#queue oho

[yunoftheclouds]

the next time someone starts an argument with me over something dumb i will start making the most obnoxious jokes ever. we are both clowns but at least i can take off the nose

[suncrayon]

neige has been dead for so many slutty slutty years

[clwntears]

[ BLOODY ]

⸤ 🌌 ⸣ ⸎ @ninebow . ✩ starter prompts : wound - related angst / accepting ﹗

it was rare for the director to take missions or assignments out of snezhnaya, but duty called, and if that was what her majesty requested, then who was he to question that?

he was investigating a ruin, clearing rubble out of the way when he heard struggling. materializing his polearm, he cautiously inched forward. peering around a corner, he soon found a young man with white hair and a canine headpiece, blood splattered on him.

pale blue eye shifted to the assailants, a rather large group of treasure hoarders surrounding the other. the director knew the young man could handle himself, but he couldn't leave him in good conscience.

twirling his polearm, he sped forward, easily taking out a good handful of the bandits with cryo - infused slashes. he was careful not to harm the white haired male.

when the bandits were cleared out, pierro huffed out.

"are you alright?" he asked.

[shunsuiken]

DON’T FORGET WHO’S TAKING YOU HOME (and in whose arms you’re gonna be).

pairing(s). kaeya, childe, ayato, kaveh, neuvillette x fem!reader

genre. fluff

wc. 200-400 for each character

an. AND SING WITH ME 🎤🎤 SO DARLING SAVE THE LAST DANCE FOR MEEE michael buble literally left no crumbs with this song i had to write about it omg + ALSO happy valentines day everyone !!! i may not have a valentine this year but im happy to post this for anybody feeling a little lonely today !! you are so so loved okay ?!!! come and collect a kiss from me before reading on 💋 MUAH have a lovely valentines day !!! <33

kaeya alberich

you’re really good at hiding, kaeya thinks to himself with a huff and a smile on his lips. searching all over the plaza for you was making him break a sweat in his navy blue tuxedo. with another turn around the corner he decides to remove his tuxedo jacket for the time being, folding it over his arm to carry instead.

“no, no, no klee! stop it! you can’t play with your things here, if you blow things up-”

“-master jean will put me in solitary confinement…”

oho, kaeya recognises these two voices very well. he finds it so hilarious that at the end, his feet lead him right to you! not even a single thought was processed as he turned the corner two seconds ago but here you are.

he hides behind the large potted plant, listening to the conversation you and the beloved spark knight share. he stays there until it becomes quiet between you two.

“kaeya, you peacock, i know it’s you.”

kaeya lets out a baffled noise, finally showing himself from behind the plant, offended by the ridiculous nickname you gave him. “snowflake, how dare you?”

“klee, don’t eavesdrop on people like this man when you grow older, yeah?” you point animatedly at your lover, who’s folding his arms and scoffing at you.

klee only giggles, nodding her head. “i gotta go find albedo now!” you watch as she skips off towards the plaza, waving goodbye.

you then turn towards your next problem that stands behind you. “i thought you were out dancing?”

“i was, but they’ll start playing the last dance soon and how can my last dance not be with you?” your lover walks towards you, pulling you closer by your waist with his free arm. you immediately wrap your arms around his neck, smiling softly at his intentions.

you hear an announcement echoing from the plaza before you can reply, and you figure it might have been mika because of how timid the voice sounded.

“good evening everyone, please bring all your friends and company over for the last dance of the night!”

“sounds like our queue.” you slide your arms off his shoulder to grab his hand, pulling him with you without warning.

“oh snowflake, hold on-” kaeya almost trips on air and the sounds of your laughter bounce off the concrete floor and walls as you drag him down the staircase leading to the plaza.

childe

you can never refuse ajax’s request for a dance, because he won’t take no for an answer. especially when it comes to dancing. your feet hurt so much. you’re so ready to just fall on top of your bed and go to sleep. but the only thing that keeps you wide awake, heart pumping and everything is the look on your lover's face.

his gaze usually has this inhumane and dull look to them, but you find that whenever he looks at you or when he participates in something he loves, his gaze finally twinkles. it works so miraculously too. like all of a sudden life was returned to him and he could see.

the smile on your lips grows when you think about this. you think it’s sweet how you’re one of the reasons that the life in his eyes returns.

ajax notices the tighter grip you hold on his forearm, making his lips curl in curiosity. “what’s going on in your head, baby?”

you zone in on the situation, you’re still dancing, and you shake your head in response. “nothing, ajax.” you want to keep your thoughts to yourself but when ajax smiles at you like that, with the most expectant look on his face, you can’t help yourself. “actually, i just thought about the dance.”

he twirls you around to the music before connecting arms with you again. “you just thought about the dance?” his brow quirks in amusement.

