#its nice don’t get me wrong like I really enjoy it but it doesn’t carry a movie for me yk

[vonkarma2]

i dont necessarily dislike the opinion that movies should be more about imagery texture and emotion than dialogue bc the visuals and sound are what make them unique as a medium + visual storytelling takes advantage of film’s particular characteristics like I can see where they’re coming from. but personally I like movies that are basically just dialogue I want to hear people screaming and yelling at each other + funny jokes also. but idk I really love visuals so I think its mostly bc of my personal failure to get immersed in a movie like feel like I’m inside it yk. and low attention span 😔🙏 sorry denis

[mydadleft471]

A Brief Respite

Summary: Something is bothering Messmer. Even if you can't fix what's wrong, you can show him how much you care for him.

Spoilers for both Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. No warnings, just tooth-rotting fluff for my favorite boi.

MESSMER LOVERS, I AM BACK!!!

Sorry for the radio silence! I was on vacation (which was so nice btw) and I got back and hammered this baby out! I missed writing for Messmer sm. Anywho, thank you to the genius @manitscold for the idea for this fic! If there's any other ideas for fics, please let me know!

Please enjoy and realize that ye olde English is a pain in the ass.

You awake early in the morning to sunlight streaming in through your window.

You rub your eyes and clumsily push the plush red comforter embroidered with Messmer’s insignia back and ease out of your bed. Per usual, the servants at the Shadow Keep had catered to your every need, and your breakfast was already sitting on the table in your quarters. You truly believe you get better service than Messmer himself.

He had always treated you well even before he began courting you, but now, he showers you with the finest gifts he can find. Beautiful embroidered dresses, specifically tailored for you, flawless gemstones, rich wines, and sturdy armor sets were all left for you in your private quarters. You live quite comfortably here.

He has also ensured your protection. His most trusted guards stand watch outside your quarters, day and night, and you are allowed to carry your weapon freely around the castle. You don’t really need your weapon much, as Messmer prefers to personally guard you whenever possible. You have never felt more safe. His presence is comforting and warm.

Lately, though, you haven’t seen him as much. Perhaps a battle went horribly wrong, or he’s sick. You don’t know, but whenever he is around, he seems like something is troubling him. He doesn’t speak as often and he remains closed-off, even from you.

You were, hopefully, going to remedy that today. You requested various flowers, bath salts, and oils from Castle Ensis, and they had finally arrived. You were going to make him relax, no matter what. 

Dressed in a fine dress made of red velvet with glimmering gold accents and with a satchel filled to the brim with salts, petals, and soaps, you begin to make your way to Messmer’s chamber. Servants bow their heads in reverence to you as you pass, and you greet two Fire Knights as you approach Messmer’s door. Not unusual, but today they’re standing directly in front of the door rather than off to the sides.

“Good morning. I wish to see Lord Messmer.” 

The right guard bows his head and replies solemnly. “My Lady, Sir Messmer has requested to not be bothered.”

“Even if it’s me?” You quirk your brow upwards and place a hand on your hip.

“Well… I suppose he wouldn’t bar you from entering. Apologies, My Lady.” You hear a wavering fear in his voice. Perhaps he realizes that keeping his Lord from you would be a terrible idea.

Stepping aside, they push open the solid metal doors and bow their heads as you pass. Being the Lady of the castle certainly had its perks.

The heavy doors shut with a heavy thump behind you and you proceed into the darkened room. There are a few candles lit around the chamber. You hear thundering footsteps from behind the throne at the front of the room. You wonder if you should’ve left him alone.

“I requested to be left well alone. Secluded from all.” His low, authoritative voice echoes across the stone walls. You see one of his snakes poke its head out from the darkness and you straighten your posture.

Messmer comes out from behind the large throne and hurries towards you, steps light yet graceful, befitting a demigod. He grabs your hand and inspects you for injuries.

“My darling, whatever is the matter? Has something happened?” His features soften and butterflies erupt in your stomach from his gentle touch.

“Nothing has happened. Everything is alright, love.” You reach your hand up towards his cheek to cradle it and he lowers himself to allow you to. You notice that the dark circles underneath his eyes have grown heavier and he looks weary. “Are you alright, Messmer?”

The question takes him aback. He shoots you a weak smile and gently kisses your palm. “Yes, my darling. It has been a rather vexing week, nothing more. Thou must not worry about such matters; I will attend to them.”

You know he is lying. Something has happened, but why would he be worried to open up to you? He has been forthcoming about his mother and his crusade in her name, so what could possibly make him think he can’t talk to you?

“Love, I’m here for you. I know something is bothering you.” He looks away from you, head bowed down. You make him look at you, and he meets your soft gaze with hesitation. “You do not have to bear everything by yourself, you know. Please let me help you.”

He sighs and grabs your hands with his much larger ones. “A sweeter companion I could never hope to have. But some burdens are mine to bear as they are mine own sins.”

“Are you thinking about the war?”

“Yes. The blood I have spilled would paint this castle ruby, inside and out. And yet, it is Mother’s will. Her vengeance has become mine own flesh.” He sounds conflicted, like he knows what is right and wrong, and yet, he can’t bring himself to stray from the path his Mother set him on. He pulls his hands away from yours, scared he will taint your innocence with his touch.

“I’m not scared of you.” His eye gleams bright gold at your words.

“Perhaps not now. But, should we have met before, my visage would haunt thy very nightmares.” His snakes gently coil around him more, as if comforting him. You long to do the same. To take all his pain and make it vanish into thin air.

But you cannot do that.

“I have a surprise for you.” You break the haunting silence and interrupt his spiraling train of thought.

“What is it?” He sounds exhausted.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?” You shoot him a playful smile, and he returns it with a much weaker one. You take his hand and begin to lead him back to his chambers behind his towering throne. Slowly, you make your way to the back of his room where a large marble tub sits vacant. 

“So… there’s really no better way to say this, but I need you to strip and get in the bath for me.” Heat rushes to your cheeks. You dare to look up at him. His gaze shifts between the tub and you rapidly, and his face matches his hair.

“Only if you want to! If this makes you uncomfortable, we can forget this ever happened. I got fancy bath salts and soaps from Castle Ensis to help you relax.” You open your satchel and show him the various bottles and wrapped packages you brought with you.

“Thou hast done this… to offer me a respite?”

“You’ve seemed preoccupied lately. A nice bath always helps me clear my mind and rest.” You give him a bashful smile. His eye is wide and his face is twisted in confusion.

“Thou does not wish for me to disrobe for thy own pleasure?” 

You think you’re going to die before this conversation is over.

“No! I just want you to get in the bath and relax!” You take a second to breathe and quiet your voice. You don’t want him to think that you want him just for sex. “I can wash your hair if you’d like.” 

“I’d like that.” You barely hear his response over your rapid heartbeat.

“Okay.”

You begin to run the water, making sure it’s warm, but not hot. You sprinkle in some lavender and rose petals and throw in some sweet-smelling salts for good measure. Messmer watches you with a curious eye. His snakes do the same. They flick their tongues and turn their heads side-to-side.

Once the tub is filled, the room smells fantastic. You set your satchel to the side and fetch him a soft towel and his favorite red silk robe. You set everything within arms reach.

“Okay, I’ve got everything set up. So I’ll, uh, step out for a few minutes. Just call me back when you’re ready.”

He nods at you and you make your way out of his chambers. Shutting the heavy door behind you, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Hopefully, this will help him relax and take his mind off of fighting a war he wasn’t meant to wage. You know you aren’t able to take away the horrible memories of hundreds of years of war, but you can help him forget, even if for a moment.

“I am ready.” His voice interrupts your thoughts. You take a deep breath and step back inside. Peeking around the corner, you see him sitting perfectly straight in the tub with his back to you, his snakes curiously peering over his shoulder for your return.

You sit on the edge of the bath and gently place a hand on his back, careful of where his snakes have torn through his skin. “How do you feel? Is the water okay?”

“I am… nervous. But the water is quite nice.”

“Why are you nervous, my love?” You rub soothing circles into his back.

“No one has ever seen me like this. Exposed.”

“I can leave if I’m making you uncomfortable.” You begin to stand up, but he grabs your wrist.

“Thy presence is never unwelcome. I am just not used to this. Thy touch. Thy care.” He lets go of your wrist.

“You deserve love and care, Messmer.” 

“Perhaps.”

“You do.” You lean down to wrap your arms around him, but he stops you.

“Thy dress. I do not wish for you to ruin it because of me.”

“Oh hush. Have you seen the amount of dresses in my wardrobe? Now lean your head back.”

He does as you ask and you see the worry in his eye. As gently as you can, you pour water over his head and smooth his hair down. You reach over and grab some shampoo and begin to massage it into his scalp. His eye flutters closed at the sensation of your nails scratching against his scalp and he shudders.

“Are you alright? Do you need me to stop?”

“No. This is wonderful.” You laugh and keep going. Your hands are comically small compared to his head, so it takes you quite some time to make sure all of his hair is covered. Not that you mind, however, when the slightest touch leaves him in such a state of relaxation.

Once again, you pour water over his hair and wash away the sweet shampoo. You ensure no suds get into his eye.

He has allowed you to move him how you please and you’re touched by how much he trusts you. Grabbing some conditioner, you run it through his hair and rub it into his scalp. Once again, he shudders and his breathing slows. He’s enjoying this.

“You’re very pretty, my love.” You see his cheeks redden and he opens his mouth to protest, but you scratch his scalp with both hands and he falls silent immediately. The next time he goes to rebuke something you say, you’ll just do this. You’ll never be wrong again.

Washing the conditioner out of his hair, you also notice that his snakes seem to be enjoying this. They watch you with content looks on their faces, tongues flicking out happily. You rinse your hands off and reach out to pet them. They nuzzle approvingly into your palm.

“They adore you, darling.” He gives you a loving smile.

“More than you do?” 

“An impossible feat.” The snakes hiss out in disagreement and you laugh. 

“Would you like me to let you get out?” You feel the water and frown as it’s beginning to get a little cold.

“Perhaps. I do rather enjoy this.”

“I’ll brush your hair when you’re dressed. How does that sound?”

“Marvelous. Thy surprise continues to enchant me.”

“Good.” You kiss him on the cheek and rise from where you were sitting. You move the towel and his robe closer to him at the edge of the tub, and leave his chambers again. You make a mental note to add the salts, soaps, and flowers to the supply list from Castle Ensis permanently. Perhaps this could be a weekly thing for him. You’d do it as often as it took for him to look so relaxed again.

The large door opens and Messmer greets you with a smile. He looks decades younger. His red hair dangles around his face, droplets of water kissing his skin and rolling down his neck. His red robe hugs his frame nicely. 

He holds out his hand and you take it wordlessly. He shuts the doors with a flick of his wrist and guides you over to his large bed. You notice that his hairbrush is already on the comforter. He sits down on the edge of the bed and you shuffle your way behind him.

“Ready?” You don’t need to ask, but you do.

“Yes. I do not know how this will go. Mine hair is… unruly.”

“Then I’ll just have to brush it everyday.”

“You spoil me, darling.”

“As do you. Now hold still, and tell me if anything hurts.”

You test the waters by running your fingers through his hair, and he wasn’t lying. His hair is rather tangled and will take some work to get straight. You silently curse your lover for not taking better care of himself, and get to work. You start with the ends of his hair and brush out the small knots at the bottom as carefully as you can. Eventually, with some work, the hair obeys and flows down his back as it’s supposed to. 

You take a second to check on Messmer. He’s been silent the whole time and you want to make sure he’s enjoying this. Your worries are short lived, however, when you see his eye closed and his face relaxed. His mouth is slightly open and his breathing is even.

“Is something the matter?” He asks you, still with his eye closed.

“Just making sure you’re alright, love.”

“With thee, I am blissfully content.”

“Please keep that in mind as I work through these tangles.” He laughs and shakes his head at your antics.

“I shall. I will repeat it as a mantra for thine efforts.” 

You give him a small peck on the cheek and return to your work. You begin to move up to the hair beneath his neck and slowly brush at any tangles you find. With some persistence, his hair is soft and silky once again. You notice one of his snakes out of the corner of your eye watching your gentle movements. The other is happily splayed on the comforter.

Slowly, you make your way to his scalp, and within a half hour, you have his fiery hair running in gentle waves down his shoulders. Putting the brush down, you use your fingers to sweep through his hair for any stubborn tangles, but you don’t find any. Satisfied, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and lay your head against his neck.

“I’m tired now.” Your remark makes him chuckle and wrap his hand around one of yours.

“I have no doubt.” He leans his head against yours and sighs. “This was a most pleasant surprise, my darling. I thank thee for this.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do for you.”

He untangles himself from you and gently pulls you down onto the soft bed beside him. You tuck yourself into his side and yawn.

“There are days I find myself believing that I do not deserve thee. This is yet another one of those days.”

You kiss the back of his hand and shake your head. “You deserve all of this and more.”

“Perhaps.” He pulls you closer to him. His skin is smooth and smells like lavender. “Sleep, my beloved.”

“It’s not even time for dinner.”

“You would disobey your Lord?” He taunts you playfully.

“No, I would not.” You snort.

“I shall wake thee for dinner.” 

“You’re going to fall asleep with me.”

He relaxes into the cushions and pillows beneath him and kisses your forehead. “I do not hear thee complaining.”

“I’m not. I want to stay here forever with you.”

You’re beginning to slip into slumber. You let your eyes flutter closed and snuggle into Messmer’s side. He gently pulls a blanket over you and tucks you in as best he can.

“As do I, my beloved.”

“I love you, Messmer.”

Before you completely succumb to sleep, you hear his quiet reply.

“And I thee, my sweet consort.”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

once a friend made me sit on his shoulders and carried me around, i got so shy when i realized there were some people staring at my thighs (they are already big when i sit down they get bigger, it was practically impossible to see my friend's head 🥸 ) could you do some twst boys reacting to this situation?

(I hope that didn't sound weird, I just like to see horny messed up boys)

Don't we all 😏

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Sitting On Their Shoulders | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Ft. Floyd Leech, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, Trey Clover

Floyd Leech

If you’ve read about Floyd on my blog its practically my own cannon that he absolutely loves it

Your weight, your thighs, the warmth of your privates at the back of his head

He loves to squeeze people and no doubt probably likes to get squeezed himself

While he typically sees being squeezed as an activity for fun its also a kind of love-language

Especially with you

So much as touching him skyrockets his mood and has him smothering you in his affection

No doubt is drooling when you squeeze around his head

He gets off to to his weak mate attempting to compete with him 

Even if that's not what your doing

He’s so close to your intimates its like he’s getting a taste before he gets the real thing

He’s not exactly sly enough to trick you so he’ll instead put you in situations where you owe him a favor

“Ne~Shrimpy you owe me! Five minutes and your not allowed to stop squeezing!”

Anyone who gets in the way will be squeezed into oblivion

He will not tolerate anyone interrupting in his (Y/n)-time

Interfering is like directly challenging an eel trying to mate

Showing that they are a rival: 

Someone who’s getting put 40ft deep into the Coral Sea if they don’t stop

“Hehe your just askin’ for me to squeeze ya into an early grave!”

Jack Howl

Blushy and trying to keep calm 

He no doubt offers his tall stature to help you fix something high up in Ramshackle

Because for some reason…some Savanna Claw students are borrowing the only ladder you were provided…

Anyway Jack is there to help

As the good friend he is 

He doesn’t mean to enjoy this so much

But your weight on his shoulders makes him proud

But the rubbing of your…against his head is driving him insane

He wants to tell you he really does

“Mmmm”

“Is there something wrong Jack? Am I too heavy?”

“No! You are perfectI mean I worry that you may be slipping…perhaps squeeze a bit tighter?”

He knows it probably isn’t right that his tail wags so intensely when all he can smell is you

But he just can’t help it!

After all he couldn’t in good conscience let anyone take this task

After all they’d take advantage of you

“If you ever need uhm a ladder again, I’d be there.”

Epel Felmier

A real man can carry anything (so they say)

So of course he’d jump at the opportunity to hold you up

All the better if your squeezing him tight

Go ahead

Go tighter

He can handle 

Don’t think he can? 

he’s squeezing your thighs tighter around his face

“Keep going (Y/n)! D’ya think I’m weak?! Try me!”

Not struggling by your weight he’s overheating out of overexcitement

To be so close to you

To be able to feel you 

He can easily rub his exfoliated cheeks against your plush skin

And he’s living the dream

“Hah~your really–hah~ really warm. It’s fine no worries.” 

Trey Clover

He’s a brother first and foremost

So he’s done this many a time before 

But the very action of feeling you grind upon the back of his head

And the heated warmth of your thighs on his ears

“Oh…whoa…this is…nice.”

He’s transcended into an experience of intimacy he’s never gotten

…from his other ventures

He may not let you down 

Claiming to have gotten carried away, lost in thought as he returns to playfully toss you on his bed

“Let’s do this properly (Y/n). You shouldn’t be teasing anyone but me. And even if you are…I can only stay calm for so long.”

[wsdanon]

I wanted to do a little descriptive writing exercise, so with a lot of googling for references here’s a little scene of felps in australia before they steal the cargo ship \o/

reblogs appreciated \o/!!

Regardless of Australia’s reputation, it’s a cold morning at the harbour. The wind carries seasalt, along with the particular smell of ocean water that’s frequented by ships of all sizes—not entirely unpleasant, but definitely not pleasant either. Easy enough to ignore, as long as you don’t get your face too close to it.

Sitting up on the docks with his legs dangling over the side, Felps thinks he’s avoiding the worst of it. The wood he sits on isn’t exactly wet, but it is damp. Maybe even perpetually so. Or at least just in winter, where the sun lacks its usual power even on a good day.

It’s a good day now. A few clouds litter the sky, but nothing to suggest rain is on its way. On the occasions the wind drops off, the cold can even be beaten back by the rays of sunlight. 

This isn’t where he needs to be. Nearby lies the iconic features of Australia that Felps never really imagined he’d see outside of tv and pictures—the Sydney Opera House, and the Sydney Habour Bridge. Being on the run with fugitives can take you to places beyond even your most distant plans, apparently. He always figured if he went out of country that he’d like to visit Japan.

But this isn’t where he needs to be; not that he’s particularly needed any time soon. He’s a good hour—at the very least—walk away, or about thirty minutes by car depending on the traffic. This is Sydney during peak morning hours. The traffic will be bad. May as well wait a bit.

He watches idly as a ferry carts people from one side of the harbour to the other. It’s an exciting ride for a tourist due to the view it gives of the Opera House and the bridge, but as boring as a bus after the first few times. Three of them don’t legally know how to drive, Cellbit doesn’t know how to drive at all, and they’d all figured keeping a low profile and only stealing what’s necessary would be best. Felps has ridden the ferry often.

The faded yellow and dark green of it makes it maybe not the most exciting vessel in the water, but it is recognisable. It trails further away from the stop closest to Felps and towards a flashy, small theme park. Luna Park, if Felps remembers the name correctly. 

It was a fun, indulgent day. He won Cellbit a koala plushie, and then kept playing until he won one for Pac as well, and he only almost threw up after that green thrill ride he can’t remember the name of.

The ferry docks, and Felps’ phone buzzes in his pocket. A message from Cellbit telling him to start heading to their meeting spot.

It would probably be easier to steal a boat from the harbour here. It’s also much too public for their comfort. Between the tourists and the locals, Sydney Harbour is a bustling, unpredictable place. So, instead, they’re heading to Port Botany.

More planning needed to go into it, but it’s the overall safer option. Some forged documents, a month or so of working there, the acquisition of sums of money and information for bribes, and finally everything is ready to be put into action.

Australia has been nice, but Felps misses Brazil. And it’s probably been long enough that the last scare of the police finding them is over—their trail having gone cold.

