#he's the most dramatic man in the galaxy

[thefrogdalorian]

din djarin + dramatic entrances

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙟𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨 ✿

characters: jing yuan x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, bad attempt at humor, reader is immortal, established relationship, jing yuan being jealous, found family slightly in there, yanqing coming in at the wrong time pt19487288482877

notes: i have fed yall enough horny food. now its time for fluff food aka small dosage of serotonin. open wideeeee🚂🚂🚂

the constant noise of your irritated lover was something that you disregarded with little to no attention. you could feel it after all. that familiar feeling of your husband’s eyes boring into the back of your skull like the insanely heavy glaive he carries. it wasn’t exactly a common feeling to receive but on the moments that it happens, you could never forget the feeling.

you can just imagine it already. the pout pulling on the white haired man’s lips, the slight narrowing of his eyes, the impatient thumps of his feet rapidly hitting the floor as small sparks of lightning would float around him. of course, you can’t forget the iconic, “what about me?” puppy eyes he pulls.

“beloved” the deep baritone voice of jing yuan calls out, sounding way too serious for anyone’s comfort. if his soldiers that stand guard inside his office would still be around, they would be shivering in their armory from the sheer amount of unsettling feeling it brought. it wasn’t like that they have never seen their general angry or serious. it was just that, it rarely happens and so much fewer now since he was nearing his retirement.

turning around from what you were most greatly occupied with, you give him a few seconds of acknowledgment. finally, you were looking at him now. your eyes on him, the brightest stars he loved to gaze into even as the ever burning ones around him twinkles. you were always his favorite.

“jing yuan” you simply hum with a nod before turning back to what you were obsessing over. the loud dramatic gasp that comes from where your husband is barely fazes you, as you knew he was simply trying to get your attention. you knew your husband like the back of your hand and you knew for a fact that he wasn’t hurt as he shows himself to be.

“how dare you!” the man’s voice raises a bit, the sound of his steps sounding heavier than usual as he finally comes behind you to sweep you up into his arms. you immediately let out a soft grunt, feeling his strong arms tighten around you possessively as he refuses to let you go. instead, he pulls your smaller form flush against himself, face buried into the crook of your neck with a "hmph!". such a big baby you were married to.

"jing yuan, let go of me" you say, not bothering to wiggle yourself out of his grasp since you knew it would be an impossible task. your husband can be dangerously clingy and possessive at times and this was definitely one of those times.

"nuh.." your husband immediately rebuttals, shaking his face and proceeding to nuzzle his face further into the crook of your neck. deeply inhaling your scent, you could see his broad shoulders visibly relax and slump to indicate that he was calming down from his earlier mini temper tantrum. the two of you stay like that for a while. you, held captive in his arms as your husband takes his time to cuddle you close to himself. as close as fleshly possible. not even single moment for something else to wedge between the two of you, not even the cool air of his office. if there were to be the smallest bit of distance between the two of you, he would be extremely deprived of his already dangerously low level of [name] affections.

you had been away to the xianzhou zhuming for a business trip. as one of the most accomplished merchant and the head of the trade association, sometimes your work required you to move back and forth between places, worlds and even galaxies. and this time was no different as your business partner of long time in the xianzhou zhuming had come to a stalemate in their business there due to the ipc's recent dabbling in the xianzhou alliance's trading business. it had dragged on way longer than what you would've liked which also translated to an extended period of time of not seeing your husband, your son and daughter all together. a time away that your clingy husband took very badly, even worse than your son and daughter.

but not for you, as the first thing you did upon coming back from the trip and stepping in through the large doors of his office was to head straight towards your daughter - mimi. the large lion was sulking quietly in his office ever since you went away for your business trip, constantly pawing at jing yuan's clothes and whining for your presence. and upon seeing your face, she immediately pounced in your direction, wasting no time as she pushed you down into the hologram showcasing the large starchess board as she licked all over your face. an act of affection that you returned with a hearty laugh and kisses to her adorable fluffy face. an act of affection that your husband was very very very jealous of.

he was supposed to be the one to tackle you down and pepper your face in kisses and in return have his face peppered in kisses in return! not mimi!

and yes, jing yuan was jealous over his own fluffy daughter stealing his spouse away from him. blatantly, unabashedly, without shame was jealous over. which led to now, in you being trapped in his inescapable hold. really, the galls of this man.

"mmrrp? mrreeow?" mimi meows, butting her head against jing yuan's legs to get his attention while also making it sound as if she wanted the attention back on her again. it was tough having not one but two needy lions scampering for your attention.

"mimi, you have already had enough of their attention. now it's my turn with my own spouse!" jing yuan chides the lion softly, making her let out an irritated huff. mimi wanted her parent's attention but jing yuan also wanted his spouse's attention. it was a tug of war between the two lions with you as their unfortunate victim.

after many back and forths between the two lions, jing yuan had decided he had enough and decided to swoop you off of your feet. quite literally. the smug bastard had kicked your legs under you, making you fall back into a dip with a startled gasp. giving you an "i told you so" look, your husband cups your cheek in the palm of his hand before leaning in to place a fluffy of kisses on your face. cheeks, the bridge of your nose, forehead, chin, eyelids, lips - nowhere was free from the mercy of his kisses and jing yuan was going to make the whole world be reminded that you two were happily married.

"general! i heard that [name]'s bac-EWWWW!!!" the sudden barging in of you two's son is what finally separates you from his barrage of kisses. turning to look at his son, jing yuan makes a shooing motion with his hand - momentarily letting go of you cheek in the process - with mimi.

"me and [name] are busy right now, yanqing. take mimi out for a walk for an hour or two" the white haired man says without an ounce of shame, your breathless self still in his hold. reluctantly, yanqing does as told, calling mimi to his side to leave you two lovebirds be for some time. but not without one final word of advice.

"wait until back home at least, you two!!" and with that, your son and daughter were gone, leaving you both behind to have at least a small dose of affection that the both of you were deprived off of. with an amused chuckle at his son's words, he shakes his head before turning to you with his resting cat face. pair of golden eyes crinkling as mirth and devotion dance in them while his lips pull upwards into the genuine smiles he permanently has on his face whenever you were in his line of sight. all jing yuan could do was thank the reignbow arbiter and every aeons out there for granting him to be able to live in the same time as you.

"how i am blessed to be with you, my most beloved"

[phoenixkaptain]

Obi-Wan: “Did you know that Anakin is still alive?”

Bail: “Skywalker? No way! There’s no way that Anakin Skywalker lived for twenty years without getting on at least half of the galaxy’s nerves or being the most dramatic man in the room or without fighting a ten-year-old or oh my heavens he’s Darth Vader, isn’t he?”

[pinkeos]

Dad!Aventurine Headcanons

Warning/s: None and reader's gender isn't mentioned, whether the child is adopted or your own is up to you

Notes: I wish I had a dad🧍 /j

im fully convinced aventurine is a girl dad and it's hard to convince me otherwise

with his job, dad!aven couldn't spend that much time with his little girl as much as he wanted, the days where he wasn't needed to leave for different planets were far and between

and when he leaves, it takes weeks to months before he comes home despite trying his very best to finish his assignment quickly so, even though he knows it won't exactly be comparable to his presence in his daughter’s life, he sends gifts and toys. whatever she wanted, he’d give it to her

dad!aven would often call you when he's away, face timing to see and talk to you and your daughter. it'd send a pang of guilt and pain in his heart to see the frown and the tears she held back whenever he said he wouldn't be home yet

he’d be the type to rewatch the videos you’d send of you and your kid just enjoying your days whenever he misses you both, a smile on his face as he grows more determined to finish his work to come home to you

he loves his family, and treats you two as his most precious treasures, more precious than anything else in the galaxy. you’re the only ones he has left, after all. he thought his luck had ran out when you and your daughter entered his life, because he couldn't get any luckier

but whenever the man’s home, oh boy does the house get so lively

dad!aven would go along with his daughter’s wishes, doing whatever she wanted so you often had to help your husband wipe the thick make up off of his face that your daughter applied on him when they played

you remember walking in on them having a pretend tea party where they gossiped about the other ‘guests’ which were her plushies, he looked like he was enjoying it more than your daughter

they'd make bracelets together, and he'd proudly wear the bracelet his daughter made for him even though the colors didn't really look that good together or with his outfit. in his eyes, it was perfect and he'd bring it up to whoever he was talking to at work even though no one asked

dad!aven would be the type to sneak sweets for your daughter even though you told him not to because dinner was almost done, he was a victim to your daughter’s puppy eyes and pout

he once spent a day out to bond with his daughter, insisting you go and rest and have some you time while he takes care of your daughter. you later found out he took her to the casino, and the way you scolded their ears off after made him remind himself not to do it again

dad!aven was an entirely different person than the aventurine of the ten stonehearts. he was but a loving father that treasured both you and his daughter

“daddy, move! you’re heavy!” your daughter whined as she tried to push her father who was leaning against her on the couch as they waited for you to finish preparing for the day out

aventurine dramatically gasped, looking down at his daughter with a faux offended look, “do you not want my love and affection anymore?”

the child, who genuinely thought she hurt her father's feelings, stammered, “n-no!”

“‘no’?” he echoed, his acting skills quite helpful when teasing his little girl as he looked away, sniffing as if he was actually crying

“i-i mean!” she stood on the couch, wrapping her short arms around his shoulders, “i still want daddy’s hugs! even when im older! i don't want you to leave again!”

his teasing might've gotten a bit too far when she began to sob, aventurine internally panicked as he embraced her, rubbing her back, “hey now, daddy was just teasing.”

“why is our little girl crying, kakavasha?”

the moment he heard your voice, he knew he was done for

[ladykailitha]

The Fallen

I blame @vecnuthy for this entirely. Seeing all their Sleep Token posts has completely intersected with Steddie and you get this.

***

Modern AU: Corroded Coffin makes it big. Like Metallica levels huge. Like every up and coming metal band is clamoring to open for them levels of fame. When this metal band, The Fallen comes on the scene and are dismissed as glam rock wannabes.