“no, no not like that,” you say with a sheepish chuckle before continuing, “i just thought that this number is the longest one so far.”

“well of course,” ajax responds with an eye smile. “it’s the last song.”

“it… is?” you look up at ajax while trying to fight the urge to look anywhere else.

if this is the last song… and you’re dancing with him… then that can only mean-

when the choreography allows ajax to pull you against his chest, he leans down so he can whisper in your ear, “you will be my final dance partner tonight.”

kamisato ayato

these few days at fontaine have been strumming the strings of your heart like a guitar—ayato has been spending so much time with you that you’re beginning to think of such ridiculous conclusions. his eyes that linger on your face, his hand that hovers on the small of your back when leading you out of a hall and it’s just these little things that he does with you that makes you want to claw an entire curtain off its rod. one time he even poured you a glass of wine before taking a sip with the same glass—it’s like he’s forgotten he’s the yashiro commissioner!

thoma and ayaka barely bat an eye. but also, they’ve known ayato for much longer than you have since you were a recent (and lovely) addition to the little family. so… perhaps this is just how he acts?

“uh-huh, when he’s courting someone that is.”

the sentence that thoma said offhandedly is the only thing that rings through your mind. but your thoughts must’ve shone through your expression because ayato is quick on his feet to smoothly guide you off the dance floor, gloved hand still holding yours as he brings you to a less crowded area—the balcony.

“you appeared to be distracted, that’s why i pulled us away,” ayato breaks the silence and your train of thoughts.

he’s still holding my hand—is what you’re repeating in your head. your eyes can barely focus on a single object within your field of vision. your bottom lip quivers at the revelation you’re carefully starting to uncover.

“i am not distracted,” you inhale sharply when you accidentally meet ayato’s gaze. “i…” your brows crease as you try to get words out of your mouth.

ayato brings your hand up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and you can physically feel the blood rush up to your fingertips. “would my lady like to return to the hotel?”

your voice leaves your throat in but a hoarse whisper, “what did you just call me?”

you hear a chuckle from ayato and it makes you snap your head around in embarrassment. this new term of endearment rolls off his tongue way too easily, the rascal must have been practicing!

“oh no, no, no, my lady, you must look at me,” a grin appears on ayato’s face at your attempts to hide your expression and when he finally gets you to look at him, you’re caged between his arms.

“why would you call me that?” you whine at his teasing.

“well i just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore,” ayato murmurs, a dust of pink decorating his cheeks. “will you allow me to call you that?”

kaveh

three hours. it’s been three hours since you and kaveh decided to learn a cute couples dance routine ‘for funsies’. whose idea was this again? weren’t you two supposed to be just friends? doesn’t kaveh have a client meeting tomorrow that he should be preparing for?

“so we do this—then this and then we’re supposed to oh—!”

the silence is deafening. the song playing in the background fades as you both stare at each other, even mirroring the same expression. eyes as wide as saucers. lips just inches from connection.

kaveh’s breath fans over your lips and you can hear the audible gulp he makes at the closeness. he’s also entirely aware that the red in his cheeks has reached his ears by now. while you, on the other hand, have started hearing the percussion of your heart in your own eardrums.

“o-oh…” your legs are frozen in place and hang on a second, why haven’t either of you let go?

his hand is respectfully sat on your waist, while the other is occupied holding your hand. you hear him inhale and it grabs your attention before you can get anymore lost in his gaze. his gaze observes your lovely face, eyes flickering from one feature to another as he whispers, “has anybody ever told you you’re pretty up close?”

you shake your head ever so slightly. “no.”

kaveh likes this answer, humming as he ponders for a moment.

your eyes sparkle when that handsome smile of his appears on his lips. he chuckles shortly at your expression, your palm feels so warm when connected with his.

