady like me loves to talk.”

“Was your Mandalorian also... I don’t know. Hard to read?”

“Oh Maker, no. My riddur was a real charmer, sweet talking her way through everything. When we first met, she was calling me gorgeous within five minutes.” She let out a laugh at the memory, her eyes crinkling.

“I wish. It took weeks for that hunk of metal to finally talk to me.”

Another laugh trickled from her lips and she gave you a reassuring look. “I think most Mandalorians are like that. The helmet and armor definitely doesn’t help.”

“Yeah. It doesn’t.” You turned back around to check on Din and saw he had finally managed to stop the kid, who now had a very grumpy expression, from grabbing everything. 

“You are fond of him.”

You let out a little sigh at her words. “Is it that obvious?”

“Oh don’t worry. Men are oblivious.” 

 “Yeah. I guess so.” You let a small chuckle out and watch as Din finally hands credits over to the child, most likely heading in your direction next. You are about to say goodbye to the woman when you realize something. She knows Mando’a, you idiot! “Wait, you know Mando’a?”

“I am not the most fluent in it but I picked up some words and phrases.”

You pull the necklace out from under your sweater, turning the smooth metal around in your fingers and showing the word engraved to the woman. “What does this mean?”

Her eyes land on the necklace and after reading the word, a huge grin lands on her face and she starts loudly laughing. “Oh, maybe your Mandalorian isn’t the only oblivious one.”

Your face screws up in confusion, eyebrows bunching together as you stare at the woman with a completely perplexed expression. “What?”

“That means beloved in Mando’a.”

You froze completely and dropped the necklace from your hands. “Are you 100% sure about that?”

“Oh yes. My riddur used to call me it all the time. I imagine a Mandalorian likes yours though has reserved that word for someone he truly cares about though.”

Beloved. Part of wanted to believe she had just translated it wrong or was messing with you. But she didn’t seem like the kind to, and it would explain why Din was refusing to tell you what it meant. But what did it mean exactly? 

Maybe it was a friendly gesture. Or maybe, just maybe, the Mandalorian was feeling something more, something like-

“You okay?” 

You jumped at the sound of Din’s modulated voice, turning around to see him staring down at you with the kid in his arms, who still looked very grumpy. “Oh, um, yeah. Yeah. I was j-just... y’know-”

“She was just showing me that beautiful necklace.” You and Din both turned to look at the woman behind the table who had a giddy expression on her face as she looked at the two of you. You gave her a pleading expression, hoping you could properly express with your eyes for her to not mention you knew what the necklace meant. You would bring it up with Din sometime, but not now with this lady and all these people nearby.

You awkwardly smiled back at Din. “Yeah. I came over cause my grandmother gave me a blanket like these before.” 

Din only nodded, back to being unnaturally quiet since he was in public. You turned back at the woman, giving her a grateful smile for not mentioning anything. “Well then, I-”

“Can we buy one of these blankets?” Din interrupted, still looking over at the woman.

“Din.” you whispered but he didn’t even bother to look at you.

“Of course. Pick whichever one you like.”

“Din, what are you doing?” 

He finally turned his helmet to look at you and one hand gestured to the blankets. “You like these. So, I am going to get you one.”

“No. You’ve already done enough.”

The woman turned away with a small chuckle, leaving you and Din to argue. “I want to get you this. It makes you happy.”

“You can’t just get me stuff cause it makes me happy.”

“Yes. Yes, I can.”

“No, that’s like some weird sugar daddy thing.”

“What the kriff is a sugar daddy? There’s not even any sugar over here.”

You face palmed your forehead, listening as the woman behind the table not so subtlety snorted at the conversation, making it appear she was busy but clearly listening in. “That is a discussion for a completely different time. Let’s go.”

“We will get two blankets.” 

“What?” 

“That way it’s even. You can have one and the kid can have one.”

“Fine.” You huff and turn over to the lady, who now wasn’t even making it look like she wasn’t eavesdropping. “We will get three blankets.”

Din let out a sigh. “Why do we need three?”

You pull credits out of the bag hanging from your hip, throwing them down on the counter before Din has the opportunity to argue. “I’m paying for these blankets because I found them. And you can have one. I assume you use blankets.”