He picks himself up off of the wood and stretches out, enjoying the warmth of the sun for a brief moment more before heading back towards the shadows of the city’s tall buildings.

——

hope you enjoyed \o/!! sorry to anyone who knows Sydney if I got anything wrong—Google only takes me so far… and I only found out about port botany halfway through this pfft

[allamericanb-tch]

crimson rivers thoughts (7)

@tastetherainbow290 more!! this one is longer

chapter 12

remus pov!!

LILY MENTION i love you lily i hope we see more of her in this

oh no wait what happened

wolfstar is wolfstarring

oh no the games. ugh.

regulus pov <3 i hope he finds evan

snake jump scare

james pov already wow ok

vanity!!! she lives

them boiling the water they’re so smart i love james

taking a break to eat dinner i will be back later.

ok i am back. (i love that im saying this as if my thoughts are being shared in real time)

“you’re going after regulus aren’t you” right as always, pete.

“stop thinking with your cock” PETER you icon

regulus pov again! i hope he finds james

water!!!!! huzzah

what is this spider 😭

james pov again

omg who died

i know it wasn’t regulus but i hope he is okay

wait is the spider like the wolf things?! that’s terrifying actually

omg irene and mathias hi

james interrogating them about regulus 😭

nice one regulus look at you killing avery spider

the lovers have been reunited!!!!

reggie come on don’t kill james

“he’s absolutely gorgeous” james now is not the time 😭

“you’re hesitating, love” AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

james “if i have to tie you up and carry you there, you are coming with me” potter

why is james flirting with regulus right now 😭 read the room james

james going with regulus because regulus wont go with james

“what’s it going to be”

chapter 13

another spice warning for this chapter… more jegulus content?! or is it wolfstar. probably wolfstar. although that’s what i said last time and it was jegulus..

young jegulus ���️‍🩹

“James has always been that infuriating mixture of wonderful and stupid” yeah that’s james.

HELP WHY IS JAMES BEAT BOXING

james. sweetie. i know you don’t want to kill the cute little family of deer but your only other option is to starve to death.

ok but why is this sad

i guess they choose starvation??

james missing sirius ☹️

“we’re a great big tragedy” that is exactly what jegulus is. you summed it up perfectly, thanks regulus

“do you think we would have gotten married” james 😭

REGULUS TRIPPING OVER THAT you know what you did james

“if it was you asking, you know i would have” ahhhhh

of course regulus ate the snake that tried to kill him. icon behavior.

eeeeeeeee jegulus

THE HANDCUFFS james get your mind out of the gutter

“mum dad look away im having impure thoughts” 😭

james doesn’t have his glasses?! how is he seeing right now

me rn: 💔

WHY IS IT ENDING HERE

i can’t even be mad about it because i love dorcas

omg dorcas!!! she’s safe

slow painful death ☹️ gotta be the worst kind

dorlene <333

why is marlene shocked that dorcas enjoyed the games when she was young. she is literally a hallow. and she was a child??

ok they’re flirting now

eeeeeee they’re kissing

ok more than kissing

“eyes up here sweetheart” dorcas im in love with you

i love dorlene this is a nice break from the arena

noooo the moment has been interrupted

fab and gid ☹️ don’t remind me

and its over.

chapter 14

im scared for this one

i really hope evan doesn’t die

“do fish even have brains” 😭 james please

james shamelessly being in love with regulus ugh i love them

of course james has a knife kink

the story <3

yeah sirius would try to eat rocks

“Your gifts at twelve were a lot different than they are at twenty-five” jamesss you

THE PARTING GIFT james you’re teasing the viewers

“everything proceeds to go wrong all at once.” oh no

evan?! i hope that isn’t you

james killed him. oh. my.

regulus is os caring ❤️‍🩹

james having a crisis

they’re holding hands omg

“all james wants is him”

MULCIBER

run joey run (glee cast version)

ouchie that seems like it hurt (wow. great observation from me.)

“when mulciber has a sword to his throat it’s not sexy at all” i would hope not?!

“he looks rather terrifying in a sexy way” james. babe. keep it in your pants you’re about to DIE

ok regulus

this is stressful. i know they both live but it is stressful nonetheless. 

yes james you go girl

HE JUST CHOPPED HIS HAND OFF???!!!!

the spear. i’m getting rue flashbacks.

I KNOW THEY LIVE BUT STILL

EVAN!!!!!!!! he’s alive and here to save the day

i love that evan calls regulus lover boy

evan is going to die and i am not ready

not regulus thinking of james as his boyfriend

“both” ahhhh reggieeeee

jegulus + evan god tier combo

my face when james calls regulus love: 🤭

NO JAMES WHAT

YOU CANT END THE CHAPTER LIKE THIS?! THIS HAS TO BE SOME FORM OF CRUEL AND UNUSUAL PUNISHMENT

is james going to go full peeta and lose his leg too

should i read another chapter….

[bonesandthebees]

WE’RE ALL SYNCED NOOO…. everyone remember to rest and eat and hot water bottles help with cramps but don’t burn urselves .. and maybe take some paracetamol too (or ibuprofen if ur feeling silly) my mother swears by it . I think it’s just a desi thing and like willpower i forgot tje term but like . when u believe something will help u so much it does . But it works for me..

AND HONEY WATER!! i will stand by honey water till the day i die just boil some water and add some honey and wait for it to cool (don’t burn ur throats guys) Or just add a bit of cold water like i do and supposedly that helps with a sore throat and it makes u feel all warm and fuzzy . my Dad taught me the first one he says its cause of the texture i never fact checked that

i’m getting carried away with the random food things ONE MORE FOR GOOD LUCK if u want . to make Desi chai . boil half a cup of water and put tjat in a tiny saucepan with the teabag, one cardamom (make sure u crack it open so the tiny little seeds drop out), like a Teaspoon of fennel seeds or something idk i just add whatever amount looks good, and optionally a little bit of cinnamon (again i just wing it just add a small bit) and some sugar/sweetener and let that all simmer for like 30 seconds while u get half a cup of milk and pour that into ur saucepan . Thenn you wanna mix that around a bit and leave it all to . cook? that doesn’t sound like the right word… whatever. leave it for a few minutes and ur final step is when the chai starts rising u let it rise to the top and then turn down the heat and let it sink (i have a gas stove but if you have an electric ermm just set it aside for two secs to sink i think that’ll work). let it rise and sink three times!!! this really makes the flavour pop according to my dad!! then just strain it and enjoy :3 i lovee chai it was inevitable being pakistani HAHA it always makes me feel better after anything whether i feel sick or something bad happens or if i’m just silly chai is just nice for any occasion . my phopo calls me an auntie but Likeee isnt being a rich brown auntie the life…… im not rich yet but one day guys trust

anyway that got long HAHA i love cooking and baking and stuff … and home remedies MEDICATION IS GOOD DONT GET ME WRONG but sometimes im too lazy to run to the shops and get some cough syrup or something so i just make some honey water .. please take ur meds and get vaccinated though guys ❤️ stay safe hope u liked my chai :3

do you know how many asks I've gotten saying they're also on their period literally why are all of my followers synced up WHAT IS THIS

everyone listen to our friend here. honey water sounds lovely I'll have to try it. usually I just go for drinking honey straight out of the bottle if I have a sore throat but I suppose honey water might work a bit better lol

also OOOO CHAI!! tbh I've always wanted to make chai at home because so often chai I've gotten in coffee shops just... isn't it. but when it's good it's so good. I'm going to take note of this so I can get some cardamom and fennel seeds from the store :))) so excited to try it

[granhairdo]

A Comprehensive Review of A Little in Love by Susan Fletcher

Disclaimer: Everyone can interpret the original book however they want, this is just me comparing how I viewed the original book to this. You and the author of this novel might have interpreted Éponine quite differently than I did :)

Ever since I heard there was a novel from Éponine’s perspective, I’ve been very curious to read it. It took me a few months, but I eventually bought myself an eBook copy and read it. But to be quite honest, I didn’t really like it.

My problem with this novel isn’t necessarily an issue with the content, and more of an issue about what was promised from it, which led me to have issues with the content.

The Amazon description states that it stays true to Victor Hugo’s novel, which I find a lie. This could have just been the author’s interpretation of the character, but to me if feels more like fanfiction of the musical with some added novel characters than a full fledged published book based off the original novel.

Now, I can see why bits of the content was toned down a little bit. This was a novel intended for a young teenage audience (12-15) so some of the more adult themes needed to be cut, which is understandable as it’s for a younger age group. But it seemed like cutting wasn’t a problem with this, it really just got rid of mentions of sex or suicide, and that was about it. It even elaborated on the harsh realities of street life, which I did find enjoyable. 

I didn’t completely hate this novel, I did enjoy a bit of it. I really enjoyed the writing style, it felt as if Susan Fletcher was really experienced in writing these sorts of period novels (I’m not familiar with her so maybe she does focus on period pieces like this). I also really enjoyed how she took scenes that weren’t really shown in the novel and made them big moments in Éponine’s life. 

Now onto my issues. My biggest issue with this novel is how Éponine is portrayed. To me, in this she feels far too innocent and righteous. Don’t get me wrong, Éponine in the original book has a righteous and protective side to her, but it isn’t her entire personality.

At first, as this is in first person POV, I thought that that her righteous way of describing herself was just an act she was putting on in her own head, portraying herself as the hero in her own mind. Which that is a very interesting thought on its own, but that’s not what the deal was in this. She carries her righteous thoughts into her actions as well, not doing anything wrong, which to me turns her into more of a Mary Sue than a corrupt street girl.

They cut out the whole “Éponine leading Marius to the barricade” thing from the book, and turned it more into a “Im gonna follow Marius to the barricade to protect him” which is basically how it went in the musical, but the musical doesn’t promise to be brick-accurate.

I also just find the whole puberty side plot at the beginning of it kind of annoying. It just feels like super forced relatability. I mean maybe if I had this book as an angsty hormonal 13 year old, I might have found that nice and relatable. 

If you want to write a book about relatable teenhood… please write about Cosette. (It might be my ‘I love Cosette’ brain telling me this, though). But in the original novel, Cosette had such a relatable teenhood that can be applied in the modern era. Just give her her first period and some new boobs and throw that into a 300+ page book, now I’d read that.

This book feels like it’s targeted at a strangely specific audience. But the problem is that audience is 14 year old ‘Eppi-boppers’ from 2013, and honestly as a former Eppi-bopper, I would have loved this book. But the problem is that this was published far after the “Eppi-bopper era” from like 2012-2015, so it kind of missed its time. If this book were published like 4 years earlier it would have been a HUGE success.

Also, I nearly peed my pants in laughter at the end because the last line was “love never dies” and all my stupid brain could think of was the shitty phantom sequel.

But long story short, I wasn’t a big fan of this book, and I don’t really recommend it for someone who has a less romanticized view of Éponine. But, if you’ve never cared for the book and only like the musical, I think you may enjoy it! Go for it! 

If you’ve read this novel before, I’m curious to see if you liked it or not.

[datclassicrockfan42]

21, 25, and 29 for the monkees ask! :-)

21. Currently my favorites are Dream World and Look Out(Here comes Tomorrow

25. I already answered this twice so you’re getting my other top 5 episodes(and at the end my first favorite)

10. The Monkees at the Movies

It’s really good episode and set up.

The ways they try to get Davy casted a leading movie star is really creative

So are the ways they get back at the snotty movie star.(I always laugh when Mike messes with the music)

The antagonist is really funny and I enjoyed most of his scenes

My only problem is that it’s a little out of character for Davy to become big-headed bc of fame. It just doesn’t seem right. Thank god the boys soon snapped him out of it.

9. I was a 99-lb weakling

There’s no Mike in this episode(which sucks) but it actually works(they make jokes about it and even use his songs for the musical sequences)

Peter and Davy definitely carry this episode and I enjoy every scene with them (especially Davy I thought he was the funniest one here)

8. The Christmas Show

IT WAS MY VERY FIRST EPISODE🥰🥰

Mike has “Dad mode” turned on for the duration of this episode and I love it

The plot is really heartwarming and it makes me soft

When they sing Deck the Halls(especially the GAY part)

The end of the episode were they perform “Riu Chi” and thank the crew members.. GOD I LOVE IT

7. Fairy Tale

PRINCESS GWEN MY LOVE🥰🥰🥰🥰

It cracks me up how Mike just kinda simps for himself and Micky has to shut him up

✨✨✨Daily Nightly musical sequence at the end✨✨✨✨✨

It’s a really funny episode and it’s nice to watch Mike enjoy himself

Oh and DAVY AS LITTLE RED RIDDING HOOD🥰🥰🥰

6. Captain Crocodile

It’s a really good episode and set up

The antagonists are enjoyable and I like his mob of four year olds

The musical sequences: Valleri(the first Recorded Version) is amazing and I love its aesthetic. Your Auntie Grizelda is hilarious and recycles a lot from previous episodes.

The little imagination sequence where they mock TV is great(my favorite sequence is Mike as the Weather Man, Tex Nesmith my love🥰🥰)

Oh and the part where they parody Batman is hilarious(as a fan of both shows) AND ILL DIE PEACEFULLY WHEN I FIND OUT WHAT KRETCH MEANS

Oh and at the beginning of the episode Mike kinda mutters “don’t hurt my hat” and it’s just makes me soft everytime

(I already put my top five in a separate answer)

But here’s number one

1. Monkees on The Line

It’s a really funny episode

All the boys have their own little storyline and it mainly focuses on Mike’s one. And they all come together in the end. So it’s perfectly balanced out.

Speaking of Mike: his autism swag in this episode goes through the roof! Personally (I’m about to get personal here) when I get self conscious about my stimming behaviors, I turn on this and episode and copy his hand movements in the beginning of the episode (if you’ve seen the episode you know what I’m talking about)

The outfits here are all slays(especially Mikes)

29. “Don’t do That” and People getting Mike’s Last Name wrong(like seriously how hard is it to say)

[killuaisaprincess]

National Holiday! 👏 The day I wrote my first fanfic ever 

[daenqyu]

— they walk in on their crush changing

includes: bakugou, kirishima, todoroki, midoriya, and tamaki

warnings: kinda suggestive?? swearing  

a/n: i saw multiple tiktoks about this and wanted to write something about it sooo yeah. some of them are a bit longer than others because i got carried away oops. hope you guys like it !!

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @orbital-audio )

bakugou katsuki:

listen, i feel like bakugou would act like he doesn’t care at all

but he’s definitely blushing and can’t look at you straight in the eye 

he just wanted to let you know that since kaminari and mina forced him to help them study, you could come too 

so he made his way to your dorm room while looking at his phone

and he doesn’t even knock so you’re quite startled

although you don’t blame him because he’s always hanging out in your room and vice versa

“hey we’re gonna have a study session later tonight, in case you wanna come” his eyes are glued to his phone as he talks, but you still feel embarrassed that he’s in the same room as you while you’re changing 

after a few seconds go by with no response from you, he finally looks up from the device

“i’m talking to you-” the breath gets knocked out of him when he sees you’re in the middle of trying on different outfits 

and apparently you were about to try a new one because you’re just in your freaking underwear 

bakugou may be a lot of things, but he is not a pervert 

so he’s quick to turn around to face the door, his eyes tightly shut even tho he can’t see anything as it is since you’re behind him

“you dumbass, don’t you know how to lock a fucking door?! is not that hard for fuck’s sake” 

you almost want to laugh at the blonde’s state

you’ve never seen him like this before so you might as well tease him about it

“didn't your parents teach you it's impolite to enter a room without knocking first?”

oh he can hear the smirk on your face and he wants nothing more than to go up to you and wipe it off himself 

but he knows you’re still in your underwear 

and while it’s true he’s a gentleman, he’s also a man

seeing his crush in her underwear will most definitely get a reaction out of him

he curls his hands into fists by his side, jaw clenching because he knows you’re probably enjoying this

“just shut up and get dressed”

“is my room, i can stay like this if i want”

“put. something. on”

his tone annoys you

who the hell is he to tell you what to do?

“and what if i don’t want to?”

you’re just buffing of course, you’ve already put on one of bakugou’s shirt that you stole from him a week ago

his patience is running out 

and he’s mad at himself because fuck, why does he have to like you so much?

if it was any other girl he couldn’t have cared less and would’ve just walked out

but it’s you, his crush

you’re so different from everyone else and it makes his blood boil because feelings are stupid and he should be focusing on becoming the number one hero, not some silly high school crush

“okay i'm dressed”

a sigh of relief escapes his lips as he turns around, but it doesn’t take long before his eyes are wide open as he takes in your figure

oh

you’re wearing his shirt

it ends just above your mid thigh and it falls around your figure loosely, obviously too big for you

bakugou can feel butterflies in his stomach at the sight 

why are you so pretty? 

“what was that you were saying when you walked in?”

you’re so calm and collected, walking around with only his shirt on 

normally he hates when people wear his clothes, but it looks so good on you he can’t even bring himself to be annoyed

“we’re having a study session tonight,” his voice is low and he fixes his gaze on the wall behind you. “and you can come too, if you want to that is”

“wait that’s a great idea, i’ve been falling behind on english recently”

he nods and you frown at his actions 

sure bakugou can be quiet, when he’s not mad, but he looks  rather…shy?

you smirk once again, knowing what this is all about

“don’t tell me the bakugou katsuki has never seen a girl naked before?”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“well is either that or you like me because why else would you be so red right now?”

he groans when you say that

anyways he uhhh got tired of you not getting all the hints he’s been dropping and just straight up corners you against the wall

your heart is about to burst out of your chest at the close proximity and the feeling only intensifies when he smirks

he leans down, lips merely inches away from your own

“seeing as you’re not pushing me away right now, i say you like me too, dumbass”

well he’s not wrong soooo

you end up kissing after that✨

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to its rightful owner )

kirishima eijirou:

oh boy, this poor baby

he would be the type to apologize around 100 times and even when you told him it was fine and that you didn’t care, he would still feel guilty

ok so what happened was you were getting ready for your date with kirishima

because yes, he finally asked you out and you couldn’t be happier with life at the moment

and he wanted to know how much longer you were gonna take since he was already done

but you wouldn’t answer his texts

spoiler alert: you were just showering but he was too impatient and also he just wanted to see you again hehe he’s so cute

anyways,,

he makes his way to your room and knocks on the door 

it’s more of like a warning because he doesn’t even wait for a response, he just barges in

you had gotten out of the shower like 3 minutes ago and were in the process of drying your hair in the middle of the room, your back facing kirishima 

“hey y/n how much longer do you think- shit!”

his voice scares you, but you don’t move because you know it’ll be worse if you do 

so you stay frozen in your place

kirishima notices the droplets of water falling from your hair and down your spine before slowly falling down the curves of your-

he flushes completely, his face now matching his dyed hair perfectly, and he turns around with both of his hands covering his eyes

“i’m so so so sorry! that was so unmanly of me. i should’ve just waited until you texted me, but i missed you and wanted to see you so i came over and didn’t wait for an answer and then i saw you and oh god you’re naked and-”

“kirishima,”

he shuts up when he hears your soft voice calling his name

“yeah?”

“calm down”

after that he just stays quiet, trying to calm the erratic beating of his heart and not let his imagination run wild

you should be the one that’s flustered because your best friend and crush just saw your bare ass

but if anything, kirishima’s the one who feels like he’s about to faint from seeing so much skin

he thinks it’s really unmanly of him to see you naked without your consent so he’s on the brink of an existential crisis

meanwhile, as kirishima rethinks all of his life choices, you finish drying your hair and continue to put on your outfit, knowing kirishima wouldn’t turn around any time soon

he’s still facing away from you even when you’ve finished dressing up

you giggle, thinking about how cute he is before tapping his shoulder 

“you can look now, kiri”

even with your permission, he’s still hesitant about his movements

he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything so that’s why he genuinely doesn’t know what to do

kirishima turns around slowly, eyes now focused on the floor

“i’m really sorry about that, y/n. i didn’t mean to i swear and i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable but-”

“kiri, i’m not mad at you”

“you’re not?”