They are very theatrical. They are dressed in long coats with hoods and face masks. The guitarist, bassist, and drummer all have full Venetian masks of different colors. The bassist has one that looks like a starry night (but not Starry Night if you know what I mean). The Guitarist has a red devil’s mask, horns and all. The drummer is in a black death mask. The eyes of the mask are closed and it looks eerie as fuck. The most dramatic of the masks belong to the lead singer. He wears an opaque white lace mask with the mouth and chin cut out so he can sing.

Their outfits match their masks.

The lead singer, Abbadon, the fallen angel is in all in white with a splash of color on the lining of his coat. Sometimes it’s pink or baby blue, sometimes it one of the colors of bandmates, black or red or starry midnight blue. He wears high heeled boats and not always of the combat variety. Once he wore stilettos with a baby blue stripe up the side. It’s the outfit that gets made into dolls and merch the most. Most of the time he’s shirtless, but has been known to switch it up with lace or sheer tops.

The guitarist plays up the devil persona to a tee and calls himself Asmodeus, the demon of lust. Red leather and fetish gear. Thick red combat boots. His guitar is even blood red.

The bassist is called Astraeus, the titan of the night. While in certain light his clothes look black, but they are in fact a dark blue with bright stars, swirling galaxies, and glowing nebulae. His bass is of the night sky as well.

And finally the drummer, Azrael. Angel of death. Always in black. His drum kit is black with black metal fittings. Even his drumsticks are black.

Like I said, at first dismissed as wannabes but they are killing it. It’s clear that not only are they talented, their flare for the dramatic adds to their mystique. Soon they are the new rising stars of metal.

Dustin is their biggest fan. He loves them. Eddie is offended at the highest level. How dare this little butthead like The Fallen. Dustin rolls his eyes.

“Dude, Corroded Coffin is still number one in my book,” he tells Eddie. “But you can’t deny that Abbadon is a beast on vocals.”

Eddie is forced to concede the point. Abbadon knows how to really get the through to the emotion of a song.

So when Dustin gets front row tickets to The Fallen’s concert in Indy, Eddie reluctantly joins the little twerp.

And the concert starts. First the drummer gets lowered into his seat on giant raven wings.

“Azrael!” the announcer calls out.

And the crowd goes wild.

The man slips out of the harness and wings ascend. Eddie cocks his head, yeah all right that’s kinda cool.

Azrael hits his drums and the bassist gets lowered on to the stage. All shimmering blues and purples, like actual stars, lands deftly on the stage and Azrael hits the high hat.

“Astraeus!”

The crowd is frantic now. Screaming and jumping up and down.

As soon as the wings are unstrapped and lifted away Astraeus riffs on his bass and the crowd eats it up.

Eddie likes this one. It’s unique.

Then Azrael starts up again as another man is lowered and it takes everything in Eddie’s power not to roll his eyes at this one. Red leather gear, horned mask, and fucking bat wings.

He stomps on the stage and really wails on his guitar. Eddie looks over to see that Dustin is absolutely eating it with the rest of them so he wisely keeps his mouth shut.

“Asmodeus!”

Dustin is vibrating so hard that Eddie’s fears he might literally crawl out of his skin with excitement.

And then the entire stadium goes silent. Like stock still. Eddie is looking around him confused.

He looks back at the stage and there descends the absolute most devastatingly handsome man Eddie has ever seen and he hasn’t seen his face.

His arms are out stretched and his head is bowed. Once he lands air cannons shoot out white feathers out at the crowd and the wings ascend without this man.

“Abbadon!” the announcer screams for the final time.

“Indy!” he shouts into his mouthpiece.

And the crowd screams could deafen the most resilient of metal goer.

Abbadon starts singing and the crowd is losing their god damn minds. And yeah, yeah. Eddie is one of them.

They’ve got a stage presence that can’t be manufactured.

And then about half way through the concert he sees it. Abbadon turns his head just right and holy fuck, Eddie is losing his mind for a different reason. He manages to take a picture with his phone before Abbadon turns.

After the concert Eddie grills Dustin about the band all the way home. But the only thing the kid knows is how awesome the band is.

He gets to the hotel and starts watching every interview with The Fallen ever. And he pulls up one from about a year or so back where Abbadon is talking about the masks.

Abbadon pulls out a black mask and holds it up to the light. “See? You can tell that the eyes have mesh covering over them. They work the way two way mirrors do. Azrael can see out of them just fine, but you can’t see in.”

There are a lot of impressed nods, Eddie is definitely one of them. That’s certainly a neat trick.

“So what’s the reason for the masks at all?” the interviewer asks.

Abbadon looks at the members of his band and they all nod. He licks his lips.

“Because if we had been ourselves when we started on the scene,” he said, “we would have be called posers and we wouldn’t have even gotten this far.”

Eddie paused the video and took a deep breath.

Fuck.

Just then Jeff wanders into the hotel room and looks at the TV.

“Is that The Fallen?”

Eddie hums. “Yup.”

Jeff grabs a drink from the mini-fridge and makes his way over. “Oh hey is that poser interview?”

Eddie hums again.

“He can’t really be serious about that,” Jeff says with a huff. “No one in the metal scene would call anyone posers, not if they truly loved the music.”

“We would have,” Eddie says with a finality that brings Jeff up short.

“The fuck we would have, man,” Jeff snaps. “There’s no way.”

“We would have it was Steve Harrington’s band.”

Jeff’s eyes go wide. “There is no way that’s Steve Harrington.”

Eddie pulls out his phone and zooms in on Abbadon’s neck. He hands his phone to Jeff.

“Okay so the dude has moles on his neck,” he says handing the phone back, “lots of people have them.”

Eddie goes through his phone and pulls up a picture of Steve. He’s not in the exact same pose but it’s close enough. He hands the phone to Jeff again.

Jeff squints and then zooms in.

“Holy fucking shit!”

Eddie drapes his hand over his mouth and purses his lips.

“Steve Harrington in a metal band,” Jeff says in awe. “All be damned.”

“When The Fallen came on the scene,” Eddie says dropping his hand so his talk, “we were outselling Metallica in records and ticket sales. If the rest of the band are preps like Steve we would have mocked them relentlessly.”

Jeff sits down hard on the sofa next to Eddie. “Shit.”

Eddie buries his head in his hands.

“We got to tell someone, man,” Jeff says. “This is huge!”

Eddie in his haste to look at Jeff accidentally hits the remote.

“Do you think you’ll ever do a reveal?” the interviewer asks.

Asmodeus leans over to speak in the microphone. “Ask us again in ten years if we’re still selling out crowds.”

Eddie fumbles it again, but manages to turn off the TV.

Jeff and he looks at each other.

“We can’t say shit, man,” Eddie hisses. “It would be like outing someone as gay or trans before they want to.”

Jeff slumps in his seat. “Fuck. Yeah. You’re right. Shit.”

They’re silent for a moment.

Eddie cocks his head to the side. “What I don’t get is how the kids don’t know.”

Jeff opens his mouth and then closes it. He shakes his head slowly. “Sorry but if I was Steve I wouldn’t tell them shit either.”

Eddie frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Look,” Jeff says turning to face him, “they’re great kids. Brilliant D&D players, nerds, geeks, and dorks the lot of them. But I would not trust them with a secret that big.”

Eddie thought about all the time that they accidentally blurted out something that didn’t make sense out of context, but once you knew, holy shit was it a miracle these kids didn’t get into more trouble.

“Yeah okay.”

After a moment of silence Eddie looks over and frowns at Jeff. “What are you doing my hotel room anyway?”

Jeff holds up his beer. “Your beer was cold, I forgot to put mine in the fridge when we got in.”

“Asshole,” Eddie grouses, bumping Jeff’s shoulder.

Jeff kisses his cheek. “You love me though.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

*

Steve is in his dressing room after their last concert of the tour for their second album scrubbing the hell out of his face because that mask is prone to giving him the worst breakouts, when he notices the blue roses.

He gets a lot of flowers but never blue roses. He rinses off his face and walks over to the them.

There’s a note and he thinks he recognizes the handwriting. It’s short and sweet and absolutely terrifying.

“I know your secret, sweetheart. But don’t worry, I’ll never tell.”

It’s not signed, but the ‘sweetheart’ gives it away.

He messages Robin.

“Get Eddie Munson in here right now!”

She protests that she doesn’t know where he is. But Steve knows he has to still be in the building and sure enough she finds Eddie waiting in the wings, looking smug as hell.

Her eyes go wide and cursing up a storm drags him into the dressing room.

She presses her back to the door.

“Who told?” she squeaks.

Eddie laughs. “No one, I swear.”

“Then how did you know?” Steve asks.

He hands Steve his phone with the picture he took at the concert. Robin wanders over to peak over Steve’s shoulder.

“So it’s a picture of his neck,” she murmurs.

But suddenly Steve gets it. “It’s my moles!”

Eddie nods, pressing his lips together so he doesn’t giggle.

“Shit!” Robin hisses. “Do you think anyone else figured it out?”

“I doubt it,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I’m just obsessive that way.”

“About moles?” Robin says with a frown.

“With Steve.”

Robin blinks. “Right I’m out of here.”

She closes the door behind her and they are left alone.

The night ends with Eddie in Steve’s bed asking him for The Fallen to join Corroded Coffin on their next tour next year and there is no way Steve could say no to that. His bandmates would kill him.

They go on tour and the hardest part is dodging rumors that Eddie is two timing Steve with Abbadon because when The Fallen and Corroded Coffin perform together they make out on stage.

Then for The Fallen’s ten anniversary they do a reveal and Dustin is livid.

Robin and Steve had been telling him for years that they were just low level PAs and not a famous rockstar and his equally mysterious manager.

They’re forgiven when Steve tells him that half the songs on the first album are about him and the rest of the kids.

***

This is just a rough draft. I might expand on it in full later.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child

[nuumbie]

KARMA’S A DOG.

Prompt: You’re a prized worker at the IPC Marketing Department. You spend your days waiting for that flash of black.