“I suppose so.”

“Well, then everybody can have blankets.”

The woman smiled. “Pick whatever three you’d like.”

_____________________________________

Though your mind was still reeling from the conversation you had with the woman, you were starving. And you knew the kid was because he had a bottomless bit of a stomach. You swore the kid never got full. He could just keep going and going. 

So that led you to where you were now, sat at a table at a cantina with Din across from you and the kid next to you. All three of you waited on the kid and your food to come. You tapped your fingers against the cool metal of the table, eyes looking anywhere but at Din. You felt silly. You and him had been talking a matter of hours ago normally and nothing was really different.

Except it was different now. Very different. Because now the necklace around your name had an even greater meaning behind it. It wasn’t just Din inviting you into his clan and family. It was him... you truthfully didn’t even know what it was. What did beloved really mean? You knew you wouldn’t just go around calling people that. You would save that for someone you really cared for. Someone you cherished and loved. Someone like Din.

But what did Din think that meant. Was it just something he thought would look nice on the necklace? Or did he mean it in a purely platonic way? Maybe it was just casual for him. You heard what the woman said but maybe it was just a small word without any meaning behind it.

Or maybe you are oblivious like she said.

“Are you okay?” 

Your gaze finally drifted back to the man in front of you. He looked back at you, his helmet slightly tilted as if he was studying you. “Oh, yeah. Totally.”

You turned away from Din, feeling your face flush like you were a teenager and not a grown woman, and looked at the child. The kid kept looking at you and Din, probably waiting for something exciting to happen or to be entertained.

Din let out a grunt. “You are being quiet. You are never this quiet.”

“I can be quiet.”

“Since when?”

Good point. You were probably freaking him out with your silence. Or Maker forbid you were making him feel bad. Or like he did something wrong. When the truth of it is he didn’t do anything wrong in the slightest. You were just unable to comprehend anything right now. “You know, I used to be alone and quiet all the time before I joined you.”

Din sighed and leaned across the table, closer to you. “You don’t need to do that anymore. You have me now, sweet one.” he whispered as best he could so nobody around you could hear.

“Listen, I just need to talk to you later about-”

“Who ever would of thought I would see you again?”

Your body froze, becoming absolutely rigid at the voice behind you - the voice you recognized instantly. You saw Din lift his helmet up, looking at the woman behind you, before bringing his gaze back to yours. You watched as one of his hands drifted towards the blaster on his side, preparing for the situation to get messy. Din tilted his helmet at you, as if asking if this was bad, and you let out a sigh. Shit. This is the last thing you wanted right now. 

You heard footsteps and could see her in your peripheral vision. You finally turned your head, looking up at the woman standing at your table. The child let out an excited little noise, clearly thrilled to see another person. You wished you could share the child joy. “What are you doing here?” It was all you could find yourself to say and cursed yourself when your voice cracked.

She gave you a dashing smile as always, placing her hand on her hip and cocking her head at you. For a split second, it reminded you of when Mando would do the same to you when you said something stupid. “I told you I was going to travel. I’m stopping here for a couple days, taking in the sights.” She finally turned to look at Din and then looked at the kid, who goofily grinned at her and reached his hand out. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

You let out a loud sigh, not hiding your discomfort as you turned to look back at Din, who rather than looking at the woman next to him, just stared back at you. “Mando, this is an old... friend. Leyna.”

Leyna let out a chuckle at your awkward introduction and bat her eyelashes at you. “Friend? Interesting choice.”

Your head whipped towards her and your eyes narrowed. She had always been so difficult, so cocky, so loud. Perhaps she was a little too much like you but she was so different from you in so many ways. You saw her wink before she turned to look over at Mando again. “Mando, good to meet you. Are you also one of her friends?” 

Din still didn’t bother to look over at the woman, still just staring straight ahead at you. Leyna cleared her throat, obviously not sure what to do in response to his silence. “Who is the little one? I never took you as the maternal type.” 

You rolled your eyes, resting your head against one of your hands and looking away from Din’s intense gaze until he finally interrupted. “You must not have been that good of friends then.” The words were growled out and you could detect the irritation. You needed her to go away. Now.

“You know, Leyna it was nice seeing you but-”

“Oh, don’t worry. We were very good friends.”