“of course not, i know it was an accident”

well thank god because he wouldn’t forgive himself if he made you upset 

“besides, you were eventually gonna see me naked”

it was a joke

supposed to be

but kirishima whips his head your way and his eyes almost pop out of their sockets 

a part of him is shy sure, but the other part wants to run laps after hearing you say that

“well yeah but that’s different…” he scratches the back of his neck nervously and your heart swells for the boy in front of you

he really is so sweet

he just wants you to be completely comfortable around him

how could you not be in love with him? 

“how about we forget this ever happened, i finish getting ready, and then we go on our date? hm?”

he nods eagerly after hearing you say that, if you’re happy then he’s absolutely content 

you smile at him before standing up on your tip toes and leaving a chaste kiss against his cheek

of course he blushes again

he’ll never get tired of your cuteness 

or you in general

but this time he’s more confident when he pulls you to his chest in a tight hug

“the view was really nice by the way”

“kirishima!”

“what? i'm just saying you should be proud”

“you’re so stupid”

“stupidly in love with you that is”

he’s got a dumb smile on his face after he says that

and it only widens when you take his hand in yours to sit him down on your bed 

yup, he’s head over heels for you

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to its rightful owner )

todoroki shouto:

out of the five of them, he’d DEFINITELY be the most chill about it

sure, he’d still feel embarrassed and what not

but he wouldn’t make such a big deal about it

simply because he doesn’t want to make things awkward between you two

so he decides it’s best if he just keeps acting like he normally would

you texted him to come over so you could watch some movies together 

and he had some homework to do but it’s not like he was gonna pass up on the opportunity of spending quality time with you 

unlike the other first years,

todoroki actually knocks and waits for your response

because he has manners, period.

“come on in!”

you said it was okay to come in

so why the hell are you in the middle of changing shirts?????

he wastes no time in closing his eyes

refusing to keep looking at you when you probably don’t even know he’s watching

“um y/n?”

“yes?”

“what are you doing?”

“i’m changing, isn’t it obvious?” your chuckle makes his cheeks heat up 

was this amusing to you?

because he was seconds away from having a heart attack 

however he doesn’t show it

instead, he just continues to keep his eyes closed while trying to think about literally anything else except your bare skin

key word: trying

because he can’t seem to get the image of your clothed breasts out of his mind and he thinks he’s about to go insane 

he also scolds himself because a gentleman shouldnt do that 

but you don’t seem to care at all and that confuses him so much (???

“why do you have your eyes closed?”

“are you done changing”

“yeah”

when he opens his eyes again you’re sitting down on your bed, laptop placed in front of you as you scroll down on netflix

now fully dressed

he lets out a sigh of relief before clearing his throat and sitting down next to you

and he thinks he’s being slick and smooth

but he’s not

he’s actually almost completely stiff 

and when you subconsciously brush your knee against his, he flinches

you frown at his reaction

“are you okay?”

“yeah, why do you ask?”

“because you’re acting weird”

“am not”

“you are”

the banter goes on for a while until you finally figure it out

the way his eyes occasionally look down on your chest only to quickly look away with a blush on his cheeks it's what gives him away

“wait, are you embarrassed just because you saw my boobs?”

cue todoroki wanting to get the hell out of your room

“i’m not embarrassed” 

“your blush says otherwise, todoroki”

he doesn’t know what to say afterwards so he just sits there with a pout on his pretty lips and his eyebrows furrowed

he’s so shy and cute🥺

“if you want to, you can take your shirt off so we’ll be tied”

your tone is teasing as you continue to scroll on your computer, not really giving much thought to what you said

except you forgot todoroki takes everything quite literally

the grin falls from your lips as soon as you see todoroki, indeed, taking off his shirt 

“w-what are you doing?!”

“you said we need to be tied”

“todoroki, that was a joke!”

the roles have been reversed because now you're the one who’s all flustered and looking away from him

he blinks once, then twice before smiling at you

“now who’s being shy?”

“i- shut up and watch the movie”

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to its rightful owner )

midoriya izuku:

he would die

not literally duh

but he’d want to disappear right then and there

you know that one scene where hatsume is pressed up against him and he blushes a shit ton and is just like “b-b-boobs”?

well yeah he’s like that

except he can barely talk because of how embarrassed he is 

he’d also, like kirishima, apologize a lot

he literally just feels like he committed a crime

and you’re like “midoriya, it’s not that deep”

but he’s just upset with himself 

you had told him earlier that you needed some help with your homework

and since he’s such a wonderful friend, he didn’t hesitate to tell you that he’d be more than happy to help

so now he’s happily walking to your room because he loves study dates with you

even tho they’re not dates at all

but still

he loves them

especially whenever you get a question right and you just look up at him with big puppy eyes, waiting for him to praise you

and he does

because you deserve it

you work so hard and he admires you for that

ok BAcK to the point,,,

(i’m sorry i just love this man so much, he makes me so soft)

here’s the deal

midoriya knocks on your door right?

but you don’t hear it because you’re blasting music on your speaker while singing your heart out

so he lets himself in

tho he wants to run back out when he sees your naked back is facing him

you’re changing; that’s the first thing he notices 

the second thing he notices is that you’re standing in front of a mirror

and you’re not wearing a bra

he yelps before turning around and you jump because you hadn’t noticed him 

“izuku? what are you-”

“i’m so sorry y/n! i didn’t mean to invade your privacy like this a-and i didn’t know you were changing and so i opened the door and then i saw you and oh god you’re not wearing a shirt which isn’t bad you know, i m-mean i'm not saying you look bad because ha believe me you don’t but-”

“oh my god dude, would you relax?”

you laugh as you finish putting on your hoodie 

he frowns, you’re laughing? in a situation like this?! are you okay???

“again, i’m sorry and it’s okay if you want me to go because it’s weird and i don’t want you to feel uncomfortable because of me so-”

“ok izuku, first of all stop talking,” he quickly shuts his mouth, still facing the closed door so you don’t see his tomato-like cheeks. “second, turn around,” you place your hands on his shoulders to make him look at you and he tenses at the touch, but turns around anyways 

you offer him a kind smile, the one that makes him fall harder for you everyday and that’s enough to ease his nerves a bit

“third, quit freaking out. it’s not like i’m gonna kill you or anything”

“b-but how are you so...calm?”

“uhh because i don’t really care?” 

he doesn’t know why, but his heart hurts a little after hearing you say that

is not like he expects you to actually reciprocate his feelings but,,

he didn’t have an effect on you whatsoever? not even a little bit?

“and besides, it’s you so i don’t mind”

“what do you mean?”

you shrug, smirking at the green haired boy, “well you like me, right?”

he almost stops breathing 

maybe he did for a few seconds

he looks at you, a mix of emotions flashing through his expression 

is he relieved? is he scared? is he happy?

he doesn’t  k n o w

neverthless, he nods shyly, looking away from your captivating gaze

“and i like you so it’s okay”

midoriya.exe has stopped working

someone PLEASE calm this boy down

he’s about to explode from feeling so much happiness 

“you do?!”

“of course” you smile at him one last time, before interlacing your fingers with his and sitting down on the rug next to your bed so you can study 

or maybe you got a little carried away and ended up cuddling all evening while eating ramen

but that’s besides the point

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to its rightful owner )

tamaki amajiki:

sweet little baby

he faints :D

no but seriously

he does.

are we surprised? 

nope, not at all

he can’t look at you for more than 5 seconds without getting nervous as it is,

but after he saw you half naked?!

yeah no, that’s too much for tamaki

his body shuts down because he cannot handle it

nejire told him to go check up on you because you seemed off at school

which tamaki also noticed because he’s very observant with people (especially you) but he preferred to not say anything 

of course his first response to nejire is straight up: no

he’s too shy 

and he’s scared because what if you get mad at him? or tell him to go away?

he thinks it’s better to give you your space and if you want to talk to him, then he’s more than ready to listen

but nejire wouldn’t shut up about it

then mirio butted in too and they were just whining a lot and he got tired of hearing them talk

now here he is, standing in front of your room with a shaky hand hovering against the wooden door

much like todoroki, he knocks and patiently waits for a response 

which he receives quickly 

“who is it?”

“tamaki”

“ahh tama, let yourself in!”

he blushes at the nickname and finally opens the door

he’s about to go sit on your desk chair or something 

but then he sees you

you’re only in your underwear, struggling to put on a hoodie 

and then you jump to try and get it on

and that makes it worse because you’re wearing a  b r a 

long story short,

he falls to the floor :D

the big ‘thud’ startles you and even more so when you see tamaki’s unconscious body on the floor

“shit, tama are you okay?”

it takes him a good 5 minutes to open his eyes again 

he feels a cold towel pressed up against his forehead and he frowns at the feeling

when he turns his head around, he notices that he’s laying down on your bed

but you're nowhere to be seen 

“thank god you’re awake” 

your voice comes from behind him and that’s when he realizes he’s not only laying down on your bed, but also on your lap

“you really worried me!”

cue him blushing like there’s no tomorrow and stuttering 

“s-sorry. i was just s-surprised to see you c-changing and i’m sorry i didn’t tell you i was coming b-beforehand”

you shake your head, “that’s okay tama, i’m not mad at you”

he just nods because he’s afraid he’ll say something dumb if he talks

you brush your fingers through his indigo hair and he swears he can feel himself falling more in love with you in that precise moment 

you smile down at him

“what did you come here for anyway? not that i mind, but you know”

“nejire told me y-you seemed down today s-so i came to check up on you”

butterflies flutter in your stomach at his sweet words

“aww you’re so sweet, but i’m okay. i was just feeling sad”

he sits up to look at you better and he doesn’t miss the way you pout when his hair is no longer in between your fingers 

which makes his heart speed up 

“are you okay?”

his question is so genuine and he seems so concerned, it makes you want to keep him in your pocket forever

“i am now” 

he smiles at your response, happy that you feel better

“i’m glad”

“now come here, i wanna play with your hair”

and who is he to deny such request?

[hopelesshawks]

A Deal with God

Itto x gn!Reader

I came up with this idea back during the Perilous Trails event on Genshin and turned it into a collab event with @hutaoscoffinn. This is at least a month after we said we’d post stuff but alas 🥴 anyway here it is and I hope y’all enjoy

The blog posting this is 18+ only. Any minors who try to follow will be blocked

Tags and Warnings: very character centric, slight side ship content, temporary major character death, heavy angst, hallucinations

Link to change y/n to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

General Masterlist Kofi

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Is now the time for this?”

“Tell him I’m sorry…”

“What do you— Traveler, what do you mean?”

“You know how he is so just… tell him I’m sorry and that I love him. Take care of him for me.”

“Wait, don't—!”

~ ~ ~

Itto stretches as the sun feels warm on his face, his joints popping after his nap as he wakes his body back up. 

“Ah I slept like a rock, good times…” he yawns, only to notice the grim look on Shinobu’s face as Floating Lavender Melon clings onto her. Lavender Melon’s eyes are red like she’s been crying and when he turns his gaze towards his lawyer savior her expression matches Shinobu’s in its solemnity. 

“Huh? What’re you doing? What’s going on? Why’s everyone looking at me like that?” he asks. 

He gets silence back. It’s his savior that speaks up first but even she seems a little choked up. 

“Well, uhm, first thing’s first. How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?” she asks cautiously and Itto can’t understand why everyone’s so fucking grim all of a sudden. 

“The fuck are you talking about? I’m fine! I had an epic power nap and now I feel like a million mora! I feel like I’m forgetting something though…”

He stops to think for a moment, missing the way everyone winces.

“Oh yea! Wait… Weren’t we underground? How did we get back up here? And where’s (y/n) run off to?”

He looks around the other three trying to catch a sight of you but no dice. Lavender Melon starts crying and he’s not sure what he said to offend her. 

“Hey don’t cry! What’s wrong?? Whatever it is I totally didn’t mean it! I’m just tryna figure out what’s going on!” he tries to assure her, worried he may have hurt your little friend’s feelings. You’re always telling him to play nice with Paimon. 

“It’s a long story but… Itto you should know. Traveler didn’t make it,” Yanfei explains but Itto just cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“What do you mean they didn’t make it? They were just with us when I took my nap.”

It’s Shinobu who speaks up next and the fact she doesn’t sound exasperated or teasing or any of the usual tones he hears her speak with is starting to freak him out a bit. 

“While we were trying to escape we were attacked by these red spirits. Yelan and Xiao needed to focus on powering our way out, I was carrying you, Yanfei isn’t really a fighter so… Traveler sacrificed themselves to make sure the rest of us could get out. They’re gone Boss.”

Grief seems to hang heavy in the air but Itto doesn’t understand. You know how he feels about self-sacrifice. You’d never… and anyway there’s no way some stupid little spirits would get you. You’re The Traveler! Slayer of Dragons! Ender of the Sakoku Decree! Proud co-boss of the Arataki Gang! Well… he technically never talked to you about being co-boss but he figures you just know that the title comes with the territory of dating him. Regardless!! There is absolutely no way in hell you’re gone. Everyone else must be insane if they really think that. 

“So what you’re saying is they’re still inside right?” he asks.

Everyone nods.

“Ok, then I’ll wait here.” 

“Boss…” Shinobu starts.

“What?”

“They’re not coming back.”

“They are. Just you wait, aaaany minute they’re gonna spring right up and you’ll feel SO stupid for doubting the Great Arataki Itto and his equally fantastic partner.”

“Seriously it’s… It’s not happening. We should go.”

“Oh Shinobu. Silly, silly Shinobu. This is why I’m the boss. Trust me. My baby is gonna pop up right there and you’re all gonna wish you listened to Itto and stuck around to see it because it’s going to be fucking fantastic.”

“You didn’t… you didn’t see it, Boss. I’m sorry but we should go I—”

“Nope. Staying right here.”

“They had to have fallen hundreds if not thousands of meters! Even if they survived the fall they’re stuck! Forever! Don’t you get that? They’re dead!”

“Kuki…” Yanfei cuts her off, putting a hand on her shoulder to help ground her. It’s only then Shinobu realizes she’d started trembling and Paimon has grown even more distraught. 

“Shit… sorry I… I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up,” she apologizes with a wince before turning back to Itto, “but you’re being stubborn. We can’t stay here, we need to get back to the others in Inazuma.”

“No. I’m staying here. You just don’t know (y/n) like I do,” Itto insists before stomping over to a spot on the grass some distance from the group and dropping down to sit there cross-legged, done with the conversation. 

What did they know? Shinobu only just met you and even if you knew Yanfei before, she can’t possibly know you as well as your amazing, awesome, totally attentive and caring boyfriend does. You’re going to make it out. You have to. And no way is he going to let you surface and find yourself completely alone. So he doesn’t move; even when Yanfei squeezes his shoulder as well and then walks away; even when Shinobu shakes her head and leaves with Floating Lavender Melon in tow. 

Itto stays when the sun goes down.

He stays when it comes back up again.

And the same the next day.

And the next.

And the next. 

~ ~ ~

Kuki figures Itto lasted a day before he finally realized you weren’t coming. Maybe his stubbornness kept him there for a few days. Absolute max a week. Regardless, when she touches down in Inazuma she’s fairly confident Itto is already on a boat back or at least hunting one down. In the meantime, as usual, she’ll have to keep the gang together and break the news to them. She’s not actually sure if taking Paimon with her is the best idea considering she’d only just met her, but the Arataki gang has always been about taking in strays and as frustrating as the gang’s naive optimism and overconfidence can be, that may be precisely the energy Paimon needs right now. 

It takes everything in Kuki not to wince when the gang comes rushing up to her, clearly looking for their (stupidly) fearless leader. They’re surrounding her asking questions in a moment, too quickly for her to process any of them. Paimon shrinks against her chest, a habit she’s taken too quite a bit since the chasm. 

“Ok, ok stand down guys, one at a time,” Kuki sighs. 

“Where’re boss and co-boss??” Genta asks nervously.

The boys always get this way whenever Itto leaves: antsy and anxious. Usually their concerns are unfounded so it’s easy enough to brush off, but this time well… Kuki still isn’t quite sure how to break it to them. 

“Boss is still in Liyue,” she starts cautiously, “he has business to attend to there still and Traveler… Traveler won’t be coming back.”

“What do you mean they won’t be coming back?” Akira presses.

Kuki doesn’t respond verbally. She just gives the boys a significant look and she knows they understand from the immediate aura of grief that seems to settle heavy on all their shoulders. She hates it. She hates she had to be the one to break it to them on her own; hates that Itto isn’t here with the perfectly wrong words to bring the mood back up. She doesn’t blame him for his absence but as frequently as Itto shows himself an incapable boss, it’s moments like these that remind her why he still carries the title. 

“Anyway, Paimon will be joining us for now so you idiots better behave alright? We all have to take good care of her as a member of the Arataki gang,” Kuki declares and she’s grateful that the boys all respond enthusiastically. It’ll be good for them to have something else to focus on and Kuki could use the distraction herself. She barely knew you, but she still feels your loss quite deeply. It somehow both surprises her and doesn’t. It’s odd to consider someone so important after such a short time together, but she gets the feeling that’s just the effect you had on people. After all, how else could you have befriended such varied people from all across Teyvat? Even the adeptus had looked heartbroken by your passing. 

And when it came to Itto, well… Kuki didn’t think he had any interest whatsoever in romance before you came along. It was all childish games, beetle fights, and getting into trouble until you showed up in his life. When he fell for you he fell hard. Kuki thought it was puppy love. She thought you were another hyperfixation Itto would latch onto, cause trouble for, and then move on from. But Itto’s love for you held firm and finally getting to see the two of you interact together in the chasm had shown her how wrong she was. Itto is careless by nature but she could see the way he tried so hard not to be careless with you. Perhaps you were a little too accommodating of even his dumbest ideas, sharing sympathy even when she and the others teased him for his recklessness, but Kuki didn’t miss the way he’d melt into you whenever you praised or reassured him. You didn’t let him off the hook, but you were soft with him in a way Kuki can never bring herself to be. She thinks it made for a good balance. She remembers commenting on it, how protective you seem of him sometimes, during one of those weird rest periods down in the chasm. You’d chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of your neck.

“Yeaaa… it’s a bit much isn’t it?”

“I never said that!” Kuki refuted but you shook your head to show her it was ok.

“You could say it though. I know you’re right. I know stuff rolls off his back pretty quickly. Heck I probably get more upset over stuff than he does half the time. But… he’s had a lot of people judge him, write him off, and chase him out his entire life. He hasn’t had nearly as many protecting him. So even when he doesn’t care, even when it’s not that deep, I want to be by his side. Just so he knows y’know? So he knows there’s someone there when he can’t be The Great Arataki Itto.”

Kuki isn’t entirely sure there’s ever a time when he isn’t The Great Arataki Itto but your point touched her all the same. It was reassuring knowing her boss had someone with a better head on their shoulders by his side when she couldn’t be. Archon knows no one in the rest of the gang can be that person. As it is she’ll have her hands full keeping them in control without their charismatic leader to at least direct their chaotic energy somewhere. 

Over the next few days Kuki’s time is spent corralling the gang and helping cheer up Paimon. Both tasks are all consuming and soon days turn to weeks without her even realizing it. The gang settles into a rhythm, hyperfixated on helping Paimon, who through their misguided efforts does start to smile a little more again. In fact, they settle into so much of a rhythm that Kuki doesn’t even notice that Itto should long since have returned to Inazuma from Liyue. When she does finally realize, it’s because Itto has made his triumphant return in the most Itto fashion possible:

By getting arrested.

An exasperated Kujou Sara alerts her that immediately upon arriving home, Itto attempted to break into Tenshukaku to gain audience with the Raiden Shogun herself and as a result Kuki now needs to go bail him out of jail. Again…

It’s at least reassuring he’s gone right back to his old tricks.