“i’m glad i’m the first to tell you.”

neuvillette

“oh dear, neuvillette,” you chuckle softly, walking towards him as he takes another sip of his water. he stands in a more secluded corner of the hall, briefly greeting guests with a nod of the head. which is why he stands out like a sore thumb—arctic white hair, designer blue suit and a piercing gaze.

but that gaze doesn’t fool you. the dragon sovereign is probably pondering on retiring for the night and is only still present to keep up with appearances.

“yes, lady y/n?” it’s to nobody’s surprise that he heard you from metres away.

when he turns around, your eyes immediately land on the problem you’ve sensed since you returned from the dancefloor.

“your tie,” you reply, standing in front of his figure, nonchalantly raising your hands in preparation to adjust the garment. “will you allow me to fix it?”

the gears in neuvillette’s mind pause abruptly at your question. he certainly has no problem readjusting his own tie. his hands aren’t holding anything else other than his cup of water—which he can definitely put down on a nearby table!

but why can’t he bring himself to say no?

the ‘of course’ leaves his lips faster than he would have liked, but that’s no matter, your expression shows no sign of displeasure. instead, he watches your sweet smile brighten.

when your fingers reach the tie, neuvillette notices how you tiptoe to reach him. so he does what any normal person would do—he leans down.

it catches you off guard, the tips of your fingers just slightly grazing against his neck in the process. you profusely apologise in whispers to which neuvillette can only chuckle at.

“it is no trouble lady y/n, i appreciate the kind gesture.” the corner of neuvillette’s lips curve, his hands neatly tucked behind him as he allows you to redo his tie.

neuvillette’s lips only seem to further break into a smile as he watches you pat on the tie in completion.

“there, all finished.” you look up at the iudex, chuckling, “you ought to learn how to do this yourself.”

neuvillette hums, “perhaps you could teach me.” he takes your hand, gently brushing his lips against your knuckles before kissing it. “but for now a dance shall suffice, would you care to join me?”

[quiltedthunder]

The issue with music is I go oho a song I want to listen to and then I queue 17 like boy you need to sleep

[mangher-a]

oho time to find images of muses and what not again to fill my queue up

[prismatic-cannon]

here’s some OC and D&D commissions i’ve done! thanks ever so much to fyona, @trainerakemi and sam for the opportunity to bring their wonderful characters to life 💖

(commission info can be found here!)

[ahogedetective]

"Well if it isn't the little detective.Am i really that addictive for you to chase me through the whole world?"

The mafia boss said looking up at him with a simple smile on her face,every single one of her men holding a gun in their hand.

"Well, considering I made a promise that I would be the one to apprehend you, Elise-san... I suppose you could say that. No matter how long, nor far I will have to chase you... I'll do it."

Of course, Shuichi was not reckless. In a room full of armed men, he wouldn't dare make any sudden movements that could get him killed. But he also refused to be scared off, after how much work it already took to track her down. "The incident that happened last night at that private party...you were responsible for that, weren't you? How many more innocent people do you intend to get caught in the crossfires of whatever rivalry you have with other gangs?"

[toalternate]

          “...Good    people    do    BAD    THINGS.    Bad    people     do    GOOD    THINGS.    It’s    normal.    It’s    syn-synergy...?    Right...?     That’s    how    it     works.    Good    people   can   do    bad    things.    Good    people    can   do    BAD    THINGS...”            Signing    to   herself,   hands   fluently    say    ‘good,    bad’,    over    and    over    again,    until    finally:             “...Then    why    do     I    feel    like    GARBAGE?”

         @spitetm​       call.

[ryehouses]

Boba PoV request (now they have thier own special fic and all) anything to do with his pool / bath / oasis please 😍

OHO ASK AND RECEIVE, MY GOOD FRIEND, YEAH I'VE GOT SOME STUFF FROM BOBA'S FANCY TATOOINE JACUZZI.

i also have been really good about revision this week, so i do have a different pov set up to post in the queue once a day for the next week or so, thank you all for your patience, i love you, et cetera et cetera.

this snippet is set during chapter 19, "pirun," and features some flirting, some introspection and some ~~boba angst. enjoy!

in which a conversation has more edges than usual.