Trigger Warning: Reader is mentally ill and a little shit head. Curse Words. General Violent Terms and Reader Gets Ragdolled. Boothill is NOT into you!!! He actually hates you! Guilt! Etc, etc… it’s just all hurt no comfort.

Author’s Note: Written to celebrate his trailer. Save a horse. Ride a cowboy. Contains spoilers regarding his character story.

He’s resting peacefully. This should still count as sleep. You pose the question in your head if you replace the pieces of something, how far until the thing is something else entirely. But he’s still alive. You find relish in that.

He still has his head. Maybe, that’s all he has. You wonder how the surgery must have gone. Of course you’ve met people who’ve changed themselves so drastically with robotics that you couldn’t recognize them after the surgeries. It’s a rebirth in ways. When you change so dramatically that you’re a different person by the end. His body’s 90% metal. 10% flesh. So, wouldn’t it be the cybernetics that win?

Despite everything. You don’t think so. Perhaps, that’s all that he needs. I think therefore I am. There’s no doubt he’s alive. Not to you, anyway. He’s brimming with human life. He’s more alive than you. Not in the same way where the question poses in your mind with other beings, or creatures, Boothill is obstinately simple.

You like that. He’s simple. The Hunt is straight forward. A single path. A single road. You like that you don’t have to read his intentions. You know what he wants and why.

Boothill. Galaxy Ranger. IPC Hunter. The Man who just tried to sneak into your office and put a bullet through your head like he has with many of your employees, those who’ve worked directly under you no less. You know. Most criminals don’t get this far. Not far at all past Pier Point. Oswaldo will have a riot.

If he knew he would. You’re not going to tell him.

Boothill is special.

The cowboy opens his eyes. Your personal grim reaper.

“I see you’re awake.” You smile in a loving way. If you can even manage that. People who can control their expressions make it seem so easy. Laying across his chest. You’ve opened up his core to play with his inner circuits. He must not like that, though considering there’s a burning hatred in his eyes which threatens to scorch you. You glance up towards his face and sigh and ignoring the lingering, simmering, resentment. His body is heating up beneath your touch. So, maybe it resonates with his feelings, you wonder if his body steams. “We need to stop meeting like this. You’re going to make me think you’re obsessed with me.”

It’s the opposite way around. You know that. But the very idea that it isn’t causes him to lunge at you. The cowboy turns into nothing more than a blur, all the wires connected to the body collecting samples that took at least a good thirty minutes pulled from him. Some ripped from the walls, and in instants he’s on you.

“You dang—“ his hands make its way to your shoulders, you’re flipped without hesitation. his hands grasping you down, he lays on top of you. breath heavy. robots don’t breathe, though, so you try to think of another word as he catches himself and tries to make it so he’s the one on top. “— you again!?”

“I’ve been meaning to get my hands on you… you oughta’… you ANGEL!” He screeches. Music to your ears as he shakes you more like you’re more ragdoll than person. “AEONS, it’s so freaking annoying! You absolute delight! How did I lose to…”

“Thank you so much for the compliment.” You smile back. Probably the only one getting anything out of this arrangement. Pinned against the floor hand pressed tightly against your waist so you can’t struggle. He should’ve pressed it against your mouth. But it isn’t like you’re going to scream. You’re certain. Lots of women would love to be in this position you’re currently in. But it’s you. And this is far from some sweet, pure, little romantic story. You’re not delusional. Though, you act like you are purely because it annoys him. It’s good for him to build up his rage, his contentment, good. “I was just looking over your upgrades since the last time you invaded Pier Point. As for asking how I beat you~…”

“The electronic upgrade was not the best idea.” You smile. “If we can control your language, your body isn’t hard especially for a renowned genius like me. Have to talk to your doctor about that. You’re lucky I’m the one that found you. Where’s my thanks?”

“Aeons, of COURSE you Market-Phonies have something to annoy the DANGNATION out of me.” he grinds his teeth, looking around for his pistol. making a point about how dead he wants you. you can feel his grip loosen and tighten. he’s likely processing which one would get you to be quieter. “Where’d you put it? My gun. I’ve decided. I’m killing you now. Puttin’ ya out of your misery, sweet-face! You think this is rough? Think of a 9mm lead in your skull will be?”

“Cabinet.” You put on your best smile. “For me?”

“Of course for you. Love you.” You didn’t take away his ability to say hate. So, he must have said something like screw. Or maybe it’s a replacement for something else? You just know it’s bad. “You knew this was coming. I’m not going to miss my shot again. You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

You did know it was coming. You wished he would get the one person above you first so you could witness your boss with his brains blown out, the outcries that an Emanator of Qlipoth killed. You could have gotten wine with Diamond and laughed about it and died happy knowing the world was washed clean forever of Oswaldo Schneider.

But you can’t be so lucky. You’ll have to wish him luck. If he actually manages to kill you that is — you’re not making it hard.

He grabs you by the neck so you can’t struggle away to call help. The iron hands encased over your neck like a shackle isn’t a bad feeling. You almost quote as such so he might grab you a little tighter. Sadly, it seems his finger is directly over your windpipe— making talking an impossibility. He really doesn’t want you to run. Not like you would. Dragging you as he goes towards the cabinet. He presses you against the wall one-handed.

Using his other hand to peruse through your belongings. Even if you struggled. You doubt you could make a dent against the material. You’ve always been more of a pen instead of a sword guy.

It seems he’s smarter than you thought. Since, he checks the bullets in the gun. Rather show-offishly, too. He clicks the trigger against your head and nothing comes out. He counts them out, too. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

You already knew that none of the shots would ring. But here’s a certain heart-pounding feeling even if you know it’s empty. He clutches the gun even tighter.

Obviously, you’ve cleaned them out. He glares at you. Of course you’re the one at fault. Of course you were smart enough to know the first thing he’d do when he woke up was try to kill you. Of course you wanted to see the look on his face when he got his gun back when he realized it was empty. “Don’t you have spares? You eat them, don’t you? Just shit them out.” You smile. It’s hard to talk.

The floor hits you. Hard. Or maybe you hit the floor? Either way. It hurts. Your head spins. But, you collect yourself. Maybe. Dizzy people often can’t tell they’re dizzy. “You going to kill me right? You don’t need a gun to do that. To make it painful. To get your little revenge.” You’re sputtering. Aeons. It be embarrassing if you didn’t say that. If you’re slurring. Though who are you to ask for a clean death?

“I don’t get you.” Boothil’s boot presses against your chest— “make up your mind, you wanna die or not? You’re seriously flip-flopping.”

You smile back at him from the floor. “I’d rather my employees not go down with me when you’ve got to escape. Jeremy just got a promotion. You won’t die here, will you space cowboy? So, you’ll have to make your way out.”

“Might as well limit the casualties.”

“You took everything from me.” Robots don’t stumble over their words. Robots don’t hold grudges. People do. People live for others. “What right do you have? You have way more blood on your hands than I do.”

“You’re not wrong.” you repeat, quietly. “It’s karma. It’s justice. I’m so happy you exist.”

“I could never ever dream of it. I could never.” You smile. “So I’m glad that you did. Thank you.”

He looks down at you.

He steps back. You already know. Too self-aware for your own good.

Maybe you should have shut up. You already know you’ve messed it all up. The way he looks at you.

“Everyone here’s so fluffed up.” he grimaces. rubbing his shoe against the floor. “Anyone the IPC touches get’s gosh-dang ruined.”

You know why he did. You ruined his life. You did. So, it was only fair he did the same in return—

Reaching out— before you realize it. “Hey, wait.”

“You’re not dragging me down with you! I want you to pay I’m not letting you off easy. When we meet again. I’ll have changed this place forever. And you’ll be forced to live with yourself.”

He doesn’t even look at you.

He lets you go and he runs out the door. You hear the sounds of loud screams. Shooting guns. It turns into a blur after a few seconds. They’re going to fail to apprehend him. You hope.

On the messy floor. Your lab a wreak. You’re sure. They’ll come here. They’ll question you.

You’ll lie. Jade can tell. But she won’t tell on you.

“Fuck you, too.”

You put your hands over your eyes and you just ignore everything until someone comes and gets you.

You’ll meet him again. You can wait. It’s all you ever do.

[pupkashi]

scrapbooks

satoru doesn’t get the point of scrapbooks, until he does

a/n: hi hi ! wrote this silly little thing on a whim, i hope u guys like it !! plz let me know what y’all think :3

wordcount: 1,013

masterlist

satoru claims he’s not a sentimental person.

what’s so great about life that you’d want to be reminded of daily tasks?

he never kept receipts, he never took pictures, never kept any souvenirs. saturo was simply not a nostalgic or sentimental person

you were the most sentimental person he’d ever met.

every outing he’d ever seen you at you were talking selfies with friends, stuffing receipts in your pockets and any other little things. he still recalls the look on your face when he caught you shoving a small flower into your bag, ‘it’s for my scrapbook’ you had explained, smiling up at him nervously.

life is so fleeting, why wouldn’t you want to remember every passing moment with those you love and care for?

anytime the two of you left tokyo for missions together, he always ended up in a gift shop, him trailing you as you bought souvenirs for the others, getting yourself a postcard to write on, documenting the day and placing it in a box in your room.

satoru wasn’t sentimental, until he found himself falling in love.

he found himself pulling his phone out a bit more often, “pose guys!” he grinned, the camera already flashing as his friends laughter echoed in his ears, your giggles making his smile grow even wider.

after the two of you went to watch a movie together, he caught himself putting the ticket stub gently behind his black card in his wallet. the polaroid picture of the two of you from last month staring him in the face anytime he opened his wallet.

he has a pressed rose petal nestled in the pages of his brand new scrapbook, a reminder of the day he asked you to be his.

you didn’t catch onto his antics until after one of your dates, satoru reaching for the receipt before you could.