Except when she arrives at the prison, expecting a wide, sheepish grin and unrepentant enthusiasm, she’s instead met with a cold, eerie silence and an empty shell of her boss.

~ ~ ~  

Itto failed you. 

Asking the archon for help was his last shot and he failed you.

Tears brim in his eyes. He’s always been a cry baby hasn’t he? Shinobu teases him about it sometimes. He probably doesn’t deserve to cry over this. Not when he was knocked out when he should have been helping you fight off the spirits Shinobu spoke of. Not when he’s the only reason Shinobu couldn’t help you herself. Not when he’d just fucked up the only possible way he had to maybe get you back. He faces the wall as the tears descend, ashamed of them. He doesn’t deserve them. Doesn’t deserve to cry for you.

How many times has he been warned about being reckless? How many times has Shinobu told him his actions could lead to this very thing happening?

You were the best thing that ever happened to him and now you’re gone and there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.

“Boss?”

Shinobu’s voice cuts through his thoughts. She must be so disappointed in him. She tried to tell him you weren’t coming and he didn’t listen and now she’s been out here running the gang alone for… he’s not sure how long. He lost track of the days after the first few. 

“I, uh, bailed you out. We’re free to go.”

Itto rises from the ground finally turning around to face her only to realize he can’t meet her eyes. Guilt and bile climb up his throat. His ancestors must be so ashamed of him. So much for oni pride. 

Shinobu hesitates as if expecting Something but Itto isn’t sure what. Another beat passes and finally she turns and starts to lead him out, occasionally checking over her shoulder as if she still can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. They step out into the hustle and bustle of Inazuma City but it feels wrong. You’re usually here waiting for him whenever Shinobu comes to bail him out. Instead there’s nothing. Shinobu just keeps walking as if there isn’t a gaping you-sized hole in the air and he follows because there’s nothing else he can do. 

He wants to cry again.

He doesn’t. 

When they reach Byakko Plain where the gang is waiting, they surround him and he thinks he hears Shinobu warn them not to crowd but it’s hard to process much of anything. As he finally lifts his gaze up, he finds he still can’t meet their eyes, especially when he notices Little Floating Lavender Melon amongst the group. Everyone talks at him at once except for Shinobu, who is trying to quiet the others, and Lavender Melon who stays silent. It all sounds like white noise to him but he can tell from their faces that they’re concerned about him. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, shores up the scattered remains of The Great Arataki Itto and sets them ablaze to give one last announcement to his gang.

“I have to go! Granny needs me! Shinobu’s in charge until I get back!”

The moment he’s made the declaration he shoves past them all to head back towards Hanamizaka, leaving the ashes of himself behind. If he’d really been thinking he would have just stopped there immediately and slinked into his granny’s house on he and Shinobu’s way out of the city, before he could be confronted with the gang. But he hadn’t been. Everything feels like a blur. He’s not even 100% sure how he’s putting one foot in front of the other. He blinks and suddenly his granny is opening the door for him at her house and for the first time in forever he feels like that lost little kid with nothing and no one that she first found all those years ago. 

Except he doesn’t have no one. He has an entire gang in fact. A gang he’s just left dumbfounded and abandoned on Byakko Plain. Yet somehow it doesn’t provide him any comfort knowing they’re there. He doesn’t know how to be who they expect him to be in a world without you in it. So instead he lets himself be a lost and lonely child, reliant on the kindness of a sweet old woman as she tucks him into the bed of his old room. 

~ ~ ~

“Thank you for the walk,” Kuki sighs appreciatively as she follows Kujou Sara around on her patrol through the city. 

“You looked like you could use it. I’m guessing you’ve been busy keeping the gang in check considering it’s been so quiet around here lately,” Sara comments as she watches her friend just as closely as she watches the streets around her. 

It’s precisely that vigilance that allows her to notice the minute tensing of Kuki’s shoulders and how her steps stutter for just a moment as they walk.

“What is it? What have they done now?” Sara insists, suddenly protective. The gang has always run Shinobu ragged and Sara hasn’t been shy about expressing her concern. She’s tried to convince the other woman to leave the gang. After all, Sara would gladly get Kuki a job working amongst the Tenryou Commission’s forces. But Kuki shakes her head with a wry smile. 

“No it’s not anything they’ve done. I almost wish it was. I at least know how to deal with that. It’s the boss. He’s been practically catatonic since I bailed him out last month. He was quiet the whole walk back and when I finally got him to the gang he made a flimsy excuse to leave and has been holed up in his grandmother’s ever since,” she explains.

There are few things that genuinely surprise Sara but hearing that the resident neighborhood nuisance has locked himself away from his merry band of misfits is certainly enough to do the job. 

“He seemed fine when I arrested him. Perhaps a bit rowdier than normal but back to his usual tricks demanding to see the Shogun. What changed?” 

“I have a theory about that…” Kuki starts and her saddened tone draws all of Sara’s focus, “you remember what I told you happened to Traveler right?”

Sara nods, her mouth pressing into a grim line. How could she forget? 

“Boss didn’t give up on them resurfacing at first. That’s why he came back after I did. He refused to leave the entrance to the chasm, kept insisting it was only a matter of time until Traveler would pop out too. I think he finally figured out there was no way they could do it on their own so if Traveler couldn’t pull it off, and an adeptus couldn’t pull it off…”

“Maybe an archon could,” Sara says, completing Kuki’s sentence for her as the other woman nods. 

“Yea… Once he failed to get help from the Shogun I think he just didn’t know what else to do. He’s not used to being completely shut down like that and I don’t think he knows what to do without Traveler.”

Sara may not be Itto’s biggest fan but she cares about Kuki. A lot. And if helping the infamous oni would lift a weight off Kuki’s shoulders then so be it. She takes a moment to gather her thoughts on the matter before finally sharing them with her friend. 

“Well maybe he had a good idea for once. I can see if I can get a message to the Shogun through official channels. After all, Traveler has done much for Inazuma. We’d be remiss to stand idly by when we could potentially save them.”

Kuki’s eyes widen as she takes a gentle hold of Sara’s arm, stopping them both on the path through town. Sara feels her heart pick up speed in her chest, blood rushing to her face at Kuki’s grateful gaze. 

“You’d seriously do that? I don’t want to cause you too much trouble, especially over the gang,” Kuki insists, although it’s impossible for her to keep the cautious optimism from her voice. 

Sara clears her throat awkwardly, unable to maintain the eye contact as she finds herself suddenly feeling sheepish. 

“O-Obviously. As I said, Traveler has done much for Inazuma and if bringing them back also makes things a bit easier on you then so be it.”

She feels Kuki squeeze her arm before it slips away and the other woman steps up next to her.

“Thank you Sara. I mean it.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I can’t guarantee it will work.”

“I know but… somehow I already feel a lot better. So thank you.” 

Sara isn’t quite sure she deserves the level of faith Kuki seems to have in this plan. After all there’s no way of knowing if the Shogun will be able to help even if she chooses to, which in and of itself is not guaranteed. Still, she won’t question it too much. Not when Kuki seems lighter than she has the entire time they’ve been walking together. 

~ ~ ~

Itto doesn’t know that he’s ever felt such guilt in his entire life.

He feels guilty for failing you.

He feels guilty for failing the gang.

He feels guilty for burdening his granny and he feels guilty for dishonoring the proud name of the Oni. 

It weighs on his chest, pinning him to the bed, and on the rare occasions he can force himself up, the weight simply shifts to his shoulders to make each step more painful than the last. He can barely move on the best of days, is completely immobilized on the worst. Every day he tries to get out of his room. Every day he fails. 

In his defense he’s made progress. The first week he didn’t even bother trying. He laid motionless in bed staring up at the ceiling, ignoring every meal his granny left at his side. Things started getting fractionally better about halfway through the second week. 

That’s when you started showing up.

Or rather… Not You. 

Not You looks like you. They sound like you. They have all the right mannerisms and quirks and features. They’re almost identical to you in every way. So much so that when they first leaned over his bed to look down at him with their eyebrows furrowed in concern, his eyes had widened, vision going blurry with unshed tears as he thought for a moment that you had returned to him; but when he reached up to caress what he thought were your cheeks, his hand passed right through Not You, dissipating the image like smoke and leaving him alone with the guilt and the grief once more.

He’s learned his lesson since then. Don’t touch. Just look and listen and Not You will stick around to encourage him to do better. He considered the idea that Not You was the work of a tanuki or perhaps the archon herself, but he eliminated that possibility when he realized he’s the only one who can see them. No, Not You wasn’t gifted to him. They are a product of his own brain: his memories and imagination combining forces to give him the only potential cure to his current state that his brain could think of.  

This time Itto makes it halfway across the room before the weight becomes too much and he has to sit down. He drops to the ground none too gracefully, chest heaving as if he’s run for kilometers on end instead of walking a meter or two at most. It’s the furthest he’s gotten so far but it’s still not nearly enough and the remainder of his room looms large ahead of him. He presses the heels of his palms to his eyes and sighs, body hunching over. 

“You did so well Big Guy,” Not You assures him from where they’re stood at his side. 

“It’s not good enough,” he fires back.

“For now it is.”

“But–”

“Itto?”

His head snaps up. The door of his room is open and Not You stands in the entryway with one hand still on the handle. His brows furrow in confusion as he snaps his head back to where he’d just heard Not You’s voice coming from only moments ago but they’re indeed gone so he returns his gaze to their new location. It’s odd. Not You doesn’t normally teleport between locations in his room anymore since it destroys the illusion and upsets him. And while Not You frequently looks at him with concern, they rarely look confused anymore. He thinks he catches sight of Shinobu and Kujou Tengu just past the doorway in the main area of Granny’s house but Not You closes the door behind themself before he can be sure. That too is odd. Not You usually can’t actually move things in his room. Maybe his… visions (calling Not You a vision sounds better than calling them a hallucination) are getting worse if he thinks Not You is actually moving things in the room now. 

Not You approaches slowly and hesitantly, sinking down towards him once they’re close. They reach out as if to touch him and he flinches back and away. A flash of hurt crosses their face the way it always does when he reacts like this, but he’s found it takes longer for the vision to return when they dissipate from his touch so he’s extra careful now. 

“You know I can’t touch you,” he rasps, his voice hoarse from how rarely he uses it nowadays. He tries to limit how much he verbally responds to Not You since Granny once caught him doing it and looked even more concerned than usual afterwards.

“Why not?” Not You asks and it draws a pained whine from his lips that reverberates through his chest, his broken heart struggling to beat. 

“You know why.”

“Explain it to me again.”

He sighs heavily and his vision blurs with the tears he refuses to let fall once more.

“Because you’re not really here… You’re not really them and the minute I touch you you’ll vanish and it takes so long for you to come back,” he admits, his voice wet as he draws his knees up so he can hide his face in them.  

But then suddenly there’s a warm hand on his back and someone takes hold of his chin oh so gently to force him to look up again. The eyes his gaze is forced to meet shine in a way Not You’s could never quite capture and when silent tears start to fall and Itto raises a cautious hand up to brush them away, the pads of his fingers meet warm skin instead of air. 

All at once it hits him. This isn’t Not You, it’s you. He doesn’t know how but it’s seriously, actually you. For real. Flesh and blood and there and he doesn’t feel like wasting time to ask questions so he doesn’t. He simply launches himself into you, his large arms wrapping around you as he sends you both crashing into the floor, pinning you beneath his weight. For the first time since he left the chasm he fully sobs. It’s not a pretty sight with tears and snot running down his face but he doesn’t care because he finally has you firmly in his grip again and all of the things that Not You could never give him are back. Your unique smell, the gentle pressure of your chest rising and falling beneath his, and the reassuring thrum of your heartbeat in his ears. 

“It’s ok Baby. I’m here. I’m right here,” you assure him and it just makes him sob harder.

But it’s good. It’s so incredibly good.

Because you’re right. It will be ok. It’ll take time for him to really believe it; for him to be able to close his eyes at night and truly believe that you won’t be gone when they open again; for him to seek out your touch and warmth without worrying you’ll vanish the moment he should make contact. 

But here you are. And he suspects he owes his second in command and the tengu warrior to thank for that considering they’re both just on the other side of the door. He’ll find a way to pay them back later (whether they want him to or not). 

For now he’ll just let himself sob against you, luxuriating in the feeling of the sweet comfort he thought he’d lost forever.

[no-droids]

Whenever You Want

Part Fourteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.2K

Warnings: Listen there is some dirty smut in this one yall okay like I was blushing when I wrote it, it has a very stark beginning and theres a pagebreak afterwards if you would prefer to skip over it. Smut includes oral sex (female receiving) rough sex, sensory deprivation, butt stuff (ass to mouth, anal fingering/penetration) so PLEASE LOOK OUT FOR IT PLEASE. Also there is jealous/possessive mando in this, season 1 Karga makes another appearance, and some angst/fluff towards the end

A/N: Nothing much today yoditos just love you all

***

Din said he’d meet you here.

You’re currently sitting across from Greef Karga in a cantina on Nevarro, a closed shield next to you and a blaster tucked into the back of your waistband, hidden underneath your shirt.  You’re barely even looking at him, though—your eyes are attached to the door by an invisible string, forcing your gaze back to it no matter how much it bounces around the room.

You don’t know where Din is, you haven’t seen him in hours.  But you do know that when he left, he was moving slower than you’re used to.  You don’t think anyone else would notice, but you sure did.  Not that he was obvious about it—you only picked up on very subtle hints.  Leaning up against things just a bit more than he usually does.  Taking slightly longer exiting the ramp of the Crest than his normal strides would carry him.

He didn’t say what he was going to do—just that he needed to find someone before meeting with Karga, and you accepted it.  But truthfully, you didn’t want to.  You were worried about him—still are, actually.  But for all intents and purposes, he was speaking and acting like himself, showing no real signs of exhaustion other than the smallest instances you described before, so you didn’t really have a leg to stand on.  He’s been through way worse, and you know it.  You just… find yourself worrying about him so much more than you used to, and you need to learn how to gain some control over that part of you.

The kid was still passed out from healing him and you remember Din carefully setting four pucks down in the sleeping baby’s sphere and giving his ears a gentle rub between leather fingers.  He turned back to you and told you to meet him at the cantina in three hours, but if it ended up taking him too long for any reason, to try your best to see if Karga will let you exchange on his behalf.

Admittedly, he didn’t sound too confident about it—the instructions were delivered with a tone that implied a doubtful, just-in-case scenario he wasn’t foreseeing happening.  Or maybe he just doubted the likelihood of Karga agreeing to do business with you, you’re not entirely sure.  All you know is that when he left, you were almost certain he wouldn’t be late, but you also took the time to grab the smallest blaster from his armory before heading out just in case.

Yet—here you are, three and a half hours later, eyes flicking between the door and Karga as you attempt to keep up polite conversation.  After turning down his offer of alcohol for the fifth time and still not seeing any glimpse of beskar coming to your rescue, you figure this may be as good a time as any to start the exchange.

During an extended break in the small talk, you slowly reach over to the corner of your booth and press a button on the face of the kid’s shield.  It hisses open and you completely miss the way Karga’s hand raises while three of his guards automatically reach for their hips.  The little green monster is still snoozing comfortably while you pull out the four glowing pucks Din left you and set them on the table one by one.

They scrape along the top of it as you slowly push them over to him, before sitting back in the booth and clearing your throat, flicking your eyes between Karga and his guards.  To you, nobody appears to have moved, so you muster a polite smile at him.

Karga smiles back, but makes no move to gather or inspect the offerings in front of him.

“Um…” you say after a moment, suddenly feeling your heart start to beat a little faster.  “Mando… Mando gave me permission to exchange on his behalf.”

“I believe you,” he drawls out in response, but the pucks still sit untouched in front of him as he leans back in the booth and studies you.  “Mando has always had a… let’s say, a frustrating penchant for disregarding the pillars of our code.  My apologies, young lady, but I’m afraid that I cannot accept these from you.”

Your voice comes out quieter than you’d like it to sound.  “Why not?”

“It is… unlawful,” he answers after a moment.  “Our organization operates under strict rules.”

Does it?  You blink.  No, it doesn’t.  You’re nothing to the Guild and you’ve sat next to Din quite a few times while Karga talked, listening to him drunkenly boast about return rates and out members by name.  You’re not sure why he’s barring you like this, but you’re also not self-assured enough to put practically any spine into it whatsoever.  “I’m… afraid I don’t understand.”

“I cannot legally do guild business with individuals not recognized as members in an official capacity,” he sighs, sounding grave and almost apologetic about it, but you don’t know him well enough to know if he’s a good actor or not.  “There’s nothing I can do for you besides provide you with my company, not until Mando decides to show.”

Well now that doesn’t make any sense, and you’re starting to worry that for some reason or another, he isn’t going to show.  Though it was incredibly well concealed, you’re well aware that Din was still lingering in the final recovery stages when he left the Crest earlier and all you have to go on is his word that he’d be here.  Something could’ve happened.  Something could be happening right now, you need to push.

“People pick up bounties for extra credits all the time,” you mumble, still way too fucking quiet about it.  Maker, you’re not even sure if he could hear that over the sound of the cantina.  Speak up, speak up.

“Yes, but those quarry are listed on the New Republic’s most wanted database,” Karga acknowledges diplomatically, educating more than he is arguing, before uncorking the bottle of glowing blue alcohol in front of him and beginning to pour himself another shot.  “They’re fodder.  Up for grabs—names, last known locations, and biometrics published for the entire galaxy to read.”  He tilts his head down at the four metal pucks on the table without removing his gaze from the gradually filling glass.  “Those pucks are different, they’re commissions.  Tied specifically to Guild contracts.”  Karga clunks the bottle back down again and corks it, pinning you with a stare.  “For all I know, you could’ve murdered a member of our ranks and come to collect payment for his bounties.  Can’t have that.”

Your blood suddenly turns to ice at the implication, eyes wide and your heartbeat rocketing as you look from Karga to the three guards casually stationed behind him.  “You—You think I murdered Mando?”

“No,” he says, easily and in the very same breath, before throwing the shot back and wiping his mouth with a grimace.  “Not sure I’d care too much if you did.  It’s not my rule, but I am required to follow it or risk losing my position in the Guild.”

Shit.  Shit.  What do you do?

You’re blank, left quiet and feeling increasingly unsure of how to proceed.  Karga, however, seems completely unbothered and even appears to be enjoying himself and your company.  He gives you another smile, this one a lot friendlier and more genuine than the one earlier, before setting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.

“Look, I want to help you,” he admits, keeping his tone light, “but my hands are tied.  Just relax and share a drink with me until he gets here, it’s not a problem.”

Fuck, you don’t like this, and a quick look around brings another reminder of Din’s continued absence.  Your chest feels tight, the anxiety starting to compound and make you jumpy.  It’s been too long—it’s been at least forty minutes or so of waiting by now and something just feels wrong about this.  Not having him next to you feels wrong enough on its own, but when he specifically told you he’d be here?

You clench your jaw and try to work up your nerve.  Karga is a nice guy, right?  He knows you by name, he knows who you are to Mando.  And while you never really thought about the bounty hunter’s omnipresent protection as being anything other than metaphorical, you suddenly realize that… it might be literal, too.  How much sway do you actually have here, you wonder?  You’re not stupid, you’re not going to try anything stupid, but maybe just another question won’t hurt?

“Well, um… how do you become a member, then?”  You ask him, and you watch as he leans back in the booth, raising both eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?”  He asks, though there’s a genuine amusement in his voice.  Stunned that you’d even say the words aloud.

“I have four bodies,” you tell him shortly.  You’re still quiet about it, but his thoroughly entertained astonishment is beginning to rub you the wrong way.  You don’t want to be part of the Guild, you don’t want to be here, you’re doing this out of growing necessity.  “One of which I dragged through a blizzard on Hoth by its ankles and put into carbonite myself, so please just tell me what I have to do to get you to take them.”