 

Din took to the bath like a karking colo claw fish took to a pond full of minnows. He teased Boba a little about the extravagance of building a bath like this first, of course – apparently, Din’s people didn’t believe in indulgences, but Boba’d learned a bit about Din’s people these last few weeks, and he’d decided that he didn’t particularly care what they thought anyway. 

Life in the desert is hard, Boba thought, surrounded on all sides by warm water. This bath – a pool, really, a little oasis that Boba had carved carefully out of the depths of the palace, once he’d managed to get rid of the scum and sludge that Jabba had left behind – was fed by the palace’s aquifer, the water clear and clean. It was naturally cold, like most of the oases that dotted the Great Dune Sea, but Jabba’d been a creature of expensive tastes and he hadn’t thought twice about installing temperature controls beneath the pool to warm the water to his liking. 

Boba hadn’t liked Jabba much, but as he swam deeper into the pool, warm water lapping at his sides, he couldn’t help but agree with the old worm, just a little. 

Life in the desert is hard, Boba thought. There’s no reason to make it any harder by denying myself a little bit of pleasure. A little bit of comfort. 

Cleaning the artificial oasis up had taken some time. Jabba’d done his best to make it a perfect replica of a weekoona, a Nal Hutta wallow. The smell, after said weekoona had been locked up and left alone in the five or six years between Jabba’s death and Bib Fortuna’s, had nearly knocked Boba back on his shebs, the first time he’d opened the door. 

Now, though, the pool was closer to what Boba could remember of a wahat, a Tusken oasis. Dappled light softened the edges of the room and Ushib had gifted Boba with long mashoo reeds and a few hardy tamur trees, hardy thorntooths and even a long, trailing safi tree. Now the room smelled of clean water and growing plants, damp and earth and safe. 

Boba swam out into the middle of the pool, confident that Din would follow him. When he reached the center, Boba stopped swimming and stood, the water lapping against his chest. The bottom of the pool was textured, so Boba didn’t have to fight to stand. The warmth eased some of his old aches and pains, took pressure off of his sore knee; Din had tackled Boba pretty hard last night, and while it hadn’t hurt at the time, adrenaline and the fierce joy of a good night blocking out something as insignificant as a bruised knee, Boba was too old now to wake up the morning after a spar spry and free of pain. 

Din kept swimming, circling Boba easily. He didn’t struggle in the water, which was a pleasant surprise – Boba hadn’t been sure if Din knew how to swim. Mandalorians in general didn’t have much use for it. Mandalore’s waters had been poisoned for a long time, and swimming in beskar was difficult at best. 

But Din, always a surprise, could swim well enough to circle Boba, his shoulders working smoothly in the water. Boba was content to stay where he was and just watch Din. Watching Din had become something of a hobby. 

Another indulgence, Boba thought wryly. 

Despite the flogging he’d taken last night, Din moved easily. Out of his armor, Din was pale. He’d started to get a bit more color on his face and his neck, now that he went around the palace without his helmet sometimes, but the rest of him was usually hidden from the suns. He never left the tower that housed Boba’s rooms without his beskar’gam. 

Like Boba, Din was mostly made up of scar tissue. None of Din’s scars were as extensive as Boba’s – Din, at least, had not ever had the bad karking luck to end up in a sarlacc’s mouth – but he still had more than a few. Some of them, like the shiny, pink weal of a blaster burn scored across one of Din’s biceps or the white, straight slash of a knife against Din’s ribs, were easy to identify. Others, like a tangled knot of scar tissue underneath Din’s right shoulder or the uneven web of raised skin on the outside of one of Din’s thighs, were harder to guess at. 

For a man who’s always covered in armor, he’s got a lot of ink, Boba thought. Din had all manner of faded tattoos, most of them softened to a bluish color with time. Boba liked tracing them almost as much as he liked tracing Din’s scars. Din didn’t tolerate the contact well outside of a flogging, but after a flogging he leaned into every touch, and seemed to like the repetitive motion of Boba following each branch of the wroshyr tree tattooed around Din’s bicep or the bui’tsad symbols on his back. 