“oh! can i keep it?” you giggled, “I wanna put in my scrapbook rather than you just throwing it out.” satoru’s ears burning red as he held the receipt.

in the two seconds he stared at the receipt his mind raced. what should he say? ‘no i wanna keep this to remember this date years to come’ or maybe ‘yeah sure.’ does he play it cool? should he keep his newfound nostalgic side a secret?

“i wasn’t gonna throw it out” he smiled sheepishly, “i started uh keeping stuff.”

“really?”

“really” he laughs, smiling at you when your mouth hangs open a bit. “is it so hard to believe that i would have a scrapbook of my own?” he pouts.

“you have a scrapbook?” you grin, eyes widening. satoru’s blush only grew deeper, lips pouting a bit as he turned to look to the side.

“i mean yeah it’s not anything crazy” he mumbles, fiddling with the receipt in his hands, “sometimes you just wanna remember things or whatever.”

you found it hard to believe that the man sat across from you was the same one who had groaned when you made him stop for souvenirs on your first mission together.

“did you replace my satoru? should i be concerned right now?” you tease, narrowing your eyes at him.

satoru can only roll his eyes, stuffing the receipt into his pocket before standing up and holding his hand out for you.

“so I’m your satoru now?” he smiles, the bright red reducing itself to a tinge of pink as he teases you, his usual cockiness returning with the glint in his eyes.

“we are dating aren’t we?” you quipped, eyes narrowing at him as the two of you walked into the warm air outside. “or are you trying to imply you aren’t mine” you pout, a dramatic sigh leaving your lips as you turn to face opposite satoru.

“cmon sweetheart you know I’m all yours” he smiles, his arm wrapping around your waist and much too easily pulling you into his chest. “no one else for me but you,” his words sincere as they settle on your ears, your heart thumping against your rib cage as you smile up at him.

satoru wishes he could capture the look in your eyes, the glimmer of galaxies that he could spend hours on end exploring. he wishes he could have this moment engraved into his heart and never forget even a second of the day.

but then again, he thinks that anytime he’s around you. he wishes he could keep photos of everytime you smile, he wishes he could record every second of your laughter and tattoo the way you smile up at him when he flusters you.

life with you moved quickly in the best ways possible, he found the moments around you too fleeting for his liking.

satoru found himself taking pictures and videos anytime the two of you were out or together, a whole album full of you and whatever the two of you were doing. his scrapbook is slowly filling up with receipts, letters, flower petals, and everything that makes up your relationship.

and it’s as he’s snapping a picture of you reading, in the comfort of your shared home that he finally understands.

love is what makes life so great.

you are what makes life so amazing. you make him want to remember every second of everyday. you make him want to recall the dozens of times the two of you stood at the kitchen sink, washing and drying dishes. you made him want to cherish the normalcy of everyday life and fleeting moments.

satoru gojo is sentimental.

and he’s reminded of that with every picture he takes of his students, friends and his lover. he’s reminded of the fact when he stuffs receipts into his pockets and souvenirs into the shopping cart.

more importantly, he’s reminded of that when he’s looking at you, like you hung the moon and painted the sky full of stars. he’s trying his best to memorize your every feature, the shape and tint of your lips and the hue of your eyes.

satoru gojo was in love, and it made him want to remember every second of everyday.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @orihimeii

[firstofficerwiggles]

A Beskar Valentine

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: ~2300

Warnings: Just lots of fluff with a little kissing. Also Din being a bit clueless when it comes to romance.

Author’s note: Happy Valentine’s Day, my darlings! I thought you’d all enjoy some fluffy Valentine’s day fun with Din. Whether you love this day or despise it, just know that Din adores you! 

“I brought you a new rock.”

You turn around from the shelf you were just reorganizing to see your favorite customer, Nevarro’s favorite Mandalorian, Din Djarin. You’re about to thank him, when a loud coo breaks in.

“We brought you a new rock,” Din corrects himself, as his little green baby wants you to know that he was also part of the mission. Not that you think finding a pretty rock for you was the mission, but it’s so nice that Din thinks about you when he’s away.

“Thank you so much, to both of you,” you reply with a smile and a pat on the head for little Grogu, “I’m excited to add it to my collection.”

Din has been bringing you rocks from his travels for a few years now. It started when he was a bounty hunter. Whenever he was on Nevarro, he would stop by your shop, a sort-of general store, and buy different supplies. You didn’t think he’d ever taken much notice of you, he barely even spoke to you, but one day after you gave him his bundle of goods, he placed a shiny red stone in your hand.

“I found this on Mustafar, bounty fell right next to it, I thought you’d like another one for your shelf,” he had told you as he pointed to the display shelf next to the desk where your register was located. 

There was a small pink rock there, one that you’d found on a walk one day. You’d placed it there because it was pretty. Rather bemused, you placed the new red rock next to the pink one. 

“Thank you very much,” you replied, smiling at the mysterious helmeted man. 

He simply nodded and ever since then, he’d shown up from time to time with a new and interesting rock for you. You like to say he’s your friend, even if most of your encounters have just been right here in the shop. There were a few times he asked you to go on a walk with him, which you gladly did. You had hoped those walks might turn into something more, but it seems it wasn’t in the stars. Instead Din has been rather occupied with saving his son as well as the rest of the galaxy from evil, or at least that’s how you like to think of it. 

You look at the new rock he’s placed in your hands; it’s very shiny, a bright grey, almost silver and shaped like a heart. 

“It’s beautiful, Din, I love it,” you tell him, your voice soft. 

You look at your rock shelf, adorned with all the tokens he’s gifted you. You practically melt, out of all the pretty stones he’s brought you, this new one looks the most romantic. You try not to think too much into it, but still, your own heart likes to hope.

“I thought it looked a bit like beskar,” he comments in a thoughtful voice. He tips his helmet at you in what you’ve determined is his ‘thinking expression’.

“It does, a beskar heart, it’s perfect for you,” you reply, finding a special place for it on the shelf, right in the middle where it stands out.

“I thought you’d like it,” he states, “It came from Mandalore.”

“That’s incredible,” you say, touching the rock again, “I heard there was quite a battle there. I’m glad you’re alright, you and the little one. I have to admit I was worried for you when you left last time.”

Not to be too dramatic, but you thought you might never see him again. You figured the fighting would be fierce after seeing the way the Mandalorians fought off the pirates on Navarro. And although you had faith in Din as a fighter, you sort of figured he’d make Mandalore his home.

“You’re sweet to be worried about me,” Din says, “But as you can see, we’re back home no worse for the wear.”

“Home?” you can’t hide the note of hope in your voice.

“Yes, Magistrate Karga granted me a nice track of land, and we have a home there now,” he explains proudly, “I’d like to invite you to come see it, maybe the day after tomorrow?” He suggests. You can’t be sure but he almost sounds a touch nervous as he asks.

“I’d love to come see your new home,” you respond eagerly. 

“Good, we’ll pick you up in the speeder at 5 in the evening,” Din says, knowing exactly when you usually close up the shop.  

With reassurances that you’ll see them soon, you wrap up a few treats for Grogu and Din to enjoy at home and you wave to them as they head off.

“I think she really liked the rock, buddy,” Din says to Grogu as they walk home. “And soon she’ll get to see the nice home we’ve made. I really hope she likes it.” 

Din has planned his entire home with exactly two people in mind, his magical son, Grogu and you, his sweetheart. He’s been courting you for years now, and it’s about time he made you an official offer of marriage. He’s wanted to ask you to be his riduur for a while, but the timing was always off. But now, he has a home and a new job with the Republic, he knows he can be a good and supportive husband to you.

Grogu is babbling at him, he points towards the front yard of the home as they arrive.

“Yes, buddy, I’m sure she’ll enjoy playing with you and seeing your frog pond too,” Din tells him. He notices that Grogu has already managed to open the package of treats you gave them.

Din laughs, “She knows your favorite foods already, I’d say if either of us has the luck to charm her, you’re our best bet.”

Din spends the next day putting all the finishing touches on the house. He wants it all to look its absolute best for your visit. Grogu has been helping too. He’s drawn several pictures that are now hanging up all around the walls. There might be a couple that were drawn directly on the wall, but Grogu was so proud of them that Din didn’t have the heart to scold him. Instead he dropped a kiss on Grogu’s head and told him,

“You’re quite the artist, son.”

At 5 on the dot, Din’s speeder pulls up to your door. Grogu is strapped into a baby seat in the backseat, waving at you merrily. Din hops out so that he can help you in, and you’re impressed once again by how much of a gentleman he always is. 

“What’s all this?” he asks as he sees your arms filled with packages.

“Oh a few housewarming gifts,” you say with a smile, “And a present for the baby.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” Din replies, sincerely. 

The drive to his land is brief and Din points out various landmarks and sights on the way. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was trying to impress you. When you pull up in front of his house, the sun is just starting to set, turning his home a lovely golden color. You could not have a better introduction to the place. It looks cozy and welcoming, exactly the type of house you wish you could have instead of the cramped apartment above your shop. 

“Oh Din, it’s charming,” you breath out your praise in a happy sigh. 

“I’m pleased you think so,” Din responds, his voice a bit gruffer than usual. He clears his throat, “Let me show you around.”

With a hand at the small of your back, Din guides you around his new house. Grogu toddles ahead pointing out different things and sometimes floating them towards you with a wave of his hand. You know he has powers, but seeing them in action makes you gasp a few times. 

“Everything looks so nice, you’ve both made a lovely home,” you tell them as you walk through the rooms. 

Din insists on showing you every little thing about the house, asking your opinion and seeming genuinely interested in hearing it. 

“And now it’s time for my favorite part, the backyard,” Din says with a small flourish as he throws the back door open and reveals a nice garden that has recently been planted. There are a few hearty flowering plants and a little vegetable and herb garden too. There is also a small stone path leading to the middle where there is a pretty mosaic of different colored rocks with several red colored stones making a heart. There are a couple lounge chairs there too, making it a nice place to sit and enjoy the fresh air.

Grogu tugs at your leg, urging you forward to see all the pretty rocks.

“Patu!” he says, sounding proud and happy, at least from your perspective. 