“Leyna-”

“Weren’t we, babe?” 

You growled as she looked back over at you, an mischievous glint in her eyes as a wide grin took over her face. You never, ever, ever wanted Din to meet one of your exes, especially Leyna. And especially like this. Din cocked his helmet, finally moving and crossing his arms over his chest. “Babe?” he let out, causing Leyna to giggle at the awkward tension.

“Aww, you didn’t talk about me? What a shame.”

“Why would I talk about something so unexemplary?” You finally snapped back and saw Leyna sigh in response. She shook her head and shrugged.

“You are still mad over that?” Her tone was one of pity and it enraged you. You felt your fists clench.

The truth was, you weren’t even mad that she had left you anymore. You had been at the time. You were furious actually. It was only a year after you had lost your family and it was rough when she left. It had taken you time to realize why though. It wasn’t because you loved her. She was more a distraction than a partner to be honest. You were mad because she left Yungbrii and didn’t bring you with her. She knew how much you wanted to leave. She knew you didn’t want the rest of your life to be on that damned planet. She could of brought you and dropped you off somewhere. But she left without a word. Just some stupid note and a handful of credits like you weren’t even a human being.

But you weren’t mad anymore. Because if she had brought you, you wouldn’t have met Din and the child. And they brought you a peace you have never felt before. Din made you feel safer than you had ever been and the child made you feel worthy - like you finally had a purpose. If you had left with Leyna on that planet, who knows where you would be right now. So you weren’t mad. Because you had a feeling this was your fate. The universe had brought you and Din and the kid together for a reason. You weren’t sure exactly why yet but you knew it was meant to be, perhaps written in the stars for you.

Din suddenly stood up, grabbing the child and turning to look at you. “We need to go.” 

You nodded your head, grateful for the excuse to leave. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

You stood up, following Din out of the cantina without giving Leyna another look and let out a breath once you were outside, the fresh air hitting your face and seeming to wake you up from the state you were in. Din continued walking, not bothering to turn back and see if you were following, heading towards where he had parked the Razor Crest. The child was being held against Din, his little head poking out from behind your shoulders and he gave you a frown, clearly disgruntled since he wasn’t getting his bowl of chowder like promised anymore.

After a long walk full of complete silence between you three, you finally made your way onto the Crest. Din put the kid down in his hammock, dropping all the stuff you guys had gotten from the market, and stomped up the ladder to the cockpit. After a couple minutes, you heard the Crest start up and him lift it up, clearly heading into hyperspace. 

You gave yourself some time alone, feeding the child and eventually he drifted asleep, worn out from all the days festivities. It was once again completely silent in the ship, must like it had been before you and Din grew closer. It make you uncomfortable and sad. Your friendship with Din had come so far and now it felt like it used to - lonely and confusing. 

You had no clue how Din was feeling. Clearly he wasn’t happy. He hadn’t said a word to you which was unusual for you two nowadays. Usually at this time you would crawl up to the cockpit with Din, but that didn’t feel like the right thing to do right now. Or maybe it was. Maybe you needed to explain some things but you felt so uncomfortable doing it. 

But then you remembered the necklace around your neck. You two were family now. Family didn’t hide from each other and lock each other out. And you also knew Din had opened himself up to you with the word he had engraved on the back. He didn’t know you had learned its meaning but it was obviously significant. 

You trudged your feet to the ladder, taking a deep breath in and out, before clasping onto the rungs and pulling your way up. You entered the pit and didn’t see much of Din. He was sat in his seat, staring out the windows and not bothering to greet you as you made your way closer, eventually sitting in the chair next to his. You nervously tapped your fingers against your thighs, not looking over at him. “I’m sorry.”

Din let out a long sigh and you finally looked over at him. His shoulders were shagging a little and his hands were laid in his lap. He never sat in that position and it made him seem vulnerable, like he was caving in one himself. “You don’t need to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You didn’t know if that was necessarily true because you felt guilty. You heard a breath rumble through Din’s modulator as he whispered. “Were you... you know? In a rela-”

“No.” You interrupted. “Well, yes. Technically. But it wasn’t anything special.” Nothing like you, Din. Not even close in the slightest.