“Where’d you learn how to swim?” Din asked, still cutting gracefully through the water. Ripples lapped at Boba’s belly, his chest, as warm as a hand. “Not here, probably.” 

Boba smiled. Tuskens didn’t swim, even though most of them had at least on oasis on their tuskbal. Even tribes that had rivers moving beneath their sands stayed out of the water. 

“No,” Boba said, weighing his answer in his head. He hadn’t brought Din down here with the intention of talking much. 

It’s Din, though, he thought. Getting Din to talk about anything was a bit like trying to get a krayt dragon to give up its pearl. If he wanted to talk now, Boba could probably put up with a little discomfort. Maybe talking a little would put Din at ease, make him easier to persuade later. Boba’d come down here with a few ideas for how he’d like to spend the rest of the morning, but all of them were indulgent and Mandalorians like Din, as a general rule, treated indulgence like most other beings treated a live concussion grenade.

No, talking to Din here wasn’t going to hurt anything. It might even help deepen the trust between Din and Boba both. 

Despite that, Boba hesitated. He’d learned to swim the same way he had learned most things – from his father. Boba never talked about his father, not if he could help it. Jango Fett occupied a peculiar place in Boba’s memory. Boba’d call it a scar, like the ones decorating Din’s back and sides, the scars on Boba’s hands, the back of his neck, except scars were wounds that had healed, and what had happened to Jango never had. 

It’s not like Djar’ika means any harm, though, thought Boba. Din was looking at him expectantly now, his face open and honest and utterly without malice. He didn’t know what he was doing, prodding at old, raw wounds. Din had trusted Boba with a lot, these last few days. He had followed Boba into the water. Boba could trust him with this. It’d only hurt a little. The wound was old enough. 

“No,” Boba repeated, tucking his thoughts away in favor of watching the long lines of Din’s body. “Not here. I – the planet I grew up on was an ocean world. Kamino. Ever hear of it?” 

Predictably, Din shook his head. He hadn’t slipped all the way under the water yet and Boba kind of wanted to reach out and dunk him, just to see what kind of face Din would make when he surfaced. He held off, for now. 

I can always dunk him if this conversation gets too serious, Boba thought. I brought him down here to have some fun, after all. 

“The entire planet was water,” Boba said, reaching back through his memory for Kamino. His home world – in so much as he had one – was always there for him, easy to reach and touch and recall. Salt air, driving rain, the stark hallways of Tipoca City. A rumble at night that could have been Jango’s voice or a peal of far-off thunder. 

“It – I didn’t learn how to swim in the ocean,” Boba continued. The water had always been too rough. Boba could count the number of calm, clear, sunny days he’d seen on Kamino on one hand. 

Din didn’t interrupt. As always, his rapt attention – the way that Din looked at Boba, wholly focused, like Boba was a star that Din orbited – made it easier to talk to him than it should have been. 

“There were too many storms,” Boba said. If he closed his eyes, he could still see them. Thick, heavy clouds and gashes of lightning. Rain drumming down on the walls like soldiers marching. “But my dad thought that I should learn, so I did. There were – training facilities there. Kamino trained soldiers. They could conjure up just about any environment that you could imagine. Dad taught me how to swim in a pool like this one.” 

Boba gestured at the room around them. The mashoo reeds rustled, stirred by a current of air moving from one room to another. He could remember one of his father’s big hands pressed against Boba’s chest, then small and thin and unscarred. Jango’s voice as he held Boba’s head out of the water. 

“He’d turn the bubbler on when I got bigger, so I could practice swimming against resistance.” 

Swimming lessons in beskar’gam probably would’ve followed, if Jango had lived. He’d wanted to prepare Boba for anything. Being able to swim when most other beings had expected Boba to sink like a karking stone had been pretty useful, over the years. Jango’d been oddly prescient like that. He had known that the galaxy was not kind and had tried to anticipate anything and everything that Boba might have come up against. 

Except for the sarlacc, Boba thought, pulling away from the wound in his heart that was his father. Nobody could prepare for the sarlacc. 