“It’s lovely, Grogu, very pretty,” you reply encouragingly and the baby babbles more at you.

“He and I want to know if you like your rock garden? We both worked on it together,” Din tells you. 

“What? My rock garden? You- you made this for me?” You are utterly stunned to hear this.

“Yes, we both wanted a special place for you,” Din replies. You can’t see his face of course but you could swear he must be smiling.

“Why? I don’t understand,” you tell him looking perplexed. You can’t fathom why he would make something like this for you at his house.

“Well, you’re my sweetheart, and I know I haven’t made you a formal offer, but after about four years of courting, I’m hoping that someday soon this will be your house too,” Din sounds sweet and hopeful. 

You stare at Din with your mouth opened in pure shock. You don’t have any idea how to respond to that. Your mind is reeling. The word sweetheart keeps repeating in your head on a loop. You blink at him and finally manage to respond,

“I’m sorry, you- you’re courting me? Din, maybe you could have told me you were courting me?” Your voice comes out sounding high-pitched and quite incredulous. 

Din makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like “oops.”

You keep going, your shock making you babble,

“Don’t get me wrong, Din, I’m thrilled that you think of me as your sweetheart and it makes me swoon that all this time you’ve thought of me like that, I’ve always liked you so much and hoped we could be more someday, but I never realized, I just didn’t know.” 

Din steps close to you, his hand reaches out to cup your cheek. The gesture calms you down and you stare into the dark T of his visor, hoping you’re looking into his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I thought it was obvious, that’s why I was always bringing you the rocks and making sure to come see you,” he sounds a bit sheepish, “I’m not the best at romance and I guess I should have made it a lot clearer.”

You let out a soft sigh, “It would have been nice to know my feelings weren’t one-sided all this time.” You tilt your head and look at him with a slightly exasperated smile. 

“But you do have feelings for me,” Din points out, sounding a touch smug.

“I do, you handsome, infuriating man,” you reply with a laugh.

“And I have feelings for you, romantic, affectionate feelings,” he clarifies unnecessarily at this point. He pulls you closer, dipping his head so that the crown of his helmet touches your forehead.

“What am I going to do with you, Din Djarin?” you ask, marveling at this turn of events.

“I think you should kiss me, so that way you really know how I feel,” Din suggests.

As you watch him with wide eyes, Din tips his helmet up just enough to reveal his full lips and his rather scruffy jaw. You gravitate towards him automatically and your lips meet his in a sweet and tender kiss. He holds you close and gently explores your mouth with his, kissing you as if he’s been dreaming of it for ages. Something he confirms when you eventually pull away.

“If only you knew how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Din says. 

“Probably as long as I have,” you tell him, beaming at him and leaning in for one more precious kiss. 

You hug the little guy close and kiss his cheeks. Grogu responds with a happy giggle as he cuddles up to you. He turns to Din, holding out his hand and babbling happily. 

A tug at yours and Din’s legs have you cutting the kiss short as someone is tired of being ignored. Din scoops little Grogu up in his big hand. The baby immediately lunges for you, his little arms thrown open and a wide smile on his face.

“I guess someone else wants kisses too?” you ask with a giggle. 

“Alright, buddy, I’ll ask her,” Din says, patting Grogu’s head. He looks at you, “Well, what do you say? Will you be our sweetheart and come spend as much time as possible here in your rock garden with us?” 

“I’d love nothing more,” you tell him. You look at the garden again, “Who would have thought a rock would lead to all this?”

“I always knew it would,” Din replies. 

Thank you so much for reading!!!

Tag list: @boomtowngirl @kavecika @becks-things @mysticalgalaxysalad @catsnkooks @starlightrows @tailorvizsla @bitchin-beskar @lilhawkeye3 @acourtofsnakes @grogusmum @buzzybeebee @deannie13 @ladykatakuri @noodlesfics @the-good-shittt @everythingyouwanted @jewfro24 @vaderthepotater @pinkiemme @laichka @myeternalsin @kazthedestroyer @writeforfandoms @trekkingaroundasgard @beskarmermaid @flightlessangelwings @mandoloriancookie @theofficialbugs @heyitsaloy

[cybertron-after-dark]

You should write beast wars, can I have some silly predacon headcanons?

I should absolutely write beast wars. Silly Predacon headcanons coming up

-Megatron talks battle strategy with his rubber duck all the time. He considers it his most trusted advisor because it's never said anything stupid and never tried to kill him. Honestly, he's tempted to think of the little dude as his only real friend.

-Speaking of Megatron, the man is a WHORE for a good bath bomb. Lush addiction, 100%. He has a whole hidden stock of bath bombs, bath salts, scented oils, candles, decorative soaps, scented metal polish and flower petals specifically for spoiling himself when he feels like hes completely surrounded by idiots. Which is often. Has he ever tried to eat one of the decorative soaps that look like baked goods? It doesn't count if it's the t rex hand.

-the reason skorponok occasionally reverts into caveman speak for some episodes is the writers couldn't figure out what to do with him he knows talking like that pisses off tarantulas and he thinks his annoyance is funny even though literally nobody else is amused by the bit.

-skorponok actually kind of misses dinobot because he made his job a lot easier. Constantly pitching ideas, suggesting battle strategies, pointing out flaws in plans. He was useful, even if he seemed to hate skorponok. He doesn't really know how to be a good second in command anymore because a crucial part of the dynamic is missing and he just can't adapt.

-waspinator is perfectly capable of speaking in normal grammar and not in the third person but he's been doing it since he joined in with Megatron and at this point he thinks he's in too deep to knock it off. He thinks it makes him sound cuter because it's actually an evolution of internet uwu speak. Memes get weirdly translated from earth to Cybertron and back.

-waspinator is actually really good at baking but he'll get blasted to bits a thousand times over before he lets anyone other than terrorsaur know because none of his other coworkers deserve to try his cupcakes (and also because he doesn't want to get "promoted" to kitchen slave). Dinobot knew, but he didn't snitch. Wasp never found out that Dinobot would occasionally snag a brownie, he always thought he just counted wrong.

-Terrorsaur is not above attempting to seduce a maximal but all his flirting attempts go horribly awry. If they don't outright reject him they just have no idea what he's getting at bc Predacon flirting is usually a lot different than maximal flirting so everyone thinks he's just kind of being a dick like usual. Dinobot knows exactly what is happening and ranges anywhere from amused to disgusted by the cross-faction fling attempts. The flying weasel clearly has no principles.

-Every couple weeks or so wasp and terrorsaur will get together to watch terrible movies over a bottle of highgrade and it always devolves into bitching about megatron. They tried inviting tarantulas a few times but he'd always make things Weird by bringing in slashers with really good special effects and proceeding to gush about how tasty the gore looks.

-Tarantulas knows what just about every living species in the known galaxy tastes like, organic, mechanical and everything in between. If it's made contact with Cybertron, chances are he's he's tried their flesh (or lack thereof). If it's at all possible, he wants to find out enough about the Vok to figure out how to capture, kill and eat one.

-Tarantulas also thinks rampage is a total poser when it comes to cannibalism. He doesn't even look like he's having fun with it. Barely any torturing or teasing beforehand, only dramatic monologues about fear and anguish. Bah! Amateur...

-Blackarachnia has a trash tv addiction. She doesn't know WHY the Darksyde's datatrax has every season of Keeping Up with the Kardashians and like 30 TLC produced shows, but she refuses to stop watching them. Tarantulas fucking hates it. She does not care and if he complains she will turn the volume higher.

-Blackarachnia has incredibly mixed feelings on the story Cinderella. On the one hand, it gives her a degree of hope. A girl reduced to a work slave for terrible people that gets to escape and live it up with a guy that lives her? Great conceptually, but she only got to get out of it because she was a good person and nice to everyone. Blackarachnia? Not quite so disgustingly sweet. She's a bad girl through and through. And evidently bad people don't get to escape bad situations. Oh well. She can always try to fake it til she makes it.

-Inferno has always secretly hoped that when the war is over, his Queen Megatron will settle down with him and repopulate the colony together. He has wildly saccharine domestic daydreams of being with his giant beloved lizardy queen and their 3000+ kids. He has accidentally let this slip around Megatron once, who proceeded to pointedly ignore what he just said.

-Terrorsaur and Blackarachnia got Inferno to watch Drag Race but upon hearing the contestants being called queen, he took it a bit too literally and interpreted the show as the sad, underwhelming way human queens settle disputes between their colonies instead of just fighting the proper way. Lame.

-Quickstrike is so so very sad he can't play video games. He wants to play GTA and cause excessive and wanton death and destruction, but his fucked up hands cannot hold the controller. He forsakes Primus for building him the way he did. He keeps trying to get tarantulas to make him a usable controller but he gets brushed off every time.

-Quickstrike has attempted to ride inferno in his beast mode into battle. It did not end well but for about a solid 18 seconds it looked metal as hell.

-Rampage actually really likes depth charge and wants to be friends sooooo bad but he doesn't know how to handle that in a healthy way so he keeps trying to get his attention by playing up the cannibalism thing and hoping they fight again. Honestly he just kind of likes depth charge holding him, even if it's in a chokehold.

-After losing transmutate, Rampage projected a lot of his grief onto waspinator, which lead to a very strange period of time on the ship where rampage would get very cuddly and protective of wasp, who was incredibly terrified of what would happen if he shoved the crab off. Usually accompanied by Rampage being Incredibly Sad.

-every month the preds have a game night. Usually a board game or card game with Megatron's house rules. Said house rules are specifically designed to make a fight break out for his amusement. These game nights typically end with at least three people in the r-chamber and somebody missing at least one limb.