“It wouldn’t be big deal. I assumed you have been in relationships. I just didn’t know it was one with a-” Din paused and fumbled for the right words to say, turning to look at you with his hands slightly raised. And a small smile finally started to make a way onto your face. 

“A girl?”

“Uhh... yeah.” Din’s helmet turned in confusion as you let out a laugh at his reaction. You suddenly realized where his confusion was. 

“I like women. But... I also like men.” You gave him a small, reassuring smile as he nodded his head.

“Oh.” The word was said as if he was relieved. 

“And banthas.”

Din’s helmet whipped around. “W-what?”

You let out an even louder howl of laughter, feeling your stomach clench from it as you bent over. Din finally recognized you were joking and let out a laugh of his own, bringing his hand up to his helmet as if rubbing his face. The laughter finally died out and with a smile on your face, you looked at Din, right into his visor, hoping you were making eye contact. “I should of mentioned it. I hope... you don’t care.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t care unless the bantha thing was true.” Din joked and you were so relieved that it was back to what it usually was like.

“I don’t know, Din. I mean something about all that hair really gets a girl going.” 

“Maybe a bantha would be better than her.” You knew who he was referring to immediately and somehow the fact that Din didn’t like Leyna either made you happy. 

“A bantha would be way less of a sadistic ass.”

“What did you see in her? I mean, she is just... bad.” 

“Yungbrii isn’t really sprawling with hot babes and dudes.” Din and you let another giggle out at your bantering. You noticed Din was sat up straighter. He seemed more alive than he had only mere minutes ago. You found yourself wondering if he was smiling under the helmet. He probably had a beautiful smile, one you could just sit and look at.

“Well, now you don’t have to be with anyone like that ever again.”

You quirked up at Din’s statement, looking up at him with one eyebrow raised. “What do you mean by that, Djarin?”

“I- uh... I just mean I’m here to make sure you make better... choices.” He nodded his head, as if reassuring himself rather than you. “Yes. Choices.”

You let out a hum, holding back from letting out a giggle at his stammering. Seeing the man of beskar, this Mandalorian who was feared by so many, stumble over his own words may have been one of your favorite things. “I appreciate your support.” 

Din’s helmet tilted over at you and he looked at you straight on, not veering his gaze away. You wondered what he was thinking and felt yourself grow flustered as he just continued looking at you. He finally turned away. “Beloved.”

You completely froze, every limb feeling like they were tingling and you were unable to move. Say something. “W-what?”

“You wanted to know what cyar’ika meant.”

You stayed completely silent but mentally, you were screaming. He told you. And it was somehow even better having him tell you it having already known what it meant. You didn’t need him to tell you but he chose to tell you. “Oh.”

“I hope that’s okay.” Din looked down at his lap, running his fingers nervously over his legs as he waited for your response. You couldn’t tell, but Din could barely breath because he felt so nervous.

“Y-yeah.” You felt your fingers drift towards the sigil around your neck and cling onto it like it was a lifeline. “I like it.”

Din nodded again, finally turning to look at you. “Okay.”

“Okay.” You didn’t know what this meant for now. But you weren’t going to bother. The moment was already so perfect. That would be a conversation for another time. 

For now, you were just going to sit here, staring into the galaxy with the man you were learning to love more and more. With your own cyar’ika.

Tag List: @ilikethoseodds @dindaddy​ @poguesvixen @starspangledwidow

[kinnoth]

What's your take on Thor Ragnarok? What's your take on Thor's development within the MCU so far?I'm a fan of your posts and tags!

GREAT QUESTIONS THANK YOU FOR ASKING, THANKS FOR BEING A FAN

tldr I """"like"""" Thor's canon development now bc I've done some fucking Olympic grade backfilling and contortion to recontextualize the canon to make it meaningful, but this results in me living in my own pocket universe of an interpretation where I can't really interact with other people bc they don't subscribe to my exact reading of canon

But bro I LOVE Ragnarok. I know that can be a controversial take (I've read the meta of people who think it "slaughtered" Thor and Loki's characterisations), but I just thought it was so much fun! Like on a movie watching experience level and on a lore/meta level, it's FUN. That's not something I can say for 95% of marvel movies, which are nigh universally too dimly lit and too reliant on hateful sarcasm between characters as a substitute for a relationship.