“I can’t,” he repeats, shaking his head like you’re just not getting it.  “New members are only accepted if they bring in an S-level criminal from the database or if they complete a commission that was granted to them by someone of my station—neither of which apply to you.  If you cannot present me with any sort of reasonable argument for which they could, then I’m afraid this is not a favor I can swing.”

“I was sitting right here,” you return, suddenly finding your voice.  If Karga wants an argument from you to get this to happen, then you’ll do it.  You just need to finish this exchange, go back to the Crest, and scan around for Din’s signal.  “When you first gave the pucks to Mando, I sat right here and you pushed them over to this side of the table—I was present for the commission and now I’m here to complete it.”

He shakes his head.  “But I didn’t give them to you, I gave them to Mando—”

“Yes, but you only wanted to give him three,” you immediately point out.  “The last one, the one I told you I put into carbonite—you said you threw it in because you liked me, it could’ve been for me.”

Karga suddenly stops and blinks at you for a few seconds, and you bite your lip, wondering if the logic will hold.  It’s flimsy as fuck and you know he could very easily rip it apart if he wanted to.  It could’ve been for you but it wasn’t, he gave it to Mando.  You also purposefully leave out the fact that you’re also the reason Mando only gave him three bodies in the first place; your only goal here is to complete this transaction as quickly as possible and leave.  You don’t like the fact that it’s taking Din so long, and you also don’t like the fact that Karga seems so keen on keeping you here with him, no matter how many reassurances he provides.  He said he wants to help you?  This can be his chance to prove it.

After a few extended moments of consideration, Karga finally shrugs like he really couldn’t care less before reaching across the table for the pucks and beginning to stack them in his palm.

“What is your last name?”  He asks, turning behind him to gesture for one of his men with a jerk of his head.  The bodyguard exits the cantina without another word and your eyes flick back to Karga’s.

“Why does it matter?”  You ask uncertainly, watching another guard approach with a holopad as he shrugs once more.

“It doesn’t, but we need something for our records,” Karga explains, grabbing the device as it’s tapped against his shoulder without removing his gaze from yours.  “I can just use Doe if you don’t feel like sharing—most of our members tend to prefer anonymity, including your companion.”

Your eyebrows furrow even as your heart continues to pound, wondering how they can afford to be so lax about some things but take others so seriously.  “You have him down as John Doe?”

“First name Man,” Karga grunts in response, finally breaking eye contact to begin navigating through pages on the holopad.

“Ah,” you say shortly, knowing you’d probably find the joke funny in other circumstances.  You’re not out of the trenches yet, you still feel the worry tugging hard at your chest.

“Very well,” Karga announces with a sigh, pocketing the pucks in his leather overcoat and then handing the holopad back to one of the men flanking him after a moment.  “Someone is collecting the carbonite plaques from your vessel as we speak.”

You give him a nod, taking a deep breath that you hope is slow and subtle enough to not give your anxiety away.  He helped you out, you’re halfway through this.  Now comes the exchange.  Now it’s his turn to give you the credits and four more pucks, that’s how this should go.

Only, Karga leans back in his seat and cocks his head at you.  “Unfortunately, I believe we have found ourselves in the midst of yet another predicament.”

Your heart continues to slam, praying you haven’t somehow majorly fucked things up by getting this far.  Din still isn’t here, why is he so fucking late?  He nearly froze to death and you handled a dead body just to make this meeting on time, where the fuck is he?

You raise an eyebrow at him, willing the building panic not to show on your face.  “Have we?”

“You’re lucky credits are attached to commissions instead of rank within the Guild,” he prefaces, pulling out a large handful of them to begin counting, and your eyes flick around the cantina while you know he isn’t looking, “or else you’d be getting about half of what I’d normally give him.”

Heart galloping when you still don’t see any sign of him, you just decide to keep extra quiet as you watch Karga divvy out a sizable stack of credits, hoping your prolonged silence will protect you somehow.

“The question now becomes…” he lifts an eyebrow at you while sliding them across the table to you, “how many pucks do I give you in return, hm?”

Fuck, you don’t like this, you’re trying to make it crystal fucking clear that your intentions do not extend beyond the perimeter of this table.  There’s no you to be found in this deal, you’re just an emergency proxy in Din’s absence and you only inserted yourself in the situation to accomplish that task.  “I told you I’m only here to exchange on Mando’s behalf, that’s it.”

“Be that as it may…”  Karga glances around the cantina like he’s thinking extra hard about it.  This is a made-up problem, you both know there’s no predicament here.  He knows you didn’t kill Mando, he knows there’s no real reason to be giving you such a hard time about this, and you clench your jaw as he still seems to take his time considering it.  “Tell you what, young lady,” he finally turns back to you.  “Do me the honor of sharing one sip of this fine spotchka with me and I’ll give you four pucks to pass along to Mando.”

Okay.  Okay, you can do that, if he really cares that much.  Karga gestures for the closest droid to come by with a glass for you, but you just grab the bottle in front of him and uncork it without thinking too much, balancing the glowing blue liquid with two hands and diligently taking a small sip of it before setting it down again.  Appearing satisfied with your demonstration of upholding your end of the bargain, Karga grins and reaches into another pocket.

“Four for Mando,” he pushes four pucks across the table, “same rate and return as last time, as promised.”  You nearly deflate in relief as you quickly gather them up and begin dropping them into the snoozing baby’s shield along with the credits, but then Karga reaches back and pulls out another puck, pushing it over to you.  “And one for you.”

You blink at him, frozen in place.

“Lowest level, lowest pay.  Not even a criminal by New Republic standards, just a missing person,” he goes on to say, but then quite suddenly… 

Quite suddenly you’re absolutely fucking horrified.

You don’t want it.  Everything inside you surges up to scream that you do not want that puck.  It’s a waste of time, even if it’s an extra job—it’s too much trouble, too much fuel for such a small reward.  You already know good and well that Din won’t want to bother, getting this extra puck would be considered a detriment to him.

“What if I don’t want it?”  You ask, sounding nervous and vaguely out of breath as you look down at it.

Karga scoffs.  “Of course you don’t.  Nobody wants these, why do you think I’m trying so hard to pawn one off on you?”

Shit.  This is not at all how you expected any of this would go.  You know he’s not really asking, even if his tone and continued courtesy implies it’s only a request.  There’s an expectation attached to this, and it appears you take too long pondering an offer that isn’t actually voluntary.  Karga stares at you and your clear apprehension for just a few seconds more, before finally giving you an ultimatum.  “You said you’re here on his behalf.  You either take all five pucks now or Mando only gets three next time, your choice.”

Oh.  Oh, no.  This is a lose-lose; three pucks means more fuel and less credits, five pucks means more fuel and less credits.  It’s not like you have any real bargaining power here—almost everything he’s done for you today has been a favor of some sort and you’re well aware that things can always get worse.

Still, you take a deep breath and try your best to throw around whatever weight you have left in one final agreement.

“Give me your word you’ll go back to giving him four from now on, no more hassling or hard time constraints and we’ll take it just this once,” you tell him, trying to conjure and put power behind your words even though you’re unsure if they’ll stick.

“Deal,” Karga readily agrees with a smile, reaching his hand across the table.  You have no choice but to meet him in the middle and clasp it, unable to feel anywhere close to good about your performance here.  It was clunky and insecure and even though you just barely succeeded in making the exchange overall, you’re massively disappointed in the specifics.

But then Karga’s eyes quickly flick over your shoulder.

“Ah, Mando!”  He suddenly calls out, and your hand nearly snatches away from his while your body goes rigid.

Oh, this isn’t good, this is not good.  Well, it’s good that he’s here but it also really fucking isn’t.  You don’t even turn your head; you sit completely straight and still while the cantina falls to a hush and heavy footsteps begin to approach behind you.  You fucked up—you fucked up, you didn’t wait long enough and you feel the sharp regret instantly twist in your stomach.  He said he’d be here, why didn’t you trust him?  Your anxiety and stress compounded and spurned you to act too quickly, you made the deal a few fucking seconds before he showed up.

And, as Din eventually comes into your peripheral, taking his time leaning his rifle up against the table, you immediately realize that you should not have worried.  Recovery isn’t even a word in his vocabulary right now—he’s more intimidating than he’s ever been, more powerful and certain and dangerous while he lowers himself into the seat next to you than he’s ever felt to you before.  Everything is so quiet now that he’s here; you feel like even just swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat turns into an audible gulp.  The man sitting across from you may own this cantina and every material good under its roof, but the one sitting by your side feels like he steals the literal air from the room just by walking inside it.

Yet, in spite of the daunting presence of the Mandalorian, Karga beams and tips his glass at him.  “I believe you’ve arrived just in time for your favorite part of the conversation, friend.  The farewells.”

You stare wide-eyed down at the table as Din leans back into the booth and very slowly extends his arm behind your shoulders, saying nothing at all to him.

The testosterone is radiating from him to the point of near suffocation, you can taste the alpha in the air.  Your heart slams in your chest at the unspoken claim he just made with a subtle movement, and though you’ve never been one for masculine displays, this one weirdly feels… good right now.  You know it’s primitive and crude and you’re not a piece of meat to be fought over, but it doesn’t feel like that at all.  It’s the immediate feeling of security that serves to heat your cheeks, the fact that you’ve been a nervous mess trying to be extra brave this whole interaction and then suddenly you have the backup of an entire army contained within one single suit of armor next to you.

If you weren’t internally panicking at how badly you screwed this shit up, you’d probably be going fucking feral for him right now.

Karga says your name and your gaze snaps to his, feeling like you can’t breathe.  “My associate has collected the plaques, nothing keeps you here any longer.  It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

Still, nobody at the table moves.

After a moment, you carefully glance up and to the side at the sharp, metallic profile of his helmet.  Maker, you can’t explain it—it’s like you feel terrified but not really for yourself, if that makes sense.  You’re upset with yourself for not having enough trust in his word, absolutely, but something in Din’s demeanor tells you that he’s going to be considerably less understanding of how Karga handled this situation than the way you did.

The helmet slowly turns down to look at you, and you bite your lip while carefully placing your hand on his thigh brace under the table, letting him feel your fingers brush against the bend of his knee.

He turns back to Karga after a few seconds, still not saying a single word, until eventually Din’s arm is lifted from behind your shoulders and you feel his leather fingers gently clasp your hand, before he starts to rise from the booth and pull you along next to him.  You both stand, and he silently presses a button on his vambrace without dropping your grip, urging the kid’s shield to follow along behind him.

“Um, goodbye,” you just barely remember to tell Karga as Din begins leading you away, apparently not waiting for the polite farewells he arrived in time for.

“Wait!”  A voice calls out just before you can make your exit, and Din pauses just in time for Karga to extend that damned fifth puck out for you to grab.  Right in fucking front of him.  “Can’t forget this!”

Fuck.  Great.  Thanks.

Blood rushes to your face while you go to reach for it, taking the puck and then placing it in the open shield along with four others in a way that you hope is casual but you know isn’t.  You close the lid on it and then squeeze Din’s hand slightly, but he stays rooted to the spot for a few more seconds, having watched the entire exchange play out.  Though you obviously wouldn’t be able to read his facial expressions even if you could lift your head to look up at him, you can’t will yourself to do so right now.  You’re too disappointed in yourself and nervous—you just stand there silently as he looks back at Karga, staring at your feet and praying he doesn’t do anything brash.

After too many moments of uncertainty, you squeeze his hand again and slowly begin to pull on it.  Without needing much pressure at all, he goes where you go, and you end up being the one to lead Din out of the cantina by the hand still tangled with yours.

*** 

The walk back to the Crest lasts an eternity.

Neither one of you say anything at all to each other the entire way there, and you know he’s not mad at you yet, but you’re worried.  You feel incredibly self-critical right now and it’s really not helping that he seems even quieter and more wound up than usual.  You don’t know if it’s because he already figured out that you just handed him extra work or if it’s because whatever made him late to the cantina also altered his mood, hit a reset button and reminded him of the way he used to be, the armor he’s wearing.  Was there a confrontation, you wonder?  Is he okay?  He seems like he’s… extra Mandalorian right now, there’s not really a better way to describe it.

He doesn’t drop your hand, though.  As you pass through the markets and shanty huts lining the streets, Din holds onto you.  Shoulders tense and strides heavy, but his fingers stay tangled in yours.

Regardless, you keep your mouth shut and eventually the Crest comes into view.  The ramp drops to the ground and the three of you make your way up, and you have enough foresight to carefully drop Din’s hand and lead the baby’s shield over to the unused cot built into the hull walls, closing him in a safe quiet place to sleep and continue building up his strength again.

You turn around to see Din press another button on his vambrace.  He stays with his back to you as the ramp slowly closes, but as soon as it latches up against the hull and locks into place, he nearly whips around and suddenly he’s right in front of you, gloves cupping your face.

“What happened?”  He asks sharply, the helmet looking you up and down.  “Are you alright?  Why did you look so scared?”

You reach up to rest your hands on his, blinking up at him and not knowing what to say.  How are you going to tell him?  He’s gotta waste extra fuel and time on a bullshit quarry because of you, what are you going to say?  You don’t even know if it’s last known location is nearby; he might have to fly to some remote, desolate corner of the galaxy just for a handful of credits because you couldn’t wait a fucking hour for him.

“I, uh…  I-I’m sorry, I just…”  But it’s nearly impossible to form a coherent thought when he’s this close to you and sounding fucking sincere, genuinely concerned about you while you’re stuck worrying about how to break the bad news to him.  “Oh, stars, um…”

“Did Karga fuck with you?”  He asks in that same sharp tone when you don’t finish your thought, but you’re so absorbed in your own conflict that you barely even hear him.  “Because I can go back right now, the cantina is just—”

“Okay wait, please—” You suddenly speak up, “before I tell you, just… please keep in mind that I did save your life two days ago, so…”

“Sweet girl,” Din rumbles slowly, a subtle warning for you to hurry up and spit it out.  His fingers tighten just slightly on your cheeks, still so gentle but needing you to communicate with him right now.

Tell him, you just need to tell him.  If he gets mad, then he gets mad, but at least he’ll know at that point and you won’t just be springing it on him out of nowhere.

“I fucked up,” you breathe out, eyebrows pulling up in the middle as you tighten your own grip on his hands.  “I’m so sorry, I fucked up and you were late and I got nervous and I didn’t wait long enough and I tried to make the exchange like you asked me to but then I had to take a fifth puck and I didn’t want to but Karga threatened to short change you next time around unless I agreed to take an extra one for the lowest pay just this once and I didn’t have any bargaining power and you showed up right after I agreed to the deal and I’m so so sorry—”

You cut yourself off with your own ragged gasp, not having paused once to breathe throughout the entire thing while your expression twisted up with regret more and more the longer he allowed you to speak.

Din stands there in front of you and doesn’t move, hands still attached to your face.

“Okay,” he eventually tells you.  Stunted words, like he’s trying extra hard to find them when yours just fell out of your mouth in a complete mess.  “It’s okay.  You did… good.”

The silence is tense and you’re becoming more and more anxious the longer he takes to speak.  He’s lying for your benefit, he must be.  When he drops his hands from your face and takes a full step back, you take the gesture as symbolic and nearly launch into panic.

“Maker, I’m so sorry I didn’t wait for—”  You start to say, but Din cuts you off.

“Did he make you…”  His back suddenly goes a little straighter, voice finding a quiet edge through the modulator as his fingers subtly twitch at his sides, “…Uncomfortable?”

You pull back at the sudden change in subject and furrow your eyebrows.

“Who, Karga?”  You have to think about it.  Did he make you uncomfortable, or were you just uncomfortable already?  You might’ve just been scared because you were making it scarier than it really was, you can admit that’s a valid possibility.  “Um… no?  I don’t know, not… not really, I don’t think.”

“No?”  He asks, taking a small step forward.  “You don’t know?  Or not really… you don’t think?”

You know you can only see the blade of his visor, but something makes you feel like you’re looking right in his eyes.  You even go back and forth between where you’re pretty confident each one is, trying to read his intentions right now.  It’s like he’s purposefully trying to keep space between you even though he looks like he wants to move closer, fisting his hands at his sides when he looks like he wants to touch you.

“No, he just… lowballed me towards the end of it and I got intimidated, but I’m also not…”  Your expression narrows in concentration while you try to find the words to explain yourself, wanting to be as honest as possible with him.  “I don’t know, I’m not like you.  I’m not that strong, but I’m trying to get better.  I think he was probably just being normal.  He did offer me alcohol a bunch, but I’m pretty sure he also did that last time, so—”

“And I didn’t like it the last time he did it,” Din says quietly, taking another small step forward.

You blink up at him, completely dumb.  This is what’s bothering him?  Is he really not upset with you at all for giving him more work?  It’s like the major fuckup on your behalf just went in one side of the helmet and out the other, he barely even acknowledged it other than the role Karga played.  He said it’s okay and you did good, which are like… five of the most common words in Galactic Basic, a Wookiee could probably find a way to say them.  How are you supposed to take that?  Were you just overthinking this whole thing from the very beginning?  You know anxiety tends to be irrational by definition, but has none of your panic from the past hour been justified whatsoever?

“Why were you so late?”  You ask him, but it’s not accusatory in the slightest.  It’s… concerned, worried about his well-being without having a real reason.  He’s clearly more than fine right now, he’s like a hurricane enclosed in metal and holding still in front of you.  Too much potential energy just waiting for a reason to be released, too much tension held tight and ready to snap.

“I’m sorry.”  He quickly reaches out to grab your hand and squeeze it, before dropping it just as quickly.  Fucking lightning quick, you’ll never understand how he can be so damn quick with all that extra weight strapped to him.  “It took longer than I thought it would and she’s not really someone you can rush.”  His response, ironically, feels very rushed, like he’s trying to address the tangent but also keep things on track, but something in the answer he gives catches your direct attention.  “Did he flirt with you?”

“Who is she and what can’t be rushed?”  You blurt at the same time, not even taking a split second to think about it.

Din stops short at the blunt question, staring at you in a silence that feels like it’s vaguely taken aback.

After a few moments of that… strangeness, of the two of you realizing that you’re both feeling slightly possessive over each other for absolutely no reason whatsoever, you start to feel… warm.  In another weirdly stupid, primitive way.  You know that letting those kinds of thoughts have their day in a relationship isn’t a good thing, but you can’t explain it.  Some deep-seated, prehistoric instinct inside you just goes fucking nuts whenever he gets in either provider or protector mode.  Now you understand exactly why he wanted to get you alone after you admitted to being jealous once before.  You totally fucking get it, you’re right there with him right now.  He hasn’t said anything, but you think he feels it, too.

“She makes things,” Din finally answers you, careful with his words and somehow managing to address your question while also sidestepping it, leaving you with only the smallest bit of information to go off of.  “Did he flirt with you?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly.  “Maybe.  He could’ve just been trying to be friendly.  What did she make for you?”

“She made it for you,” he responds, again not really answering the question but continuing to juggle two separate conversations for your benefit.  “Did he scare you?”

“For me?”  You ask, eyebrows shooting upwards.  Provider, that stupid cavewoman DNA whispers to your lower body, making your voice go a little breathless.  “You asked her to make something for me?”

“Did he scare you?”  Din repeats sternly, grabbing your hand and giving it a firm squeeze.  “Because I can go back, I swear—”

Protector, it whispers this time, and your knees nearly buckle.

“Everything is scary when I don’t know where you are,” you admit to him, knowing it’s the truth regardless of how self-deprecating it sounds.  The only times you’ve ever truly been brave was because of him or the kid.  Stabbing a Corellian and then immediately flying the Crest out to him afterwards, walking through a pitch black forest believing a dangerous criminal was hiding in it, dragging a dead body through snow and shoving it into carbonite, standing up for yourself and pushing a deal through when odds were stacked against you.  Though it’s nothing to him, it’s nothing, it’s leaps for you.  You’re slowly learning to find a backbone, and he’s the one inspiring it.