[pomplalamoose]

Do u have any thoughts abt how make out sessions would go with luke? I know that he’s busy defeating the galactic empire and all but when they have hours of time when traveling in space things lead verkram places…

-💫

I totally do because I think about this a normal amount of time👀👀

• one of Luke's love languages is definitely physical touch 

• he likes to make sure you are standing/sitting/laying/walking right beside him at any given time 

• so if he has a chance to get you alone, you can be sure he will make good use of that time

• and what better chance is there while you're traveling through space together 

• if you are not already with him as soon as there is no need to constantly check the controls anymore, he will come looking for you

• if you're not in the mood for a make out session, he's the last one to make you feel bad about it 

• but when he finds you already waiting for him with an expectant look on your face, that man gets excited 

• often you try and manoeuver the both of you in a more comfortable position or to your room before he basically jumps you

• you are rarely successful

• to him it doesn't really matter where you are

• most often you'll find yourself sandwiched between him and a wall or with your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on your ass

• for a Jedi, Luke has surprisingly little self restraint or patience when it comes to you 

• (unless he's teasing you; it drives you insane)

• so you can imagine how hard it is to eventually come to an end once he has started getting his fingers all over you 

• he could go on forever and probably would if there weren't galaxies to safe and evil Emperors to defeat 

• depending on how long he went without being able to kiss you (he's really dramatic about that sometimes), you won't be able to properly breathe for a few minutes with how wildly he is practically devouring you 

• you can't even pull away because of how tightly he is pressing you to his strong body 

• (he makes sure you're not fainting by checking in on you with the Force of course, he'd hate to make you uncomfortable)

• if you are of rather petite build your feet will be dangling in the air 

• if you're taller than him he'll climb you like a tree

• eventually, when both of you need to come up for air, he'll cover your face and neck, everything he's able to reach quickly, with kisses

• they range from chaste little pecks to wet licks 

• sometimes he gets so lost in the moment he bites you

• when you yelp he'll laugh and either do it again or kiss you to make it better; you can never stay upset with him 

• due to his enthusiasm I imagine his kisses to be very sloppy and open mouthed at the beginning 

• once he manages to get himself under control and concentrates on getting you all hot and bothered, you'll feel your knees weaken 

• you don't know how he does it, when he really puts his mind to it, he's a very good kisser

• he will loosen his iron grip and let his broad hands roam over your body, knowing exactly where you like to be touched 

• they'll quickly make a bee line towards your tits though 

• it doesn't matter what size they are (I'm mostly saying that to console myself tbh); to Luke all tits are good tits and yours he likes in particular

• Luke isn't shy to be loud

• even when you are just making out he can't swallow his moans

• you are never sure whether he really enjoys himself this immensely or if he simply likes the way his sounds make you blush 

• he is a tease after all and while he hasn't gotten you to admit it yet, he knows it turns you on 

• so much 

• "you like that, huh?"

• afterwards he likes to admire your swollen lips and how messy you always end up looking 

• he'll trail after you when you leave to fix your hair and clothes 

• to him it's very relaxing, nearly hypnotizing, to watch the way you brush out your hair and re apply parfume while he's resting on your bed

• however don't make the mistake of turning to him for a last kiss

• he'll seize the opportunity to destroy your efforts all over again

[toska-writes]

Jedi Maul has been on the brainnnnn!

“Jedi Knight Maul AU”

Summary: With the idea of Jedi Maul of course knowing me I had to twist it into a Platonic piece! Enjoy these headcannons of Jedi Maul

Pairing: Jedi!Maul AU x GN padawan!Reader (ofc it’s platonic!)

Warning: ummm none really I can think of!

Word Count: 913 (I didn’t proof read lol)

Notes: since I couldn’t find any fics like this I filled in! I swear I’ll get back to doing requests but with school now fully back I do have a little more to do in my free time, whether I like it or not

-if anyone ever messed with or talked bad about his commander or men they definitely have another thing coming

-He gives me very protective dad/older brother vibes but only to his little tight knit circle

-And that would include you soon enough

- I definitely think if this certain AU wasn't set in the clone wars Maul would look for a strong willed padawan to pass his teachings too

-HOWEVER do you know how many bad things you would learn from him??? Mostly likely any swear word from any dialect in the entire galaxy. He would give Wolffe a run for his money for the way he would roll his eyes- and don't get me started on how he would totally blow senators off " in the most polite way"

-except of course the nice senators that want the best for everyone including the clones *cough cough Senator Chunchi my beloved*

-and I just keep thinking of this scene where maybe the both of you are talking to the council or maybe some Sith, and Maul would totally make a quip to you or something to ease the tension

-He would want the absolute best and peace of mind when he can't be right with you on the battlefield, because at the beginning he definitely wanted to be

-Maul definitely isn't the type to verbally encourage you, I think he'd be more of an act of services. Whether that be with a blanket and a shoulder to lean on after a hard battle, or helping you clean and wrap a wound if you don't necessarily want to go to the med bay

-Teaching you have to fly is like doing math homework with a parent at the kitchen counter. However after a few more lessons it is definitely a hobby you like doing together even if there is a little banter

-I can imagine on a far away planet while away for a campaign he may or may not sign you up for a pod race just for some extra credits. Would he cheat?... well it's worth it when he sees you fly around the corner with the rest of the troops cheering like mad men

-Meditating is... something else. He knows how hard it is to just sit. And relax, especially in a time of war. But it seems more bearable with someone else for the both of you

-Maul would take lightsaber and dueling technique training very seriously, it's an art form in his eyes and something that he believes he can excel at so of course it's one of the first things the two of you bond over

-He would want to make sure you are prepared for anything, hand to hand, blasters, lightsaber you name it

-Now let’s say something does go wrong and maybe just maybe you get hurt

-One word would be furious, what ever man or creature did that better say their good byes quickly.

-He’s not one to lose his padawan, or hurt by seppies in that matter

-now let’s be honest he’s pretty intimidating and holds a high standard for everything but when the broken little voice of his padawan says they’re scared- his heart is broken into a million pieces.

-that would probably be the only time where he properly brought his voice down to provide some comfort.

-Also can we talk about how dramatic he would be, maybe your sparing and you jab him in the chest.

-he would definitely grab his chest and look at you stunned saying his own padawan is growing before falling to the ground

-two more words: war crimes. I don’t have to explain and I won’t

-there would be so many different competitions among the ranks, kinda like how Anakin and Ahsoka see who can kill the most droids. Something to make the war seem bearable

-Now if anyone ever found out about these last few parts he’d wither away to nothing

-I would say Maul has something against the cold, he doesn’t like snow or being freezing. And so when it comes time for a cold related planet everyone has to know

-the clones would definitely be making different jokes and such but of course behind closed doors, no one wants a cold upset Maul

-however when it comes time for night Mauls CC definitely let’s him bunk with him

-that’s when the clone cuddle piles with the two Jedi really get started

-there’s just something about being absolutely surround by people you know you can properly trust and they trust you to protect them.

-and I’m more than certain the both of you have probably stolen blankets from the clones barracks

-On sleepless nights you both could probably be found talking about the most random shit that had nothing to do with the raging responsibility. Or even in tougher ones with nightmares Maul would most likely put an arm around you and have you fall asleep there

-My boys trying ok. Being a single father to his padawan with a bunch of crazy uncles

-He tries, maybe one day it’s both of you painting your own fighter or tricking it out, maybe it’s another where it’s all intense training and he carries you back to the temple room

-All in all I think Maul would be a fun interesting master to have!

If you want to see this take the form of an actual fic let me know!!!

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook

[vorchagirl]

What's this? A wild Lena!? Yep - I'm trying to be more active! I've been writing again and have finished my newest fic - a Sara Ryder x Reyes Vidal fic called 'Haunted'.

Enjoy this little snippet while i finish editing it!

Sara pondered the idea, swirling the liquid in her glass as she thought how clever he'd been to mention the innocent people who would get hurt. Reyes couldn't help himself, he was a born manipulator.

"What's in it for me, Reyes? Things hardly turned out well the last time we worked together. "

He grinned suddenly and leaned back, a twinkle in his eye. "That's a matter of opinion. I may not have ended up with everything I wanted," and his gaze swept over her meaningfully, "but it was hardly a bad outcome for the people of Kadara. As for what's in it for you, well, aside from saving Kadara," Reyes grin widened the tiniest bit more, "Maybe the satisfaction of knowing you've got the most charming man in the galaxy on your side?"

Sara snorted softly, shaking her head at him. "Try again."

He sighed dramatically and put a hand over his heart as though injured. "Can't blame a man for trying. Fine, picture this – you and me, securing Kadara from those who mean it harm, and, " he nodded towards the port, "free fuel and restock for your ship whenever you need it. Upgrades and materials if needed too." There was a pause and then he added,  "Within reason." 

Reyes did not like parting with credits or giving anything away for free, which meant he was desperate.

[veveisveryuncool]

next up in the redeemed villain squad, the bitch ass egg that i used to scream "die" at when i was 8 (i never forgave him for his sins)

headcanon time yee haw

around 20 years old, the youngest in the kumazaki trio (excluding marx), a fact that he both hates and takes advantage of

cannot drive a damn thing. too busy gaming to get a license. this is why the lor has crashed 263827848383 times. do not trust him at the head of the star allies sparkler.

bandana dee HATES him and does not trust him one bit. magolor makes a point to be extra annoying to him.