On a meta level, I 1000% subscribe to the idea that the entire movie is a retelling that Thor is preforming for his refugees, so it's a heavily edited, exaggerated, and sillier version of events meant to keep everyone's spirits up. On the point of lore continuity, I really appreciate that thor3 makes CANON and EXPLICIT Odin's campaign of imperialist violence behind his "peaceful" reign over the nine realms, I FUCKIN LOVE IT. I LOVE the context Hela gives to their family, because she makes canon and explicit Odin's disappointments in Thor. I LOVE that Mjolnir was Hela's weapon before it was Thor's because Mjolnir was never meant to be a metric for moral goodness or readiness for rule, but a metric for a colonialist's commitment to imperialist violence on behalf of an empire WHICH IS WHY IT FINDS CAPTAIN AMERICA WORTHY BUT NOT LOKI

(btw if anyone else can draw a line between Hela and Steve Rogers that is a. representative of Odin's priorities and b. includes Thor but excludes Loki, hmu, bc this is the best I got.)

(Mjolnir rejects Thor in thor1 bc Thor was trying to conquer Jotunheim for personal glory and doesn't accept him again until he starts thinking about the good of the empire again by protecting Midgard, an imperial asset. Mjolnir rejects Loki bc Loki is a not an imperialist in service of an empire)

Off topic but I know a lot of people get hung up on Thor leaving Loki paralyzed in the parking garage, potentially to be found by the grandmasters dudes? Like people say that was unaccountably cruel and ooc for Thor. But like, ok, they killed everyone on the way up, and Thor knows his armed gladiator rebellion is on his heels also headed for the parking garage, so I dunno, I never read it as Loki was in any particular danger? But I'm a notorious Thor apologist as well as a Loki apologist so 🤷‍♂️

Things I also love: loki defunding the military to spend that money on art and infrastructure, Loki's live action thorki fanfic that Asgard unaccountably loved, Loki stonewalling Odin's attempt to reconcile bc fuck Odin, Thor's lightning powers, Bruce banner is now a Jewish grandma, Hela have I mentioned Hela love that girlboss, Jeff goldblum love that wiggly man, the Valkyrie love that angry girl, "piss off ghost", inglorious deaths for all the warriors 3, "I'm here" (screaming, crying, shaking), the story about how Loki bit Thor as a snake as well as the confirmation that they are in fact the same age

I have complicated feelings about Thor's canon development tbh. On a very ground floor sort of reaction, I despise what they did to My Boy in infinity war and endgame. I think it's a disgusting character assassination and I don't think the russos understand humour and specifically how to use humour to expand on tragedy like what thor3 did.

On the other hand, if you've read my fic and meta, you'll know that I've accepted the canon development, bc at this point, I've done a LOT of very deliberate and concerted labour to MAKE the canon development we see between thor1 and endgame WORK. But, like, there was a LOT of labour that I, specifically, put into it. It fully relies on me specifically doing a lot of digging and reaching and mining these movies for every possible frame of content to the point where I am pretty sure I've put more effort into making all the development make continuous sense than any of the screenwriters put into the actual development.

And I think I've probably just drank too much of my own Kool aid but like, I am in a position now where I do think my interpretation of Thor's character development is THE most complete and accurate reading of his character development. Key to these points are: a) I think he is an ex-imperialist who is currently and actively trying to deprogram himself from the colonialists' mindset that Odin instilled within him b) he is trying to deprogram himself from Asgard's culture of extreme toxic masculinity wherein he was not taught to have any sort of emotional processing that did not involve physical violence c) Loki is/was/always will be the person he loves best

So like, as I try to show in my thorki canonverse fics (shameless plug for myself), I can make most of the bad decisions made about Thor's character in infinity war and endgame work if I recontextualize all of his canon actions with my own (well supported, well documented) headcanon'd baggage. Of course he goes on a death wish mission to get revenge on Thanos -- he has a literal deathwish bc he was already supposed to die with Loki. Of course he sinks into an unshakeable depression afterwards -- he has no identity now that he has no family bc he was never taught to live by himself or for himself. Of course he leaves new Asgard and abdicates his rule -- he hasn't wanted a hand in the dirty business of Empire ever since Odin's ambition got his mom and brother killed in thor2, and that hasn't changed. I try to make him go through all the canon-implied feelings and anxieties and doubts in front of the reader. My entire goal of this is that people read my shit, then look at canon and think "oohh that context DOES make it better!" I will be gratified if that is the case.