Din holds there for a moment, unmoving with his hand still clutching yours.  You can’t get a read on him but you know how you feel right now.  Achy.  Hot.  Needy.  Wanting him to come closer.

“Will you do something for me?”  He asks you after a prolonged silence.  His voice is quiet, but… incredibly restrained.  Controlled chaos—his body is rigid and he’s flexing muscles that aren’t necessary for just standing, feeling like a sprinter holding still on the starting blocks.

“Of course,” you breathe out.

Din lets go of your hand and tilts his helmet over at the corner of the hull behind you.  “Go turn around and face that wall.”

You freeze, immediately recognizing the undertone in his voice.  Heat ladles deep into the pit of your tummy, sends warmth pooling downwards.  He wants to do this here?  Right now?

“We’re—” you look around the enclosed hull, “Mando, we’re not in hyperspace, we haven’t even left the surface yet…”

He looks around too, taking a second to blankly take in his stagnant surroundings like he had absolutely fucking no idea, before turning back to you and not saying a word.  Maker, everything below your waist is already stirring, twisting hot and deep inside, but you’re trying to be the voice of reason for a second.

“What if somebody hears us?”  You whisper, and Din cocks his head to the other side.

“I can help you stay quiet,” he murmurs, and… fuck.  You don’t know what it means, but you immediately imagine his hand held tight over your mouth while he takes some of this stress out on you and you already feel yourself wilting at the thought.  Okay.

“Okay,” you breathe without needing anything else at all, before spinning around and standing exactly where he told you to.  It’s just a corner near the back of the hull, nothing else here to look at besides two metal panels meeting at a right angle, but that’s admittedly what makes your heart start beating quicker.  You can’t see him come up behind you but you can feel it.  Slow, measured, but so restrained.

But then he stops almost immediately, before the back of your shirt is suddenly being yanked upwards and you remember at the very last second.

Din carefully grips his blaster and then eases it out of your waistband, the metal sliding warm along your skin from pressing against it for so long.  You never told him you took it with you, and he’s so fucking quiet behind you.  You have no idea how he’s reacting to that piece of information you originally didn’t think twice about.

“Do you like carrying my gun around?”  Din’s voice murmurs soft through the modulator to you, but then the blaster is tossed uselessly to the side, skittering loudly across the floor of the hull.

“Yes,” you reply, beginning to shyly turn your head back to look at him, hoping to gauge his response.

“Don’t turn around,” he quickly interrupts you, pushing your shoulder back into position and keeping you facing the corner.  You blink at the metal walls in a bit of a daze but follow instructions regardless, feeling your heart pound at the sudden display of dominance from him.  He has a very valid reason for it and you don’t realize what it is until a few seconds later, but even if he didn’t and he was just telling you what to do for the fun of it… you’d still like it.

But then his helmet is carefully being lowered over your head and you shudder as your vision is replaced with a familiar black abyss.  Fuck, his helmet, why does he like it so much when you wear this?  Admittedly, you don’t have much time to contemplate—as soon as it’s fitted and secure, he spins you around and you have to just do your best to maintain your balance, not having any visual to help.

“Can you hear me?”  Din asks, and your clothes start to be ripped off of you.  Your shoulders tip sideways with how quick he is about it, feeling him pull the fabric off and hearing the soft sound it makes landing on the floor.

“Yes,” you tell him, but he doesn’t respond, continuing to strip you completely naked in the hull.  Once your upper body is bare and he’s yanking your pants and underwear down your legs, you try saying it again as you step out of them, louder for him this time.

“I can’t hear you,” his voice grunts after a moment.  You know he’s in front of you but you can’t really tell where, now that he’s not touching you.  “Scream.”

You take a second, not having hard evidence anymore but still very well aware that you’re parked close to a marketplace on Nevarro and multiple people are nearby while you’re wearing his helmet.  This is dangerous for him, and not sure if you should, but then an arm is wrapping around your back and a large leather palm rests directly over your chest.  Din repeats his last word very slowly and clearly for you, waiting to feel it under his hands.

Your sternum lifts while it rises with your deep breath and then collapses as you diligently yell as loud as you can into the helmet, feeling like you might deafen yourself with the trapped sound.

“Good,” he growls, suddenly spinning you around and pushing you back into the metal paneling.  “I can’t hear you, be as loud as you need.  Hit me or something, put up a fight if you want me to stop, alright?”

Arousal rockets through you and you let out a moan already, taking advantage of the noise suppression and beyond turned on at this point.  You feel like you’re buzzing with it, lit up with excitement and wondering with bated breath what he’s planning to do to you.

“Alright?”  Comes his voice from behind you once more, and you quickly jerk the heavy helmet in a nod for him.  You can put up a fight and you know he’ll stop, you don’t have any problem with that and the fact that he specifically made sure to wait until he knew you understood him makes you start to pant inside the hollow beskar.

But then you feel him flick a small switch at the base of the helmet and then everything abruptly cuts out and goes dead silent.

Nothing.  Nothing.  You’re standing in a pitch black room where no other sound exists besides your own labored breathing.  Just like the waterfall on Naboo, but you can’t speak this time.  Temporarily making you blind, deaf, and putting a proverbial gag over your mouth all with one powerful piece of armor.

You shudder and he kicks your legs apart before you can do much else, yanking your hips back while you just try your best to cling to the wall for stability.  You don’t know what he’s going to do, you’re completely isolated in here and the only way you can even tell he dropped to his knees is the hot glide of his tongue through your pussy from behind.

Oh fuck—you arch into position as best you can while hands wrap around your ankles to pull them apart, trying to make the angle better.  His tongue licks softly over your clit and each time is like an electric shock jolting through your body, making you twitch back and up for him, stretching and begging him to do it again.  You can’t see anything right now so your mind readily imagines the visuals instead, providing you with a third party view.  Din, fully clothed and face shielded by your thighs, eating you out from behind while you brace yourself against the wall, completely naked and at his mercy, head tilted down from the weight of his helmet and living for the moments he decides to drag his tongue across your clit.

Without warning, a sudden burst of sensation ripples along your backside and causes you to lift the beskar in surprise, but without being able to hear anything, it takes you a second to figure out that he just smacked your ass.  The realization comes more or less at the exact time he decides to flatten his tongue and follow the curve of you back and up.

You gasp into the pitch black and there’s a moment where you just hold utterly still for him, experiencing and processing the sensation for the very first time.  His mouth is soft and warm as he tastes you here, his fingers digging into the swell of your cheeks to spread you open.  You’re glad your face is hidden so he can’t see the shock in your expression, the way your mouth drops and your eyes close as you let him explore you this way.

His gloved hands leave you for just a moment while he continues gliding his tongue against you, along every single bit of skin he can reach, and then you feel a bare hand reach up between your legs and begin to rub slow circles around your clit.  His other arm pushes against your lower back and you’re forced into the corner even more, your naked breasts pressing hard against cool metal and feeling his hot mouth and strong fingers work you closer to the edge from behind.

You’re panting into the helmet, your hips arching back to feel that stimulation on your clit better, and as his fingers move over it slow and strong, you feel a soft vibration against your skin and you realize he’s moaning into you.  The knowledge sparks a different kind of heat through you and makes you suddenly go still and tense right here.  If he stays just like this for even just a few more seconds, you’re going to cum.

“Din, I’m gonna cum,” your voice warbles inside the enclosed steel—just as his touch decides to abandon your body.  You groan loudly in distress, completely alone without his hands or mouth on you anymore, but all he likely hears is the silence of the hull and the way your palm smacks against the wall with it.  You were so close, everything feels like it’s pulled up so tight and painful and it hurts—

A hand clutches your hip and then a thick cock is suddenly pushing up against your soaking wet entrance, going to alleviate that twisting discomfort.  Your eyes roll back and your whole body goes limp as he slowly eases forward and breaks you open, fitting himself deep inside where you love to feel him most.  Your hands claw down the walls with a swell of bliss as he pulls out and then starts thrusting—and fuck, you love this.  You love the way he’s trapping you up against the corner and making you see stars at the same time, the way he’s supporting your weight but crushing down into you, too.  It makes you go boneless and want to riot simultaneously, groaning loud into the quiet abyss as he gives you what you both desperately needed.

One of his hands sinks down between your legs to play with your clit again, while a slick finger presses up against your ass and you gasp as he slowly penetrates you there, too.  Din’s hips work steady and powerful behind you, pushing you into the wall with every desperate thrust, using the arm shoved between your legs to support you as well as stimulate, and you just feel yourself move into a different place.  You don’t have a name for it but it feels like hyperspace.  Silence so loud it feels suppressing, faster than anything light can touch, nowhere and everywhere, hurtling towards something you can’t see but know lies in the distance.  You can tell he’s still fucking the tension out of his body, you can feel him working another wet finger inside you and stretching the virgin muscles back there, but every sensation begins to slowly blur together in a wicked uprising of ecstasy.

You don’t know where you are anymore, just that his fingers keep rubbing your clit and you think he's trying to ease a third into you when your destination abruptly arrives.

You nearly collapse when you cum, contracting so hard around his cock and fingers that you cry out unexpectedly—and because of the helmet, you think it’s just as unexpected for him.  He stops moving—everything stops moving besides you.  Your hips stutter backwards into his stationary body, dragging your clit back and forth against the tips of his unmoving fingers and fucking him as best you can.  It shatters white hot and goes straight through to your soul, wringing pleasure and wetness between your legs in waves.

Your knees are knocking against each other when Din pulls out, his cock still deliciously hard and now soaking wet with your cum, and then they just suddenly decide to give up without warning.  You don’t fall necessarily, but you do slowly slide down the wall like a slug and Din follows you to the floor instead of holding you up any longer.  His sternum moves quick and heavy against your back as he breathes and then suddenly the same switch at the base of his helmet is flicked, and sound bursts into existence all at once.

He’s panting.  Harsh breaths behind you that match the rapid pace of his chest, and the ambient noise of the rest of the hull.

“Can you hear me?”  He gasps, sounding fucking wrecked, and you nod the helmet against the wall while gravity and exhaustion and his beskar chestplate squishes you into it.  “P-Put up a fight if you want me t-to stop, p-please—” he rasps out, almost the entire thing air and so close to cumming, and then his knees lift just slightly and the blunt head of his cock presses against your other entrance.

And, if you wanted, you absolutely could.  He’s got you boxed into the corner but he’s not constricting your movements, he’s given you every ability to struggle.  You could easily throw an elbow back against his side, push against the wall to shove him away, smack at his arms or even just flail against his body in panic—you could do one or all of those things to signal him to stop and you know he’d do it immediately, he’s asking you to.  You could struggle.  If you wanted.

Instead, you just grab hold of the beskar strapped to his thigh and drop the helmet to your chest, nearly vibrating with the thrill and preparing yourself for it.  You know he’s gotta be inches away from orgasm, you know from the tone of his voice that he’s right there on the edge and it’s not like it’s going to last a long time.  Thanks to him, you also feel like you’re just as slick and wet back there as you are between your legs, stretched open by his fingers while you came all over him.  You want nothing more than to give this to him, to let him be the only person in the universe that knows how you feel this way.

When you pointedly do not put up a fight and even go so far as to arch your lower back for him in presentation, Din curses and his fingers begin jerking back and forth over your sensitive clit once more.  It might normally be too much for you, but your body is sparking with lust and quickly acclimates to the stimulation, learning to burn and ache for it, too.  Fuck, it feels so good, you tense and melt into it at the same time, letting him ease you back up to that peak once more.

He pushes up against the tight ring of skin and you can’t fucking explain it—his fingers keep rubbing your clit and he’s slowly pushing into your ass and—

“I—I think I’m—” you suddenly lift the helmet to gasp out in surprise, forgetting he can’t hear you, “ngh—D-Din, I think I’m gonna c—”

He’s just barely able to breach the tight entrance and fit the head inside before he freezes—and even though everything happens consecutively, it’s all so rapid that it feels simultaneous.

Your hips could go forward, but they don’t.  Your body decides to send you backwards into him, pushing him inside nearly halfway all at once as your muscles lock down and just fucking strangle his cock.  Your piercing scream gets trapped in the silence of his helmet as you cum once more—painfully, madly and with every fucking part of you for him.  There’s maybe one or two mind shattering pulses of ecstasy before the rest of your body catches up and starts convulsing, and by then Din is already gasping and fumbling behind you, suddenly realizing what’s happening without hearing the sound of your ragged warnings and then ripping himself away just in time.

He punches out your name when he cums like you just fucking snapped him in half—his body hunches and the beskar digs hard into your back as warmth starts splattering along your skin.  You crumple while he shoves his hips up against your spine, riding and working the orgasm out of himself while yours just fucking obliterates you.  You think you whine his name—or a curse word or something, but it gets strained and your lungs lose air every time his powerful armored body humps you into the wall of his ship.

Finally he eases up and you just lay there and listen to the ringing in your ears.  Blissfully empty, still pulsing from cumming so hard and feeling like your bones just decided to stop existing and the rest of you was okay with it since you were already on the floor anyways.  You feel him shudder and twitch behind you, letting go of that last bit of tension until he too allows gravity to slouch his heavy torso over onto you.

You both stay like that for a while, until your eyes close and your everything below your waist goes numb.  Eventually you feel him shift and your head bobbles as the helmet is slowly removed, but a large palm cradles your chin to stop your face from slamming into the wall in exhaustion once it’s off.  You just continue to melt into the paneling like you’re nothing more than goo of a human being while he trades it back to its rightful place on his shoulders and tucks his cock back into his pants, before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you both up.  The floor and metal walls, once feeling like you and them were one, suddenly decide to disappear entirely as you’re hauled up into Din’s powerful arms.

He slowly carries your naked, fucked senseless body over to the fresher, and you squint your eyes open over his shoulder to see… he’s still got his rifle slung around his back while his cum is dripping down yours.  Not a single thing on him is out of place and you’re, well… a mess is a word that works.  Limp and doll-like, carried like your weight is practically nothing to him after years of having the densest armor known to the galaxy strapped to his body.

Setting you down is a mess, too.  At some point you think he just gives up and decides to return you to your humble floor abode with a patience and care unexpected from someone who just defiled you so thoroughly.  You hear the fresher door open and the faucet squeak, before he turns back around and crouches to your level.

“Stay here,” Din tells you lowly, his modulated voice coming gentle and warm through the sounds of water raining down against metal.  You don’t feel his touch directly, but your hair moves away from your face.  “I’ll be right back, okay—just stay here.”

Can do.  Easy.  He waits until you murmur a soft mhm to him before he leaves the tiny compartment, and then you soon hear his heavy footsteps ascending the ladder to the cockpit.

***

You don’t think you fall asleep, but the powering up of the Crest’s thrusters make you realize your eyes were closed.  Opening them barely qualifies as a squint though; you look around to see steam slowly filling the fresher, the water already running hot and welcoming in the small room.

You know you need to shower but you’re so fucking exhausted, you feel like you can’t even move your body.  You also know you can just do the same exact thing in there as you’re doing in here, you just need to muster up the energy necessary to get inside it and then fall back asleep.  He set you down in the small little space outside the shower door and then got everything set up for you, you can at least stand up and take a few steps.

Unfortunately, you might pick just about the worst time possible to plant your hands on the ground and work to struggle upright on all fours like a newborn animal.  The steady rise through Nevarro’s atmosphere pushes gravity down harder than you’re expecting—is he trying to fly quickly or are you just that dead-limbed?—and then of course, by the time you do manage to fight it and successfully get on two wobbly legs to hold yourself up, the subtle shift of the hyperdrive kicking in nearly knocks you back down again.  You stumble and grab the walls, bracing yourself against them and looking down at your knees in exasperation.  Come on, work.  Move forward.  Come on.

You’re glad he’s not here to witness this monstrosity, honestly.  Just opening the door and taking a few steps into the fresher is a feat—while you’re not in any pain and he didn’t leave any marks on you, you just feel… steamrolled.  Ran over by a truck.  Only having the strength to keep your feet beneath you as you finally move under the water and close the door behind you.

Oh, but this is wonderful.  This was such a good idea, he’s so fucking smart.  The shower falls warm and lovely against your body, wetting your hair and immediately heating you down to your bones.  You don’t move really at all—you kinda just stand there and slouch, closing your eyes against the spray and slowly breathing the mist into your lungs.  It feels so nice—not really restorative even though you like that word, it would imply the water provides you with any energy whatsoever.  It just feels like a comfort, a relief and sedative for your already wildly fatigued body.

You haven’t been in here for more than a minute or two when knuckles tap gently against the metal walls of the fresher, before the natural bass of Din’s unmodulated voice murmurs from somewhere beyond it.  “Hey.  Keep your eyes closed.”

How did he know?  You figured you’d be way ahead of him.  You’re standing but slumped over, wanting nothing more than to just say fuck gravity and pass out right here.  The walls are too cold to lean against now that you’re all toasty from the heat and steam, so you’re just unconsciously swaying on your feet, trying to balance the precedence of sleeping versus not falling over.  You don’t even comprehend the sudden flip of the light switch overhead beyond the fact that it makes it easier to snooze without being so bright behind your eyelids.

The door eventually opens at the very same time you realize you never answered him, but you just commit to the silence at this point.  It’s easy, you like it.  Soon you feel warm hands touch your shoulders, slowly spinning you around while you follow and hang your head, your neck not wanting to support it any longer, and then suddenly a bare chest is pressing up against you and powerful arms are wrapping around your body, and you can just lean all of your weight into him while your head rests right here on his shoulder.

He holds you without moving for a long time, keeping you just like this—your ear pressed against his skin while water rains hot and comfortable down your back.  Knowing you’re facing one of the walls, you crack your heavy lids just the slightest bit and finally notice the tiny compartment is dim and shrouded—the only light source is a single one coming from somewhere in the hull beyond the partially closed doorway.  It’s dark and quiet and you can barely see anything besides the metallic fresher walls and unfocused droplets chasing each other down Din’s naked skin.  Just you and him, flowing water with a sheet metal backdrop.

You think you spend an eternity like that and yet you still find yourself wanting another when he finally shifts, reaching over you to grab a bar of his generic soap but making sure to use the arm whose shoulder you’re not currently resting against.

It glides slow and hypnotic down your back, dragging up over your sides and then back down the curve of your spine.  He’s so sturdy and he doesn’t say a word while he does it, lathering it along your body and rubbing it into your skin.  His bar of soap, not yours.  They started out almost the same since you picked them up at the same vendor, but there’s just a slightly bolder and sharper scent to his that you recognize.  How the bar is far larger than yours because of how often he’s gone away.

Your eyes droop and you feel the water trail over your lips, dripping down your chin and pooling the dip of his collarbone.  The only other time you two shared this fresher was terrifying and he’s rewriting the memories right now, whether consciously or not.  Hot water, not freezing cold.  Standing upright and supporting you.  Heart beating strong under your ear, taking care of you this time until you can care for yourself.

You… you just worry so much more now, it’s becoming an issue.  You didn’t realize how much until you nearly lost him, and you know in your heart that he’s just going to go away again.  Throw himself into more danger, tempt death as always, risk his life for mere credits while all you can provide in return is this.  Skin to skin contact.  Someone to hold.  Someone who knows him, who knows the way he struggles between reaching out for a softness that life has always denied him and clinging to what is rough and familiar.  Someone to remind him that there’s still gentle and forgiving things in this galaxy that won’t disappear when he’s gone, and that he can always come home to them, as long as he can manage to find his way back.