VERY interested in the Ancients to the point where he dresses like them and tried to base his whole personality off the "ooo magik smart spooky so wise" vibe. he is an overzealous fanboy who cosplays everywhere he goes.

like tell me you don't see the similarities between magolor and hyness's robes. magolor probably found out he was 0.002% Ancient and ran with it (his ears look very similar to hyness's just saying)

game magolor is aroace but won't stop flirting with every living being (manga magolor is a different story)

has offered all his friends part time jobs at his themepark, they are now an unstoppable staff team

idk man something about how taranza is an expert in magic and susie is an expert in technology and how magolor is a perfect blend of both, constantly fluctuating between dramatic and poetic speech patterns and modern lingo. how the themes of their games revolve around the loss of love, family, and friendship for taranza, susie and magolor respectively.

susie and magolor get into petty fights at least once a week. they are either planning to kill each other or gossipping and counting money at any given point.

loooves to make fun of taranza. that's not nice, dude. stop.

lowkey kinda jealous of taranza for being better at magic than him. taranza offers to teach him but he always declines.

this guy is marx's biggest supporter #1 bestie bro before hoe partner in crime, all that jazz

they pull off silly shenanigans together and are banned from most public spaces.

magolor has taught marx everything he knows. their tomfoolery is unmatched.

has a hard time expressing his true feelings, often puts on a facade of overdramatizing his emotions to the point where it seems fake

genuinely does like making new friends, he thought that by obtaining the master crown, he could make a universe where people would have no choice but to like him because he would be the greatest ruler in the galaxy and overcome his crippling loneliness

option B was making a themepark, where he would be the harbinger of fun and joy, creating a space where people could meet and make new friends and hopefully see how fun and friendly magolor was, too

he is overjoyed that kirby considers him a friend after everything and would do anything for him

constantly trying to get on meta knight and dedede's good side

magolor's got outfits for every occasion. a real fashionista, that guy

[snackleggg]