(The only thing I cannot fix is the bit in endgame where Thor walks past Loki's Tupperware cell and the narrative doesn't come to a screeching fucking halt as Thor has so many feelings that he has some sort of paralytic breakdown where he simultaneously wants to commit Time Crime (tm) so he can just stay here forever and also wishes he could just die here, next to loki, like he was always supposed to. Like, that needed to happen to really lynchpin all of my work together into one smooth, problem free reading, but I'm not allowed to have nice things so)

(oh also I didn't like Thor calling frigga "mom". Shouldn't it at least be "mum"? I think "mother" is best tbh, bc I don't really read them as having that sort of relationship, see "toxic masculinity", see also "homosocial socialisation")

(and ok I get that it was a nice moment for Thor to call the hammer back to his hand, and I get that it even still works with my headcanon that mjolnir finds Thor worthy still bc Thor is defending the imperial asset that is Midgard, but like God damnit. The uncritical and unquestioning use of that word "worthy" when he catches the hammer again. Like worthy of what you guys? Do you ever ask yourself that question bc I very much do. I kinda wish they didnt bring it up at all, or if they did, it didn't come back to Thor's hand and he is just like, wistfully, "that's all right, I suspected as much. I'm such a different man now, mjolnir doesn't recognize me. I don't think I'd be alive right now if I had been the same man I was")

Wow that got long, anyway, thanks for chatting with me! Again, always a pleasure to field asks!

[carry-on-calum]

At Dawn | Hanbin

A/N: i keep listening to bobby’s “lucky man” and almost every song is inspiring me to write something so here’s the product of that inspiration. :) 

Genre: angst / fluff 

Warnings: mature themes / mentions of death / sexual content ?? ( i wouldn’t consider it heavy smut but it’s in there ) 

word count: 2.4k

The first time meeting you was the definition of a fluke. He didn't even like coffee, hated the way it made his fingers shake and his body jittery. But if it meant catching a glimpse of the pretty blonde girl behind the counter, the one from his calculus class, then he would sacrifice an extra thirty minutes of sleep in the morning.

He'd been extra tired that morning, his dark hair hanging carelessly in his eyes after losing the brush he'd usually run through it, and the line was so long. He wasn't sure he'd ever get his opportunity to step up, to introduce himself after weeks of admiring her during class and around random spots on campus, and when the line finally does come to his favor, he can't believe his luck.

The pretty blonde girl is nowhere to be found, but standing in her place, is you. And really, you're just as pretty. Small fingers tap at the screen in front of you, full lips pressed together in a sort of natural pout, and bright eyes hide beneath the hat included in your uniform.

You're beautiful.

You're just not her.

"Good morning, what can I get for you today?"

Expectant eyes stare back at him and Hanbin feels his cheeks flush, hoping they're not as pink as they feel. Even more so, he hopes you don't realize that he's just been staring like an idiot.

"Right," he finally breathes out upon realizing he needs to answer you, feeling jittery enough without the coffee. He wants to ask you where she is, if she's not working today, but it's obvious that's the case and he can't risk any more warmth in his cheeks than he's already suffered from.

"Actually, do you have any recommendations?"

He has no clue what to get, doesn't know what he would like, but he would feel silly for walking in here and leaving with nothing and he's already embarrassed himself enough, he's sure.

Thankfully, you're patient with him. You can tell he's a little nervous, can see it in the way his teeth dig into the soft flesh of his lower lip and his long fingers tap on the granite counter top separating the two of you. You don't know why he's come in here this way, but you can't help but find it cute, endearing even, if nothing else, and the fact that he's already attractive helps.

After settling on something that has a lot of creamer and sugar, making it taste less like coffee than anything, Hanbin feels more satisfied than when he had first come in here. A taste test allows him to spend a few extra minutes with you, the line behind him nonexistent, and he decides now is his chance.

"I don't even like coffee."