Something sad tugs hard at your chest.  You want to tell him not to leave.  Again, again—you want nothing more than to beg him to stay.  You don’t have anything better to offer instead; if he asked you how it would work, how you imagine your lives would go if he wasn’t hunting quarry on a constant timetable, you’d be hard-pressed.  You don’t know.  But you know what you want to say, because it’s two words you shouldn’t say but always find yourself needing to say regardless.  

Don’t go.

But, instead of two words, you give him three.

Instead of asking him not to leave you again… in the haze and comfort of his arms, you think you just tell him that you love him.

And… you also don’t think the water falling down on the two of you is loud enough to cover it up this time.

It’s not ideal, you know.  You know.  From his point of view, he just got finished releasing all sorts of pent up tension on you, overwhelming your body with the strength and power of his in a way that normal people wouldn’t take as an expression of affection.  But you know him.  You know that he finds it much easier to express the things he feels in a physical way, which is why there’s a bar of soap against your back right now instead of his voice in your ear, telling you all the things you’ve always wanted to hear from him in return.  You know that sex is how this all began and it’s likely just the closest link between roughness and sweetness that he can really put his hands on, something that can fit him equally as well as it fits you.  Love is different, it’s thrilling and scary.  Even to someone like him, who lives everyday of his life surrounded by thrilling and scary things, who’s seen more bloodshed and suffering and pain than you can ever even imagine, you know that it’s scary.

Din doesn’t say anything back to your confession, and truthfully, not a single part of you was expecting him to.  It wasn’t said so he could say it back.  It just is.  Some things don’t need explanations, they just are.  You’re okay with that.

But, you eventually come to realize that he always waits until you’re just on the very edges of sleep, holding out until your blurry vision and fading consciousness can trick you into thinking you only imagined it.  You won’t ever figure out if it’s purposeful or if he just needs that long to find what he wants to say.

Another soft, lilting sentence in a language you wouldn’t be able to translate, even if you could pick out a single word.  It sounds so beautiful though, regardless of how mysterious and far away its meaning feels.  There’s something hidden underneath.  You ache to know what it is.

But you’re so tired.  You just whine softly against his shoulder, not being able to transform the thoughts into sentences anymore but hoping he understands regardless.  He can’t just resort to bearing his soul in Mando’a all the time now, especially when you’re always on the verge of sleep when he chooses to do so.

But at some point, his arms subtly tighten around you and the pressure is one of the only things that’s keeping you awake anymore.

“I won’t ever ask you to,” he says to you, the quietness of his baritone getting lost in the gentle spray and your looming slumber.  “I’m…  not allowed to ask.  I can’t.”

Your expression twitches just the slightest bit against his shoulder in confusion, wondering distantly what word or sentence you must’ve missed from before that would make him make sense.  Was that a translation?  Or a continuation?

But then your wet hair is slowly moved away from your nape and his head tilts down, face pressing into your neck and voice lowering until it’s nothing more than a breath against your skin, nothing more than a confession that he couldn’t ever say out loud with his full chest.  It’s a secret he only ever wants you to know, a truth he’s choosing to admit to even though you could ruin him with it.  You have no idea how much, you won’t know for a long time just how much power he’s giving you by telling you this one very simple thing.

“But whenever you want to look,” Din finally whispers, the only version of I love you too that a Mandalorian knows.  “You can.”

[the-sugar-crash]

Redacted Moving Head Canons

Ugh I haven't written in forever, and I really want to start getting back in the habit. Some hc inspired by the fact that I just finished helping my parents move into their new house, and I'm wishing I had someone like Damien to help me out right about now.

Shifters:

David is in charge

If he’s the one moving, he doesn’t want to ask for help, but if any of the members of his pack are the ones moving, he just shows up at their house and picks stuff up, asking where he should put it

Asher will clear out his schedule and is excited to help, but he will pop the bubble wrap, so don’t leave him in charge of packing anything that needs wrapped up. 

Milo is the man with the truck. Well, technically it's his dad's truck, but he sucked it up long enough to talk to his dad to borrow it just for you, so be grateful

And despite his short size, Milo has a very impressive deadlift, so he can help move any of the bigger pieces of furniture. 

He’s usually got a pretty good attitude about moving, at least until Asher asks him to grab one of the boxes on the top shelf where he can’t reach. 

Asher on the other hand, while happy to help where he can, will be slightly whiny about it. He switches between whining that he’s tired, and trying to lift as many boxes as he can to show off how strong he is

At least until David yells at him to be careful so he doesn’t pull a muscle. 

I feel like David will also throw in a couple lines here and there about, ‘what’s in here, rocks?’ but otherwise be pretty quiet until it’s time for him to leave. Then he’ll give you a one liner about how important family is right as he walks out the door, and then you think about that line all night. Because it’s David and of course he would. 

Vamps: 

This doesn’t even seem fair

They both pick up 15 boxes at a time and then leave

Kidding. Kinda

William would hire a moving company as a gift, and they would have everything packed and moved within two days, and he would pay to have you and your partner stay at a nice hotel while you wait for your stuff to be moved. 

Sam would grumble about it for a bit, insisting he doesn’t mind doing it himself, but would eventually give in and send ‘the old man’ a thank you card

Vincent on the other hand would take full advantage of it, pampering you with all the amenities the hotel offered while things are being finalized at the house. 

Damn Boys:

Moving is stressful, but when you have so many people you can divide the tasks among, it becomes a little bit easier. 

Huxley of course is the first to come to mind for actually moving the boxes. He has a giant truck with more than enough bed space to carry what you need, not to mention he can probably pick up a refrigerator single handedly. 

But when you also have a demon at your disposal whose body doesn’t have any physical limitations and can open portals… 

Damien has taken the lead on organizing all of the boxes, numbering each box and listing the contents of each on a spreadsheet. 

He has also numbered each of the rooms in the new house, and labeled each box and piece of furniture with its corresponding destination so there wouldn’t be any confusion when it comes time to move everything 

Lasko takes charge with packing. One night after everyone else goes to bed, Lasko pops in his headphones and listens to a D&D podcast while he zones out and packs half of the apartment in one night.

They rest of course aren’t happy once they realize Lasko has destroyed his sleeping schedule. Again. But he’s perfectly tetris-ed all of their belongings into boxes, so they aren’t too mad. 

Moving day itself is hectic. 

Despite all the planning, things of course get moved around in the confusion, or accidentally placed in the wrong room. 

But there’s a moment at the end of the day, as they’re all sitting on the floor of an empty dining room, eating pizza off of napkins because they forgot to leave out paper plates, when they take it all in and enjoy their first meal as a family in their new home, excited to make more memories and make the place their own.

[aminiatureworld]

Interest II

Characters: Kaeya, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,020

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Sometimes emotions can be confusing. In those times it can be easier to shut down. After all, wouldn’t finding the truth out be scarier?

In which the reader assumes their character is disinterested, and pulls away.

Author’s Note: I wrote a lot tonight! It was nice to write for multiple characters again, made me feel like the good old days, or something. 

Hope I’m finally getting back on schedule and hope you enjoy!

Kaeya

If Kaeya flirted with you, he also flirted with all of Mondstadt; or so you kept telling yourself.

You liked the cavalry captain, you liked him a lot. It was easy to like him, as easy as breathing air. The thickets of romance, the awkward looks, the stilted conversations, the dying words. None of those things existed in Kaeya.

If there were roses there were thorns too, and though you tried to convince yourself that this emotion, this easiness was something good, there was a part of you that fought back at the idea. The reason things were so easy with Kaeya was because of one simple reason. He didn’t like you. Or not the way you liked him. Kaeya flirted with all of Mondstadt after all, and you were merely one library assistant in the middle of an entire country. Your existence wasn’t one for the history books. Not compared to the man that you’d managed to fall hopelessly in love with anyways.

At first you tried to ignore those voices, that cynical side of yourself that existed only, it seemed, to make you unhappy. You weren’t necessarily an optimist by nature, but you were a bit of a hopeless romantic, and flirting or not you at least hoped to get your point across. Delivering Kaeya’s library requests first, always going up to him at lunchtime to talk, even giving him a special gift for the Windbloom festival. You really did try, you didn’t think that the opposite could be argued. Still things continued on as relatively normal however, Kaeya’s flirting never seeming to grow particularly towards you. Eventually it became harder and harder to avoid the voice in your head sneering you were wasting your time. Or maybe you were just tired.

Either way the answer seemed to be obvious. You knew when the answer was to count your losses and move on, and surely this was one of those times. Kaeya wasn’t going to see you as a partner, he just wasn’t. That didn’t mean he wasn’t kind, or that your conversations with him weren’t lovely, or even that you weren’t still in love with him. Still, wasn’t it time to move on to kinder winds? You wanted a clean break, wanted an end to your painful waiting; didn’t want to experience that clench in your heart when you watched Kaeya flirting with someone else as the point just drove further and further home. You wanted reprieve, and the only way to do that was to admit the obvious. This wasn’t going to happen.

So you gave up, or did your best attempt at giving up. You still spoke to Kaeya, the gods knew you probably couldn’t stand not speaking to him. You still tried to keep as light as before, tried to retain the dynamic, for something was better than nothing. Yet your days of simply chasing after him were over, and as you settled into you schedule of new normalcy you found, though things weren’t necessarily easier, at least they seemed simpler. Besides, how much had really changed? Kaeya most likely didn’t notice.

“Kaeya, the manuscript you requested on Liyue trade history came in yesterday. There were also a few other things that came in, though Lisa told me they’re classified.”

“Oh Lisa, always a stickler for rules. Would you like to know what I requested?”

“Like you would actually tell me,” you snorted. “No, I’m fine. It’s none of my business.”

“Aw,” Kaeya pouted slightly, crossing his arms in front of him. He seemed to be doing that more often these days, though maybe you were simply imagining it. “Where’s your sense of adventure darling? You seemed to have lost it somewhere.”

“I’m just following rules,” you pointed out.

Something had shifted about the conversation at some point, and you were suddenly feeling an undercurrent that hadn’t been there before. Finding it uncomfortable you quickly removed the space between you and Kaeya, reaching out to place the brown paper wrapped books into his hands. Taking them Kaeya lifted an eyebrow. Turning around he went to put them on his desk.

The momentary reprieve in atmosphere you felt quickly died, as before you had time to turn around the cavalry captain was back, this time leaning closely towards you.

“What is it?” You asked. This was certainly Kaeya behavior, but it still startled you nonetheless.

“You’re acting funny.”

“What? I’m acting completely normal.”

“If you say so.”

But the tone conveyed that Kaeya didn’t agree one bit. A smirk painting his lips he turned around, though something bitter seemed to flash behind his eyes, and for a moment you wondered if he had somehow caught on to the secret you’d been hoping to keep to yourself.

After that things seemed to continue on as normal for a few weeks. If Kaeya’s books were secretly transgressive, they certainly weren’t doing anything actively, and life as an assistant librarian to the Knights of Favonius retained its languid, unhurried pace. Still a part of you had never forgotten about that weird snippet of conversation, one which was doing a surprisingly good job at eating away at you.

You were almost relieved when Kaeya brought the matter up again.

“Is something wrong darling?”

“You asked me that two weeks ago Kaeya.”

“Really? It’s been that long? I must be neglecting my duties,” he let out a careless sort of laugh, before his eyes steadied. “I was hoping that this time I might get a more honest answer.”

“So you think I’m lying to you when I’m saying nothing’s wrong?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m not! How could I be lying to both you and myself.”

“I find that doing such a thing is a surprisingly easy task. Nevertheless, even if you aren’t lying, there is something wrong.”

“And what would that thing be, Mr. Expert?” For some reason this conversation was aggravating you. Maybe because you couldn’t decide whether or not he was right.

“I don’t know, I was hoping you could tell me. I can’t say sorry for something I’m not aware of, I don’t know what I did. You do though. So the sooner you tell me what’s wrong the sooner things can go back to normal.”

“What do you mean by normal Kaeya? If anything this is more normal. Not that things have changed that much. I’m sorry I don’t deliver your books first, if that’s what you’re complaining about. But frankly, I don’t see what you’re so upset about? You’ve got plenty of other friends, so why are you complaining to me?”

Maybe it wasn’t your best use of logic, but your ability to circle around the focus of the conversation, the unspoken emotions that still burned through you, was somewhat lacking.

“This is not normal. I’m not talking about library books, I’m talking about friends. Or maybe avoidance. You’ve been avoiding me lately, even if you aren’t doing it completely. It wounds me, you know. My dearest companion, what did I do to earn their ire?”

“You did nothing.”

“That’s obviously a lie.”

“It’s not.”

“It is,” Kaeya voice was clipped, matching your same tone. Even now he was shifting himself to better fit the atmosphere in the room, something you normally valued so deeply.

“It’s not. It’s really not! That’s the problem Kaeya, don’t you see?” Tears that had threated the corners of your eyes were now burning across your vision, as your emotions finally broke through the paltry excuse for a dam you’d been building. “You’ve done nothing, you’ve never done anything. You’re always nice, and flirty, and a bit shameless. And that’s fine! It’s not your fault that you don’t feel like I feel for you. I don’t want to make you feel guilty. You flirt with everyone, and that’s fine. I don’t care! I really don’t. I don’t want to burden you. Still, can’t you just let me feel upset by it? Can’t you just let me give up? Do you know how painful it is not to give up? Why won’t you let me at least do that, but no! Instead you come in here talking about how everything’s different, as if I’ve offended you, or as if you worry would change anything. Of course it won’t! And it shouldn’t! But damn it Kaeya, I just want to be upset!”

By this time Kaeya had closed the space between you two, wrapping his arms around you and running soft, slightly cool, fingers through your hair. You nestled into him, despite yourself. You were so tired and so angry, and right now it didn’t really seem to matter who you cried on as long as you were crying on someone. Letting yourself be carried away by your emotions you let your ragged breathing unleash itself inside the walls of Kaeya’s office.

Eventually you calmed down. Though you expected Kaeya to step away when your breathing evened out, instead he remained there, continuing to run comforting fingers though you hair, his other hand gently cradling your shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that was the reason.” It was simple, direct. Undeniably Kaeya.

“What else would be the reason,” you grumbled.

“I don’t know. It’s why I asked. Thank you for answering me.”

“You forced me into it.” There was no true venom behind your words. You were sure Kaeya knew that.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“No.”

“Not yet?”

You shook your head. “Not yet.”

“That’s alright. Now’s not the best time anyways, since I ought to look my best. Not that I don’t look amazing already, but I should dress up for an occasion such as that. Still, I hope that eventually you’ll allow yourself to live in a way that doesn’t make you unhappy. Sometimes we can’t do that. This time you can.”

“Maybe.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting for you darling, and you know how impatient I am.”

“What if you have to wait for a long time?” You were feeling quite contrary.

“Then I’ll wait. After all, I’ll have quite the reward for my patience.”

You smiled into Kaeya. Despite yourself, you knew it wouldn’t be that long.

 Xiao

With Xiao, the question was always boundaries. How far is too far? How far is not far enough? It was an endless maze, even if it was a maze you would gladly continue to explore, sure that the light at the end must lead to something truly beautiful. Still, you didn’t exactly need your emotions to come in and complicate something already so difficult to navigate.

At first you tired to ignore, to take a page from the book the yaksha you’d so hopelessly fallen for had written. Yet if was much harder than it ought to be, for loving Xiao seemed to come as naturally as breathing, and no amount of looking for faults seemed to be doing much to change that. After all, everyone has faults, and nothing could change the innate goodness you saw in Xiao, the wonder and light that he carried with him, despite his millennia of hardships.

At first you thought to tell him, to cross that border, find that boundary and test it with all the patience it had taken to test and cross those other boundaries.

“Xiao?”

“Mmm.”

“I, I have something to tell you.”

“What?”

“I, I made you some Almond Tofu!”

Xiao let his eyes widen with characteristic surprise, before leaping down nimbly from his perch to take the dish you brought out from behind your back. You watched as he ate it happily, warmth running through your veins. Nevertheless a part of you cried in frustration, perhaps even pain, for you knew you had failed to do what you had set out to do.

It wasn’t simply that you feared losing Xiao’s friendship, feared losing his respect. It was the boundaries, those invisible lines you were so careful not to step over. Xiao needed those boundaries, you knew he did. Though he had told you very little about his past, what he had told was horrific, and you hardly doubted that Xiao’s survival, his failure to spin into madness, was because of those walls he’d carefully constructed around himself. You wanted him to shed those walls yes, to slowly emerge from the darkness which he held around himself. But you weren’t ready to push him to do so, or not very much at least. It wasn’t truly in your nature to do so anyways.

So you expressed your feelings as best you could, with tofu and flowers and all the kindness you had to offer. When you weren’t working, spending your time sewing for a high-end Liyue shop, you were with Xiao. A part of you assumed that it would be enough, that if you gave Xiao enough of your time and enough of your attention the barriers would magically break down. One day you’d wake up and they’d be gone and you’d be happy, having never pushed things too far.

As nothing truly seemed to change however you grew slowly discouraged. You weren’t really aware of your flagging hopes, not really. It was more that you were busy, you were so busy. Besides, Xiao hadn’t expressed much sadness over losing your company. Perhaps he was secretly relieved, perhaps you had pushed too far at some point and he hadn’t told you. Maybe it was best that you give his boundaries time, and not push it too far.

Even looking back it was hard not to call the logic sound, or at least sound to you. In some ways you and Xiao were cut of the same cloth, and though that brought with it an understanding, it also brought its own set of issues. Neither of you were willing to walk over the line that the other drew, even if you could not see where they had actually drawn it. Even if not doing so was painful, the fear of what pain might come if you did was too great a discouragement.

So you began to slowly fade away, without being entirely aware that you were indeed doing so. You were busy after all, and Xioa was most likely too. He was still a yaksha after all, a being whose life was almost completely disconnected from your own. Surely it wouldn’t be that surprising if his views were similar? Maybe you truly had crossed a line, and that was why he never seemed to enquire after you. Or maybe it was that you hadn’t mattered all that much in the first place.

It was a wet, cold autumn day. You sighed slightly as you unlocked your door, having gotten drenched by protecting a bold of fabric you were bringing home to cut and pin. Letting out a huff, you opened the door and went to take a nap. You must’ve been tired, for it took a few seconds for the screech of surprise to leave you mouth at the sight of the unexpected intruder waiting for you.

“Xiao! You scared me!”

You stared at the yaksha, very much surprised by the sight of him. Your surprise had very little time to register though, being quickly replaced by concern for the storm so clearly gathering in Xiao’s eyes.

“You were gone for so long.”

“I’m sorry Xiao. It’s just been so busy you know, everyone’s preparing for the change in season. Besides…”

“Besides?”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I mean, I know you also have a job, and though I want you to find happiness outside of it, I don’t want to pressure you.”

Xiao’s facial expressions evidently conveyed that he was not impressed. Searching for the right words you let your gaze drift towards the floor. You weren’t sure that you were ever going to be ready for a conversation like this, but certainly not in the state you were now. Still, you owed Xiao some sort of explanation. Of course you did.

“I’m really sorry Xiao. I should have found time for you. It’s completely my fault.”

“That’s not what I want.” Xiao’s tone was gruff, frustrated. You found the frustration mirrored within yourself.

“What do you want?”

“I,” Xiao flushed. “I don’t want you to apologize. I’m not blaming you for anything. You shouldn’t apologize for nothing.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

Xiao shook his head. For a moment he just stood there, eyes stormy. Slowly though he reached out to take your hand. You found the act surprisingly comforting. You had missed Xiao’s hands, delicately built, calloused beyond believe. They felt comforting and warm and safe, and you wished you could never let go of them. Drawing strength from that you slowly raised your gaze slightly.

“What do you want, Xiao?”

At first Xiao said nothing. Perhaps he was staring at a line, contemplating whether to cross it. You had half the mind to apologize again, but managed to stop the words from coming out. You knew that it was just a force of habit. Besides, Xiao hadn’t said anything yet. A small spark of hope burned inside you, the hope that something might go well.