“Oh,” Din said, floating now instead of actively swimming, bobbing just out of reach. The bruises from the flogger curled around his shoulders, his hips. Boba wanted to touch them. “I think I learned how to swim on my home planet too. I remember… hands. My father’s hands, I think.” 

A pang went through Boba’s ribs at that. Din’s voice was soft. He spent too much time underneath his helmet to hide what he was thinking or feeling, and Boba could track his memories as they flashed across his face. 

His home world? Boba wondered, curious. He’d never asked Din where he’d come from. Boba had assumed that it had been Mandalore, or one of Mandalore’s outpost worlds. Concordia, maybe, or Kalevala, since Din had known Bo-Katan Kryze. 

An odd sense of kinship, of likeness, itched underneath Boba’s skin. He wasn’t sure he cared much for the feeling. Boba was used to being – singular. Genetically he was one of millions, but no one was like Boba. Fennec was like enough that she and Boba understood each other without words, but Din – 

He’s Mandalorian, Boba reminded himself, sternly. I’m not. We’re not – we might share some things in our pasts, but we’re not the same. Boba needed to remember that. He needed to remember that Din was his own man, that what he wanted and needed wasn’t the same thing that Boba wanted and needed. 

We can help each other, but I need to remember that this – the closeness deepening between Boba and Din with every passing week, the affection that grew and grew in Boba’s chest, the way he’d felt looking at Din last night, after Din’d slammed his forehead into Boba’s chin, their blood mingling together – is an arrangement, for Din. He’s here to get what he needs. He’s not here to – to –

“Our village would flood during the rainy season,” Din continued, still swimming. Boba wrenched his thoughts away. Thinking about what Boba couldn’t have was likely to open another wound in his chest, and Boba had enough of those already. “When the rains passed, we’d swim out to the fields and look for anything that the rains had left behind.” 

So he’s not from Concordia, then, Boba thought. That moon had been almost as barren as Mandalore. “Where are you from?” he asked, curiously. 

Din shrugged. “I don’t remember,” he said, and Boba could see the honesty in his face. Din had just about as much guile as a baby tooka, which was to say that he had no guile in him at all. It was – refreshing. Charming, though Boba was still doing his best to avoid thinking about Din that way. Din wasn’t trying to be charming. He was just trying to be himself. 

Don’t take more than you’re being offered, shabuir, Boba reminded himself. He had a responsibility to Din. Din was trusting him to uphold it. Had trusted Boba, with his vulnerability. With his pain. 

“Somewhere in the Outer Rim, I think,” Din said. He shook his head a little and gestured at the water. “The older warriors kept teaching us kids how to swim whenever we lived somewhere that had enough water.” 

Boba could understand that. Not every aliit had been welcome on Mandalore in its waning days, in the days of Satine Kryze, and fewer still had been welcome after Gar Saxon had sold the planet out to the Empire. Many clans had been forced into hiding. 

Twenty years ago, when Boba’d been younger – angrier – he’d been almost pleased, about that. He’d never had anywhere safe to lay low for longer than a month or two, not after he’d left Kamino for good, not after Geonosis. 

Why should any of the cowards who abandoned my dad get to be safe? he’d thought at the time. 

Now, though, Boba looked at Din – at a Mandalorian – and wished that Din hadn’t been forced to leave his homeworld, wherever it had been. No kid deserved to grow up the way Boba and Din had grown up, always on the run. 

Kark, Boba thought. Maybe I did go soft, in the sarlacc’s belly. Maybe the acid had eaten away more than Boba’s hair, than the skin across his shoulders, the backs of his hands. 

“You live in a lot of places?” Boba asked, curious despite his better judgment to learn just how similar a childhood he and Din had had. Din had a lot of the skills that young drifters tended to pick up. He spoke several languages. He flew ships with ease. He ate quickly and always cleaned his plate. He was skittish, sometimes, and when Boba flogged Din out of his own head Din was skin-hungry and shy, uncertain, like he half-expected to be shoved away instead of pulled close. 

“Yeah,” Din said, easily enough. He wasn’t shy or uncertain now, was comfortable in Boba’s presence, and Boba counted that as a victory. “Did you?” 