Icarus and The Sun

A little Thoschei drabble

~~~

The Master prided himself on his knowledge. He needed it any way he could get his hands on. Practical skill, theoretical. In every field, in every galaxy, he needed to hoard it like he could bury the drums beneath it all.

So, of course, after spending so much time on the primitive planet of Earth, he had learned much. One of the few things he actually enjoyed out of all the knowledge Earth had to offer was mythology. Humans, for as dim-witted and pudding brained as they were, were surprisingly good story tellers. It also helped that most mythologies on Earth were entertainingly bleak, like the one about the planet itself being a primordial evil entity that wanted to eat everything. Very entertaining.

One of the mythologies that he appreciated the most was probably the Ancient Greeks. Philosophers, theatrical, and the experts of tragedies, the Master found many of their myths the most entertaining of all.

He also found his mind drifting to their metaphors, their meanings. After all, he was a bit of a poet himself. He loved dramatic irony and theatrics, at least.

One story that intrigued him greatly was the story of Icarus. A story about hubris, as the Greeks were so found of. But stories rarely ever have just one interpretation, and his mind drifted to the other ways someone could see it.

A man, a simple mortal with wax wings, flying up and up despite the warning of those around him, until he was so close to the sun, Apollo, a brilliant and radiant God, that his wings melted and he fell to his demise in the sea.

When trying to picture the God of the Sun in these stories, all he could see was blond curly hair and bright golden eyes, a smiling young man among red grass. He shut the thought away, the face too familiar despite the fact that they hadn't worn it in centuries.

But it was true, wasn't it?

He wasn't a moon or a satellite or whatever other metaphors were used in relation to the sun.

No.

He was Icarus.

And his wax wings had melted long ago. Leaving him to drown in the sea of his own insanity, always too far away from his sun for them to help him.

He didn't care if he was burnt to crisp. If their brilliance and danger ate him up and left him as nothing, he just wanted their warm arms around him, their eyes that always seemed to have a gold tint to them in every body to gaze upon him and him alone. He didn't care if the full force of their affection and focus left him scorched and ash. He already burned brightly with his own anger. What was that in comparison to burning with love?

...

He REALLY needed to distract himself with another diabolical scheme. He was starting to think in poetically tragic metaphors, and the one time he'd let himself go too far down that route, he'd ended up eating ice cream while re-watching Pride and Prejudice for the 300th time.

Ugh, feelings.

[ontherocks21]

It didn’t matter the reason – be it for school retreat, a safe house to escape assassins, or just to indulge a family vacation – Varykino was always a sight for sore eyes and a respite for tired souls.  Since their arrival in the late afternoon, they had only been on Naboo and the family property for a smattering of hours, but already Padmé felt the weighted stresses of her Coruscant life and the galaxy’s war sliding off her slim shoulders.

This time of year when life flourished under the vernal sun the waters surrounding Varykino were warm, so it wasn’t surprising when her bare skin acclimated quickly, her feet dangling off the dock into the lake.  Lazily, she kicked them back and forth, relishing the somnolent drag of the water between her toes juxtaposed with its carefree buoyancy around her limbs.

“Gah!” 

The strangled groan at her side suggested that her companion did not share her fondness for this particular evening excursion. Though she failed to her amused smile, Padmé did manage to stifle her giggle as Anakin sank his long legs over the dock’s edge into the water - albeit very, very slowly.  He sensed the lightness in her mood, catching her eye, his wince momentarily melting away to mirror her cheeky grin.

“You actually enjoy this?” he asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Give it a minute,” she answered, the laugh she had been suppressing finally escaping her efforts to contain it. “You’ll get used to it.”

Then again, she thought, would there ever be a temperature of water warm enough for the man hailing from perhaps one of the driest and hottest biomes in the galaxy?  Judging by the scrunched look on Anakin’s face as he mimicked the languid movement of her lower legs with his own, Padmé doubted it. 

Playfully, she kicked sideways at him. The errant motion disturbed the swirling vortices they were creating on the moonlit surface enough to splash up on Anakin.  As lake water peppered his exposed calves just how she intended, he yelped, then made a show of leaning away from any further pre-meditated liquid attacks.

Padmé smiled back sweetly at him, her tongue peeking out between her teeth, no remorse in the slightest evident for her watery torment.  Anakin narrowed his eyes at her assumed innocent expression, eventually relaxing his defensive posture when the moment lapsed from rousing flirtation to comfortable silence.

Faint calls of a pelikki mother to her boisterous young danced along to the gentle tune of the evening breeze.  Soft sloshes of water against the anchored posts of the dock provided a rhythmic harmony to the melodic chorus of awakening crickets.  Adding to an already enchanted evening, the night music of Naboo’s Lake Country serenaded them as they sat, until a louder and much closer maternal call of warning interrupted the natural concerto.

Anakin flinched, twisting towards the lake house when a child’s shriek punctured the peaceful night air.  “I wonder who that was,” he grimaced

Padmé listened to the unintelligible but firm matronly command that put an immediate stop to any more high-pitched youthful protests.  Her nieces had been so ecstatic when they had finally arrived to Varykino that Sola had had her hands full corralling their exuberant energy ever since.  Ryoo and Pooja had almost physically knocked Anakin off his feet with how hard they had crashed into him with excited hugs upon their arrival.

“They can be a bit overwhelming when they get wound up,” Padmé said gently.  The fondness in her voice softened the edges of her statement considerably.

“Ryoo and Pooja?” Anakin asked, shaking his head, his full lips parting in a genuine smile.  “No, they’re great.”  His eyes gleamed suddenly in the cover of the night.  “Your sister though…”  He let out a low whistle and heaved an overly dramatic breath.

Pulling a wry face, Padmé bumped her shoulder into him at his good-natured teasing.  His acknowledging laugh rumbled softly out of him, her heart dancing at the sound of it.  His laughter was one of the most beautiful sounds Padmé had ever heard.  It delighted her to no end whenever she was responsible for eliciting such joyous emotion from him.

“What about me?”

Both dock dwellers turned to see the topical trio walking toward them down the weathered pier.  Well, Sola walked.  Ryoo and Pooja bounced along the wooden boards, their energy reserves clearly not in danger of being tapped despite the deepening evening hour.

“She started it,” Anakin said, shamelessly pointing a finger of blame Padmé’s direction.

His grin only grew wider at her raised eyebrow of warning.

“We aren’t here to interrupt you two for long,” Sola explained, snagging a wayward Pooja who had been leaning a bit too far over the edge for her mother’s comfort.  “I just brought these rebels out to say their good-nights.”

“But Mama,” Pooja whined.  “I want to go for a midnight swim, too!”

“They aren’t swimming – Ryoo, get back here!” Sola barked.  Padmé watched her older niece sulk her way through her return, beckoning encouragingly with her arms when Ryoo caught her aunt’s eye as Sola turned back to deter her youngest.  “Uncle Ani and Aunt Mé-Mé just came out here to get a little peace and quiet.  They’ve had a long day.”

“Good night, starlight,” Padmé said, kissing the still frowning Ryoo on the cheek.  She reached for Pooja next, the little girl giggling loudly, her dismay at missing out on any presumed water activities already forgotten.  Folding the little girl into her embrace, Padmé glanced up at her sister.  “We’ll be in soon,” she promised.

Sola waved a dismissive hand at her, though she directed her next words at Anakin.

“Don’t let Padmé get too lost in her thoughts out here,” Sola warned warmly.  “She’ll walk these skies all night, if you let her.”

“Good niiiiight, Sola,” Padmé called out pointedly, before the eldest Naberrie present could bestow any more unsolicited “sisterly wisdom”.

Considering Sola’s words, Anakin tilted his head curiously at her, but she merely winked at him with a sly grin, before gathering her brood and bidding them a final good night.

“Their energy always amazes me,” Padmé said, watching her sister shepherd her nieces back toward the glowing lake house.  She turned to study Anakin watching their retreat.  The question burst out of her before she even knew she was even going to ask it.  “Do you think our children will be like that?”

“Nah,” Anakin replied blithely, not even balking at the directness of her abruptly forward question.  “Ours will be way worse.” 

“Worse?!” Padmé gasped, somewhat incredulous.

“With you as their mother…?”  Anakin trailed off deliberately, a smirk gracing his handsome face.  “You can’t even sit still for five minutes before joining yet another committee in the Senate or proposing a new bill or…”

“Okay, okay,” Padmé laughed, smiling sideways at him. “Point taken.”

Anakin let go of the grip he had on the edge of the dock to pump his hand once in silent victory. 

“Though I’ll have you know,” Padmé teased, not yet willing to let him bask too much in his early triumph.  “I’ve now been sitting here for a solid fifteen minutes.”  She made a show of glancing all around their immediate surroundings.  “And I don’t see any datapads, do you?”

Cupping his hands about his mouth, Anakin called loudly out across the lake, “Someone alert the HoloNet!” then, raising his arms as if to highlight a headline written in the stars.  “Esteemed Naboo Senator Slacks On The Job... Ow-hey!”

Feigning injury, Anakin clutched his side where Padmé was primly removing her roughly driven elbow from.

“Oh, and you’re one to talk.”

“I sit still for long periods of time every day!”

“The inside of a cockpit doesn’t count, Ani,” she retorted dryly, rolling her eyes for effect.

“Alright, you win this round,” he agreed.

Padmé watched Anakin absently toss some grit into the dark lake.  The disturbed surface tremored with bright silver ripples around their submerged feet, reflecting Ohma-D’un’s, Onoam’s and Veruna’s light.  Even though Naboo boasted three moons, their varying sizes and vast distances still only allowed them to cast a soft glow over their ruling planet’s night.  

“What did Sola mean?” 

Pulling her gaze away from the serene waters, Padmé glanced back at him quizzically. 

“’Walking the skies?’” Anakin explained.

“Oh that,” Padmé said, somewhat dismissively. “It’s just a bad joke.”

Patiently, Anakin waited for her to elaborate.  She sighed and lifted her chin towards the myriad of pinpoint lights twinkling down at them.

“During school retreat, or sometimes during my reign, I would come out here, by myself, and star-gaze for hours.  I could just let my thoughts wander.”  She glanced back to him, flushing a little under his attentive gaze.  “Sola says I ‘let my mind walk the skies’ when I go into deep-thinking mode down here.”

“It’s a great way to escape,” Anakin offered.  “I star-gazed all the time on Tatooine.  Never can see any on Coruscant though.” He tore his eyes away from hers, searching the night canvas above their heads.  A wistful look crossed his face, and Padmé held her breath, hoping he would divulge whatever thoughts or memories he saw scribed in the heavens. 

“What are you thinking?” 

She desperately wanted to know.

His pensive expression shifted into something more devilish, sending Padmé’s heart fluttering wildly with anticipation.

“I think…” Anakin trailed off.  Instinctively, Padmé leaned towards him, her encouraging smile faltering when she took in the mischievous twinkle in his cerulean stare and the way the corner of his mouth was trying a little too hard to not turn up in a roguish grin.  Unfortunately, she recognized the look on Anakin’s face a second too late, though her body was already spinning away from him in a vain attempt at escape.

“…little Pooja had a great idea.”

“No, no, no, don’t you dare!” Padmé yelled, as strong arms suddenly wrapped themselves around her waist.  Shrieking with indignation at his laugh, she flailed hard, but he anticipated her movements, using them against her, until she realized her only option was to stop fighting the inevitable plunge and just lean into it.  So quickly, it took Anakin a bit by surprise, she twisted in his arms, pulling her feet from the water and locking her arms around his neck and her knees about his waist in a desperate attempt to anchor herself.  Their faces only inches apart, they froze.  Padmé’s heart hammered away, its rapid pace set by more than the rush of adrenaline and the promise of a spontaneous after-hours swim.  Anakin regarded her carefully, trying to decide just how much trouble he would be in if he made good on his threat.

She squeezed her arms and legs a little tighter.  Ever so slightly, brown eyes narrowed at blues with the most intimate of challenges.  Without warning, Padmé pulled his face closer, capturing his mouth with hers.  Anakin groaned softly as her lips danced in the familiar wicked manner that she knew drove him insane with want.  She released him just as suddenly as she had started the kiss, meeting his electrified stare gamely from beneath her lashes. Anakin’s eyes dipped in lazy appraisal, pulling a shiver from her that had nothing to do with the gentle night breeze at her back.

“Ah, that’s not gonna work this time, milady.”

Padmé watched Anakin continue to calculate his odds for one more moment before his handsome face broke out into a wolfish grin.  Her elbows raised once briefly as he shrugged, seemingly indifferent to whatever solution his calculus had solved, and then suddenly he scooted closer, readjusting his grip solidly about her hips.

“No, Ani!” she half-screamed, half-laughed.  Strangling on a protesting shriek, Padmé buried her face in his neck and drew one last breath before she felt him topple both of them off the wooden platform and into the watery oblivion.

Padmé should had known her efforts were hopeless. 

Once Anakin Skywalker made up his mind, there was very little anyone could do to change it. 

*****

Early on in her tenure as Galactic Senator, Padmé had learned that there was a hidden benefit to falling asleep in the living room.  The panoramic windows allowed the first tendrils of dawn’s light to seep into the apartment to greet any beings slumbering on the couches long before those same rays burned with enough power to pervade the adjacent sleeping quarters.  It was a remarkably gentle way to ease into morning after working tedious hours late into the prior evening.

As Coruscant’s sun sings her its soothing wake-up call, Padmé tucks her chin closer to her chest, burying her face further beneath the blanket.  In the dark coziness provided by her covering’s cave, it isn’t hard for her subconscious to hold onto the feeling of Anakin’s arms still wrapped about her.  It’s all too easy to imagine the firm cushions at her back are his solid frame as she turns into them, retreating away from daybreak’s sobering reality for just a little longer.

Despite the ferocity with which she clings to it, the dream recedes without her permission.

Reluctantly, Padmé surfaces from sleep and its incredible fantasy.

Blinking awake slowly, she squints at the golden glow of the day’s infantile hours, the soft light harsh compared to her dream’s enchanted night.  The air around her doesn’t stir with the tender caress of the Lake Country’s spring winds.  The stillness of the apartment atmosphere is calm and quiet, eerily so after her mind had conjured the pleasant murmurings and stirrings of familiar shore sounds.

Sitting up, Padmé swipes her palms across her face several times, gradually taking in the room – its blue walls, the blanket’s weight pooling into her lap, the lack of a devilish smile that flips her heart every which way – and convinces herself that Varykino had been a dream.

Her heart beats several times rejecting her conclusion.

It had all felt so real.

But it wasn’t.

Sometimes, when you believe something to be real, it becomes real.

TBC

[vldkeith]

character bios for my fanfic! 🎥🪩

y'all know how i'm writing a lengthier au fanfic right now right? well i have character bios/intros for it! these basically lay out who everyone is in this au. i just think it's neat and hopefully gets ppl excited 👀

--

takashi shirogane - extremely talented actor with a lot of social capital, despite the fact that he is an out gay man. played the adorable, lovable leading man in rom-coms and sitcoms for a while and has recently graduated to more dramatic roles, which he excels in. everyone seems to love and respect him for the most part. picked up keith when he tried to steal his car at a younger age (10?) and hasn’t stopped looking out for him since; they’re like brothers. 

keith kogane - guy who hates celebrity culture but got foisted into it due to his association with shiro. has a reputation for being handsome goodboy shiro’s naughtier younger brother who flips off the camera, punches paparazzi, and has no filter. hates every moment he’s forced to endure hollywood life, but does so to protect and be there for shiro. has been smeared by the tabloids extensively, both for being a delinquent and for being gay. keith did not choose to come out, like shiro had before him, but instead was outed by a member of a gay forum he frequented who figured out his identity (he was 17 at this point). hates society and has a chip on his shoulder.

lance mcclain - starry-eyed hopeful fresh off of his first non-extra role and new darling of the press. gunning for lead man roles in romcoms; knows he’s bisexual but doesn’t want to come out for fear of his family’s reaction and because he believes it will smear his reputation and thus chances to get the roles he wants. this view is understandable and pretty accurate, but it means that he is actively hiding himself and presents intense complications when he and keith start being “a thing.” has a reputation for being charming (if a little sleazy) and flirty with women, which is both natural to him and carefully cultivated so he has the best chance at getting romcom roles. he idolizes shiro–in part because he’s an out gay man, though he’d never admit that–and wants to be mentored by him so badly he’ll make himself a nuisance in shiro (and keith’s) life until he can. 

(more under the cut)

allura altea - orphaned daughter of famous actress mother and professor father who died in a hit-and-run when she was 16. keith’s best friend; they’ve affectionately dubbed themselves the “dead parent’s society,” but the press likes to call them “?????.” allura was being brought up as a future actress by her parents, having starred in many dcom-esque roles as a child, but when they died she quit all of that and kind of just does her own thing now. currently, she’s enrolled in UCLA as a politics major. 

coran wimbleton-smyth - retired acclaimed director who occasionally signs himself on as a producer for works he thinks are particularly meaningful. he’s the producer for shiro’s next film, a sci-fi space opera a la the hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy, and he’s gunning for shiro’s character to be explicitly gay. genuinely good-natured and wants to be involved with his projects; has a reputation for being the kind of director/producer to bring donuts in for everyone and cancel shooting days if the weather gets too hot. would support the current (2023) strikes. wants to see everyone succeed, but especially shiro and his family. 

hunk garrett - lance’s bestie and bisexual-awakening! aspiring personal chef to celebrities, but currently works at a restaurant and attends california institute of technology for engineering, because why not? met lance when lance went to eat at the restaurant he worked at and liked the food so much he asked to personally thank the chef; hunk had changed the dish last-minute as it went out the door, ratatouille-style, and so he gets the credit. they’ve been besties ever since! 

matt holt - lance’s young agent! saw potential in lance because of their shared personality-type, but he can be ruthless when it comes to matters of public opinion and which roles lance should take, which lance both appreciates and dreads. committed to doing what’s best for lance’s career, whatever the cost.  katie “pidge” holt - matt’s younger sibling that is pushed into lance’s orbit unwillingly due to her big brother’s job. hangs around because, whatever he may say, she really does like lance as a friend, and warms up to hunk quickly once they meet due to their shared interest in engineering/computers. has a geocities website dedicated to weird lizards and insects. low-profile enough to get away with things none of the others could manage.

nyma - shiro's ruthless but skilled publicist. knows how to turn public opinion around her finger, all while pretending to be innocent and nice the whole time. this doesn't mean she's uncaring, though; sometimes she'll let slip that she actually cares about shiro and keith's images because she cares about them, not just because it's her job and reputation on the line if she doesn't. isn't afraid to advise them to do painful and sometimes downright demoralizing things, but it's always in the interest of saving their necks, at least from her perspective.

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this isn't an exhaustive list of the voltron characters that will be included btw; i'm going to find a way to put adam & romelle in if i have to die for it. but these are the main cast i have so far :) let me know what you think!