The words fall from his mouth without a second thought and it's not until the prettiest laugh comes from yours that he realizes what he's said fully, his cheeks warm and a goofy smile stretching his lips.

"So why did you really come in here?" Is your response, amusement dancing in your eyes and a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He's charming without even trying and it's almost intimidating that someone could hold your attention so easily.

Hanbin could've told you the real reason why he came here. Could have told you that he wanted a chance to talk to the pretty girl from his calculus class after finding out she worked here, thinking he could grab her number and the rest would be history. But funny enough, he can't allow the words to leave his mouth when he's looking at you, pretty eyes waiting expectantly, hopefully, and suddenly he's sure of his answer.

"I thought buying coffee was the only excuse I had to talk to a pretty girl," he admits, dark eyes dancing with a smile that reflects the one on his mouth.

When he finally left, all smiles and jittery hands, he did so with the promise of seeing you again and your number safely stored into his phone.

-

Your first date had him in shambles. Even after Bobby had helped him get ready, which mostly consisted of teasing him for being so nervous, Hanbin couldn't calm his fluttering heart. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so nervous around a girl, but he also couldn't remember any whose eyes shined when they laughed or whose smile made him do the same as if out of instinct, like he couldn't help it.

Bobby had tried to convince him to take you out to dinner, somewhere nice with an expensive menu, despite the fact that you were both working college students. He had said it would set him apart from the other guys, that she would be impressed with his choice. But he didn't think you would like that, didn't think it suited someone like you, and when he spent the entire night watching you glow while you walked through the aquarium together, he knew he made the right decision.

Talking to you was so easy. He’d been worried it would be awkward, that he would inevitably suffer from his own demise and become unable to come up with anything to talk about. But for the most part, you did all the talking. You told him about your family, about your classes and what you hoped to accomplish in the future. And when you finally looked at him with a hint of pink coloring the apples of your cheeks, apologizing for “babbling”, he couldn’t help but immediately shut down your fears, a soft smile on his face while he insisted that he wanted to hear more. Apparently that was enough for you if the smile in your eyes was any indication because you continued gracing his ears with the sound of your voice for the rest of the night. 

When he took you back to your dorm, a blanket of disappointment hugged his body. He had spent all night with you, probably longer than either of you had planned on, and he knew he would be exhausted in the morning for his early classes. But listening to you talk about your life, about the future you had planned and your dreams of pursuing something your family didn't think was possible for you; it all left him wanting more. He was in awe of you, of everything you stood for and everything you embodied. He couldn't believe he was lucky enough to know anything about you.

"I had a really nice time tonight," You finally say quietly when the two of you are standing in front of your door. The end of the night has come and Hanbin selfishly wishes he had more of you, that he could have you as long as he wanted whenever he pleased. Fuck, was he attached.

Hanbin knew he should respond, should tell you how good of a time he had and that he would love to do it again. But there's a look to you that has him hesitating on that, his gaze searching yours for an answer to a question that he's unsure of. Telling you the obvious seems so stupid and the closer his mouth gets to yours until he can feel your breath against his lips answers the unasked question dangling on the tip of his tongue, mouths pressing together in what feels like the equivalent to a sigh of relief, to the climax of a novel.

You had him completely. Hook, line, and sinker.

-

Your first fight was so incredibly stupid. Missed calls, short messages back and forth, and rain checks on dates all lead to one explosive yelling match between the two of you. He knew it would come to a head at some point, could feel the tension building between the two of you, but he regretted every nasty thing that left his mouth when it finally happened, the words feeling like acid on his tongue when he saw the way your eyes glistened with unshed tears, when he saw the way you turned your head away from him so he wouldn't be able to see them when they finally did escape.

You were standing on the other side of your room, arms wrapped around your torso and your head bent, letting out every frustration you felt through the tears rolling down your cheeks and the quiet sobs shaking your body. It felt like a knife to his ribs to see you this way, to know that he held any sort of responsibility for it, and more than anything, it made him realize just how fucking badly he needed you.

"Baby," came his soft tone after a few minutes of silence save for your quiet cries, "I'm sorry.."

You didn't stop crying. You didn't even turn to look at him, couldn't see how sincere he was being, and it only pained him more to realize that maybe you couldn't look at him.