There was a gentle tug on your wrist and suddenly you were in Xiao’s arms, his hair gently tickling your nose.

“This,” he mumbled. “I want this.”

For a moment you felt yourself freeze in shock, but soon enough you found yourself melting into his embrace, wrapping your own arms around him. Xiao was warm like a heater, warm beyond that too. It was as if there was something in his soul. Gentle, flickering, it brought you happiness that you never thought you could imagine. You wanted to bask in it forever, it was worth any twists and turns you might have to take to reach it.

“Don’t disappear again.”

“I won’t.”

“I should have come earlier.”

“It’s alright. Hey, Xiao?”

“What?” Xiao’s arms tightened around you slightly. You didn’t want to talk much more either.

“What do you think of me?”

Xiao let out a soft snort. “I thought that was pretty obvious.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

It was more than you could have ever hoped for.

[enchanted-moura]

I am not the most sanitized pc spiritualist?

I don’t believe in love and light and giving people 8000 chances.

Energy doesn’t have an aesthetic.

Everybody isn’t human.

Nature isn’t all that nice, she’s for herself first. She doesn’t care if we get taken out. I think she will carry on.

If you can’t curse, you can’t heal.

Nobody has a singular purpose, we have many, if you feel blocked from attaining something, speak to people, get help.

Love is not a human force. Animals love, so do spirits. It doesn’t belong to us lol

When I dreamt of Aphrodite, she showed me two of her children and how she was making them prosperous. There is so so much to the mysteries, it is terrifying and expansive.

Anything can be spiritual because everything has roots in the occult

Astrology is so helpful but so can MBTI, mythology etc. The universe is inexplicable and expansive

I wish spiritual cleansings was a normal part of life, certain things aren’t normal like strings of bad luck

I have spirit friends from closed traditions or cultures outside of mine and enjoy studying different cultures. I am respectful always and never cross boundaries when/if they visit. I am from the African diaspora so who knows

I don’t believe in constantly interjecting in people’s lives, it alters their crossroads and robs them of agency. This is why people get annoyed by people who help without cause.

I see nothing wrong with alcohol & herbs of the Earth used with moderation. 

I believe that modern medicine and therapy is great

I get tired of seeing the same herbs and plants over and over, its giving a lack of genuine curiosity and adoration of nature.

Being spiritual doesn’t mean I’m a healer and have the answer to the world’s problems. 

It doesn’t mean I’m psychic and can see the future. I can see blocked roads and self sabotage though.

Spirituality is really FUN. Knowing that some of my fave folklore is true or everything has an energetic resonance in the multiverse....

I see this Earth experience as a life of pleasure, abundance, expansion and joy not sacrifice, misery, debates and pain

The self loathing self sacrificing self hating energy of traditional religion is not something I desire

Imagination is divine.

The occult is dangerous, it is a multitude of realms of realms not for the lazy or undisciplined.

I love magic that works.

A lot of you are spiritual bullies and know it alls. 

I want to be one of those rich witches who oversee plots of land, invest in precious gems and has 7 husbands like Mrs Zabini

[harry-writings]

Bothered

- A blurb in which somebody flirts with Y/n for the first time, and Harry lets jealousy get the best of him

This is a little Drive Me Wild extra for all your valentine’s day needs!!! I hope you enjoy :) 

Masterlist

-

“Tequila, please. The best one you’ve got!”

Open bars at work parties are an absolute lifesaver.

Harry and Y/n have been nonstop on their feet since three, wearing their sunday best, talking to all the higher ups and other officials at the firm with as much professionalism as possible. And though it was certainly a nice break from the work setting, it was still a lot for the both of them to keep up with.

It’s nearly eleven now, the party near its end and the exhaustion finally settling in. But Y/n wouldn’t ever dream of passing up unlimited free drinks whenever offered (neither would Harry, but getting her home safe is his biggest priority). Besides, she needed to take the edge off, somehow.

The bartender smiles at her, his eyes looking at her up and down very briefly before making her drink.

She’s humming softly to herself, her fingers tapping against the bar, the palm of her other hand resting on the back of her neck and she looks around the venue, admiring the architecture and the chandeliers that hang from above her.

“How long have you been working for them?” The bartender asks as he slides the shotglass to her, to which Y/n smiles.

“Almost three years! It’s been really good to me so far. I must say, though, it gets a bit stressful and there are a handful of times we end up having to take our work home. But I’ve met some of the best people through the company, so I can’t complain much! Especially when this is the only job I’ve ever considered staying at for so long.”

When the bartender doesn’t answer, yet rather just stares at her with amusement and endearment in his eye, Y/n starts to get nervous.

She considers diverting her attention back to Harry and moving on with her night as if she hadn’t spoken a word at all, but she’s never been the kind of person to walk away from an uncomfortable silence. And most certainly, she has never found it in her will to escape somebody’s pressing and persistent stares.

All of it just makes her so anxious.

So, as an attempt to calm her nerves, Y/n throws her head back as she takes her shot of tequila, her nose scrunching and eyes squinting as it burns down her throat and settles in her chest.

“What about you? How long have you been working as a bartender? I’ve heard it’s a lot of work, remembering all the recipes and stuff. Whenever I went to university, I would go to bars and get drunk by myself and watch how fast all the bartenders made drinks. I found it mesmerising, really. Like an art, almost. A sport, too, I suppose, given how much you all have to think and act quickly yet unmistakably.”

Harry smiles softly to himself, a bittersweet feeling bubbling in his chest as he listens to her get caught up in her rambles.

She doesn’t do that much with him anymore, not in the way she used to. And it isn’t because she’s lost any trust in him, or because she loves him any less — rather, it’s because she trusts and loves him so much more that she doesn’t feel the need to fill any gaps or spaces between them anymore.

He doesn’t make her nervous.

She doesn’t need reassurance with him because she already knows how madly in love they are with one another and how they are undeniably bound to spend the rest of their lives together. The silences they share are comfortable for her, his simple presence enough to make her feel at ease and loved and respected without him having to constantly remind her.

And surely, Y/n still chews his ear off here and there, but he only ever wants more of her.

It’s a disease, his greed and longing for her. She is so enough yet so not enough at the same time, it kills him to think about it, but only in the best way possible.

But the smile and the admiration die down nearly instantly when Harry’s eyes catch the way the bartender looks at Y/n, and the way he straightens himself before her, and the way his bottom lip tucks between his teeth ever so slightly.

Harry crosses his arms at this, watching the way another man is drooling and fonding over his Y/n and not at all trying to hide it. And the sad part is that he can’t even blame him for it — how could he? He had done the very same thing for nearly two years straight.

So he suffers with it in silence.

“My goodness, I do love me a woman who can carry a conversation.”

Harry’s eyes squint over at him, his arms still crossed over his chest, his fingers twisting as he watches him blink flirtatiously at Y/n and the upward twitch of his lip whenever she flips her hair over her shoulder.

She only ever does that when she’s sweating, he knows this because she’s his girlfriend and he knows her more than he’s ever known himself. He also knows that Y/n thinks too lowly of herself to ever consider one’s kindness as flirting.

And though Harry wouldn’t dare to dream of changing anything about her, he does wish, just this once, that she’d see it.

Y/n blushes at his comment, but only because she doesn’t know what to say.

“Can I have another shot, please?” She asks as a form of distraction, but in such a sweet manner the bartender barely seems to notice. “I never get to go out to drink much nowadays, with work and all. So, I’m sorry if I order too much. Large groups of people aren’t really my thing. Not that I hate people, or anything. I guess they just make me nervous.”

And as the bartender pours her shot glass full of tequila, his eyes don’t make the slightest move to leave her. He’s gawking, looking smug as if he could ever stand a chance.

Y/n pretends not to notice.

“Look, I close down the bar in an hour. And since large groups of people aren’t really your thing, why don’t I take you somewhere nice —”

“Oh...”

“— just you and me, so I can have the chance to get to know you more? Maybe in more ways than one, if I’m lucky?”

Oh, fuck no.

Flirting is one thing, but listening as some stranger talks about wanting to have sex with his girlfriend is something entirely different. Especially when she hasn’t done anything other than be nice and considerate towards him.

He’s taking advantage of her kindness.

Harry can’t hold himself back anymore.

“Excuse me?”

And curse his fucking natural lack of emotion because it was supposed to sound threatening and protective, but rather, it must have come off the way any other customer were to grab a bartender’s attention because he looks over at him with a tight and strained smile, clearly laced with annoyance, with not a hint of suspicion.

“Yes, sir, what can I help you with?”

Harry clenches his jaw and nods his head, his gaze falling to the top of the bar as he tries — really, really tries — to keep himself together instead of knocking this poor bloke’s teeth in.

The urge is there, but he could never scare Y/n like that, or sacrifice his job for satisfaction’s sake — he was lucky he didn’t jeopardize it when he landed a solid right hook on his coworker a few months back. But to make such a rude, blunt, disrespectful comment to his girlfriend is too much for him to process.

But it’s not all anger. There’s something else there — something else brewing and swelling inside of him that’s never been there before. He can’t identify it no matter how hard he tries.

“It would help me tremendously, actually, if you were to stop asking to sleep with my girlfriend right in front of me.”

It’s silent for a moment, the air thick with tension as the bartender looks both between Harry and Y/n, Y/n and Harry. He looks weary of it, as if it were so impossible for her to ever be seen with somebody like him.

“You’re with him?” He asks Y/n, as if Harry’s word wasn’t enough and it nearly throws him off the deep end.

Y/n’s eyes blink with confusion and shock as she tries to adjust herself to her surroundings. Everything happened so quickly to her, she feels like she can’t keep up.

Harry senses this — he senses her uncertainty and uneasiness and takes notice in the way her fingers begin to grip at her shot glass a bit tighter. Confrontation and arguments are not Y/n’s strong suit and in the hands of either one, she is defenseless.

“Is my word not enough for you?”

The bartender lifts his hands up in defense, his eyebrows raised as if somehow proving a point he’s clearly been missing. “Can’t blame me for assuming she’s single, you’re sitting next to the prettiest girl on earth and you look like you couldn’t even be bothered.”

Harry’s hands turn to fists, his jaw clenching and eyebrows twitching as he hears him speak all the words he’d rather die than hear spoken again.

How a complete stranger can cut a wound so deep within him is unfathomable, but here he is, bleeding out with all his insecurities and flaws and weaknesses along with it. And it pains him. It hurts and if one more wrong word is spoken, he’ll fall victim to all the darkest parts of himself.

He can’t risk that, not around Y/n.

“I would highly suggest you stop talking now —”

“You aren’t even interested in her! I gave her more attention in the last ten minutes than you’ve given her all night!”

“Hey.” Y/n cuts in with pouted lips, her face fallen as her voice quivers at the argument brewing in front of her. “That’s not true. He — he’s been beside me all night. I thought it was — I thought it was obvious.”

“Doesn’t matter anymore. We’re going home.”

Harry’s tone is unlike anything she’s ever heard. It’s stern, harsh, laced with impatience as he stands from his barstool and scrambles to gather her belongings.

And Y/n’s at a loss, just standing against the bar helplessly, looking at Harry with tearful eyes and shaking lips. He has never been this angry at her before and she doesn’t know how to fix it. Talking was what got them into this mess, she’s sure talking won’t get themselves out of it.

But it doesn’t hurt to try.

“Wait, H. I’m sorry, I —”

“That’s enough, now. We’re making our last rounds and then we’re going straight home.”

That was the first time he’s ever interrupted her.

-

It isn’t until Harry starts the car that Y/n breaks the silence.

“H, I didn’t know he was going to ask me out on a date.” She speaks with a voice small and shoulders slumped as she tries desperately to fix all the trust she has broken. “I was just trying to be nice and —”

“Not now, Y/n, please.”

She realizes the severity of the situation when he doesn’t call her a pet name.

Her eyes fill with tears, fully aware that even when he was most upset with her, he never interrupted her while talking or avoided her gaze like it was the last thing he ever wanted to see. He’s doing both right now and to say that it hurt her is an understatement.

He’s sick of hearing me speak. He’s angry at me for talking too much to everybody and not noticing the consequences. He’s tired of listening to me make excuses for myself when I’m never going to change. He doesn’t want this anymore.

Her mind can’t help but to think such things, and though deep down in her heart she knows he’d never feel that way towards her, words of her past can’t help but torment her in the heat of this moment. Because this is so different than how it usually is with him, and it all started with her.

Harry can feel how much of a toll his words took on her, but he doesn’t know what to say. He is feeling so many things, and processing so much, he feels like he’s lost himself. All sense of everything else had left him the second the bartender spoke the words he always feared to hear.

You’re sitting next to the prettiest girl on earth and you look like you couldn’t even be bothered.

He knows it isn’t true, and he also knows she knows it isn’t true, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

To know other people see it that way devastates him. He doesn’t date Y/n to look uninterested in her, or bored of her, or tired to be with her — he dates Y/n because he wants to show her off, desires to make her and everybody else see how in love with her he is, to make it known she never has to walk this world alone.

To know he has failed to do that simply by being himself is a lot for him to take in.

He sighs, ripping off his glasses so his other hand can rub at his burning eyes before settling the both of them back on the steering wheel, his gaze still set on the windshield.

“I’m sorry for not letting you finish talking, twice now. It wasn’t right and I know what that does to you. And I’m not angry or upset with you, either. I’m just — I’m just not in the mood right now, alright? I need some time to think.”

Y/n nods, fearing that whatever words she chooses to speak will only make it worse.

Neither of them talk the rest of the way home, but that doesn’t mean Harry doesn’t reach his hand over to her thigh to squeeze at it three times, as if to tell her he loves her.

-

It isn’t until they make it into their bedroom that Harry starts to let it all out.

He’s pacing, his hands fidgeting with his clothes and running through his hair, his eyes wild but still refusing to look at her, muttering curses under his breath but nothing directly towards her just yet.

Y/n’s standing by the dresser, taking off her remaining jewelry and allowing him his time to dwell on his feelings. He needs this. She knows she’s the only person that he’ll ever show this kind of emotion to — he couldn't even show it to himself — so she listens, smiles sympathetically at him here and there, refusing to leave his side until this is all figured out.

He huffs before letting out a sickened laugh.

“Who the hell does he think he is? Telling me I’m not interested in you. I can’t be walking around kissing and hovering and touching all over you at a work party, I respect you too much. But he wouldn’t know a damn thing about that, would he?”

He throws his suit jacket down on the bed, only allowing himself one beat of a moment to shake his head before his hands start to fidget again, pacing around the foot of the bed to try and understand his primary emotion.

He feels a million and ten different emotions scrambling within him at once, he can’t make sense of them. Whether he’s angry, or sad, or hurt, or insecure, or humiliated… he doesn’t know. It all feels the same yet all feels so different. He is utterly lost in all of them.

“Then proceeds to have the nerve to say he’s given you more attention than I have. What the fuck does that even mean? All he does is serve you two drinks and speak one sentence. I give you all my time, all my company, all my attention, and somehow he thinks he’s better for you than me?”

And it hits her.

No wonder he’s been acting so different towards her and so quiet despite him not blaming her for what happened — he’s jealous, which is the exact reason he doesn’t have an understanding with it.

She’s his first girlfriend, and until now, there had never been any reason for him to feel this way.

But as sick and twisted as it sounds, Y/n’s heart warms at the thought of it. Because never once has someone ever had a problem with letting her go. Her loss never affected anybody around her, and so nobody had ever feared it.

To know that out of all people, it’s him who does, means everything to her.

She hums at him, an all too knowing smile on her face as she makes her way to her frantic lover, who stills when he notices her closeness.

Her hands rest at his chest, rubbing at it over his dress shirt, just the way he likes. It reminds him of the night of their first date — when she gave into her cravings and put her hands nearly everywhere they could touch — and so she always goes back to that very first moment.

It never fails him.

“It’s okay, lovebug.” Y/n smiles softly at him, her voice even more soft and tender than usual as she tries to get him to relax.

Her hands slither down the hem of his trousers, her fingers resting just above the swell of his bum and pulling him in closer to her. And he wraps his arms around her shoulders, a heavy sigh leaving his lips before bringing his chest toward her cheek for it to nest in.

“Don’t let somebody get the best of you. Especially when they don’t know anything about you or me or our relationship. We know what we are and what we have, it doesn’t matter what he thinks is better for me. I have what’s best. Forever.”

He sighs, the weight of the night lifting from him slightly, but not enough.

He rests his chin on the top of her head, his eyes on the verge of being soaked with tears. Because though he knows her words to be true, he just can’t seem to shake what’s rattling in his bones and picking at his skin.

He wants it all to be okay, and it almost is, just not fully. And it’s killing him from the inside out.

“It’s a new feeling for me.” Harry confesses sadly, trying to think of the right words to say to explain what’s burning in his chest. “It hurts me to feel it. I’m so comfortable and confident in you and yet somehow I can’t — I can’t stop thinking about you and that fucking bartender and him touching you and making you laugh and —”

“You’re jealous.”

She pulls away from him slightly, her eyes looking up at him softly and sympathetically. He gives into her gaze for only a beat longer before looking away from her again, unable to take it.

It all makes sense — the unfamiliar feelings, the scrambling of emotions, the sensitivity to the words that had been spoken about him. His relationship had been threatened for the first time since it started, how could he not be?

“Of course I’m jealous. Which is absolutely horrible because you look so pretty yet it hurts too much to look at you.”

She chuckles, a playful smirk on her face as she reaches her hands up to his cheeks. And she turns his head to the side, forcing his eyes to look into hers as she rubs her thumb along his cheekbones.

Even like this, he is the most perfect man she’s ever seen. She has loved this person longer than she has loved anything else, how he could ever feel jealous of anybody is absolutely beyond her. He is all she will ever need, and everything she will ever want.

He is the only person that has ever deserved her.

“Baby, you have nothing to be jealous of. I don’t think, since the moment I’ve laid eyes on you, I’ve ever bothered to look for anybody else.” His breath faults, then, his heart dropping as if it were falling in love all over again.

And just like that, the hurt is gone.

“I’m yours, H. I have always been yours.”

He wants her to keep going, so instead of answering, he taps the back of her thigh twice. He’s never done so outside of sex, but he needs her all over him, holding him, hanging onto him. He needs it now more than ever.

She giggles, understanding exactly what he wants before jumping up until her legs are wrapped around his waist and her arms are looped around his neck. He catches her instantly, snuggling his face into the crook of her neck and kissing at the exposed skin.

She loves how much her words have an affect on him.

“I love you so much. I always will. No matter how many sleazy men ask me to sleep with them.”

He whines, lifting his head from her shoulder before looking at her with sad eyes and pouted lips at the subtle reminder that somebody else thought of her that way. Only he has, only he can, it doesn’t matter the circumstance.

She’s his.

She smiles down at him with a small blush on her cheeks, her arms unwrapping from his neck so her hands can grip his face again.

“I sleep with you. Every night. In more ways than one.” She kisses at his lips. “Cause I’m lucky.”

And for the first time tonight, he smiles. And as if that wasn’t enough for her, he laughs too — quietly, breathlessly — his hands rubbing all along her lower back and her thighs.

“Hmm... I am lucky, aren’t I?” Harry hums in bliss, his eyes looking at her fondly as she hangs on his neck in their home and it doesn’t get better than this. She had a man practically drooling on her lap and yet she’s here, with him, loving him, choosing him, just like she always has. “I do have the prettiest girl in the world. And the sweetest. And the strongest.”

“Too bad you couldn’t be bothered.” She teases, a smirk on her lips before her tongue pokes out to run quickly against his closed lips.

He lets out an almost sinister laugh, rumbling so deep in his chest she somehow manages to feel it in her legs.

“Why don’t I show you how bothered I am?”