It was then that Hanbin moved closer to you, his hands gentle when taking your hips into his grip. You were tense at first and it killed him, hating the idea of his touch ever causing that sort of reaction. But his arms sliding around you from behind and replacing the way you hugged yourself melted something inside of you, giving you a sense of safety that your own arms could never give you. He was everything you yearned for and it's all you had been wanting over the last few weeks. It was silly to think that your schedules wouldn't conflict, but the way the both of you handled it was even sillier and you felt guilty as he held you, his breath warm against the back of your neck as he mumbled sweet affirmations into your skin.

When he finally managed to get you to face him, he still held you, but this time with his hands cupping your face, thumbs stroking the apples of your cheeks to catch any remaining tears falling.

"I'm so fucking sorry," he tells you again, dark eyes holding a sincerity you know he could never fake. Everything he did was out of love from the way he looked at you to the way he pressed sweet kisses to your face, making sure to touch every inch that tears had passed through and more in his attempt to apologize.

Kissing lead to touching and touching lead to trusting. Trusting him enough to let him lay you down, enough to let his hands rid you of every piece of clothing hiding your bare and most vulnerable form from him. It was then, with his lips pressed to the hollow of your neck and your chest pressed to his, the Korean boy buried between your legs that he told you he loved you for the first time in a breathy, broken voice the moment your high was coming down and it felt like you were on cloud fucking nine.

Nothing, the both of you were sure, would ever top that moment.

-

Christmas came so much faster than either of you had expected. Months of you spending time together only felt like seconds and Hanbin was sure this was what being in love was supposed to feel like.

The holidays were here and after gushing to your respective families about one another, it was no surprise that the excitement of meeting everyone was settling in the pits of your stomachs. For Hanbin, and he was sure you felt the same, this was more than telling his family he had a new girlfriend. You were the one he included when he talked about his future, his dreams, and it was important that this time was used to show the people he cared most about that he had found the person now included in that circle.

"Are you sure you're not going to fall asleep again?" You had asked him, an amused smile on your lips as you took in your sleepy boyfriend. 

It was early in the morning; too early for either of you, really. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, early hints of pinks and shades of orange kissing the sky. You both would like to admire the pretty view if time permitted you, but unfortunately home is far from campus, and you need to leave soon if you’re going to make it there on time. 

"I'm sure," Hanbin had responded with a soft chuckle, pressing a kiss to your mouth for good measure. You seemed to accept his words more when his mouth was pressed to yours and he was more than happy to oblige.

Heading out to the parking lot, Hanbin helped get your suitcases into your car, making sure there was enough room for everything. The plan was to meet you there tomorrow morning since he had one more exam to take. He wanted to go with you, knowing it would make him less nervous with your hand in his when he finally arrived to your parents' house, but he needed to do well on this last exam.

"I'll be up there first thing tomorrow morning," Hanbin assures you, his mouth feeling like a magnet from the way it almost immediately finds yours afterwards.

You smile when the two of you separate, admiring the way the falling snow clings to his eyelashes for a moment before finally melting. He watches you get into your car, waits until you're pulling out of the parking lot, until you're too far for him to see you anymore.

He didn't know it was the last time he would see you.

-

He wakes to something cold on his face. Instinctively, his fingers brush his cheeks, but when he pulls them away to examine the culprit, he realizes they are his own tears.

Sitting up from the stiff, half-frozen grass beneath him, Hanbin takes a moment to look around. He's the only one here, as usual. The guilty habit has eaten him up inside and worried friends and family, but he can’t bring himself to stop. One year later and he still finds himself lost, wandering, until he ends up at the one spot that brings him any sort of solace.

Turning slightly, his dark eyes find the cement headstone that stands before the spot where you rest. The moment that he lays his gaze on it usually sends him into tears, unable to find any regular breathing to calm him down, but today is different. The cold air breathes some sort of life into him, it feeling refreshing rather than suffocating, and for once he doesn't have to fight for air.

Confusion makes his thoughts hazy, but when he looks up at the sky, a blanket of solace wraps around him. Dawn brings hues of oranges and pinks to paint the cloudless skies, and for the first time since you left him, he feels your presence again.