He’d swum farther away than Boba wanted him to be. Boba pushed off of his feet and followed, parting the water easily. Din, sometimes just as playful as he was shy, didn’t move away. 

“Yes,” Boba said honestly, after thinking about it for a moment. He’d lived across half of the karking galaxy, really; after Geonosis, the longest Boba had stayed in any one place had been the year or so he’d spent in prison. 

“And no,” he added. “Mostly I lived on the ship, once I got it back.” 

Hyperspace had been safer for Boba than Tatooine or Nar Shaddaa or Corellia. When he hadn’t been able to pass days in a hyperlane, sailing from one side of the galaxy to the other, Boba’d spent weeks anchored in asteroid belts, leaving only to earn enough credits for the next meal, for the next canister of hyperfuel. 

Din bobbed a little closer, his expression thoughtful. He looked better, these days. When he’d first come back to Tatooine, Din – Djarin, then, an ally but nothing more – had been worn and haunted, his face thin and pale and creased with pain. 

A few months of Ushib’s cooking had filled Din back out, and he was at least sleeping some. He’d slept in Boba’s bed last night, his body warm and familiar. Boba himself was a light sleeper, but he hadn’t felt Din so much as twitch last night. 

Din had even cut his hair at some point, the ends of it now damp and clinging to his neck. These days he looked less like a stray akk dog and more like a treasured massif, sleek and powerful and always ready for a hunt. 

Looking at Din made affection bloom behind Boba’s ribcage. Affection was dangerous. Was too close to what Boba had felt for Din last night, looking at him across the makeshift sparring ring, too close to something that Boba didn’t have a name for, didn’t know what to do with, didn’t know how to use. 

But Boba couldn’t quite manage to make himself crush that feeling of affection. Pulling away now, he thought, would hurt Din. Boba didn’t want to hurt him. 

Din, catching Boba looking at him, blushed a little, color creeping down his neck, across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Boba had traced that blush with his tongue last night. He wanted to chase it again. 

“What?” Din asked, dipping his chin deeper into the water. 

Boba smiled. “Nothing,” he said. As much fun as it would be be to reel Din in, to call him Djar’ika, to kiss him, Boba had come down here with an idea of how he wanted to spend his morning, and it was probably safer than letting himself entertain ideas of – of intimacy, maybe, with Din Djarin. 

Affection was one thing. So was fondness. But anything deeper than that – 

Anything more, Boba thought, is outside of what we agreed. 

So Boba said, “Nothing,” and flicked a bit of water at Din to reassure him. The urge to dunk Din all the way in the water rose again. “I’m just thinking,” he said. The tips of Din’s ears, still above water, stayed stubbornly red. 

Din had been willing to try just about everything that Boba had suggested, so far. Boba’d brought a few things down from his rooms. He’d had an idea last night, after the flogging, as he’d been soothing Din, carding his fingers through Din’s hair. As Din’s beard had scraped roughly against Boba’s face. 

He’s been willing to try everything, even a flogger, Boba reasoned. He’d probably be willing to indulge me in this, too. 

“I’ve got something I’d like to try, if you’re interested,” Boba said. He kept his tone light, trying not to spook Din while the other man was naked and slippery. This pool was a big one – if Din decided to be hard to catch, Boba would be after him for a while. 

Din didn’t bolt, but he did narrow his eyes. “What is it?” he asked. 

Boba grinned. He’d never guess. “Trust me,” he said. “You’ll enjoy it, I think.” So far Din had only enjoyed a bit of pampering – a bit of care – after Boba had literally beaten him into submission, but Boba held out hope that Din’s indulgence would extend even this far. 

“You just need to wait here for a minute,” Boba added. He’d brought a shaving kit down with him, just in case. It wasn’t that Boba thought that Din needed a shave. That Boba had minded the rough texture of Din’s beard. 

It is, Boba thought to himself, honestly, that I think he’d get off on being underneath a knife, if I was the one holding it, and I want to see if he trusts me that far. If he’ll surrender that far. 

Din had been vulnerable to Boba before. He’d let Boba wrap a hand around his throat. He’d let Boba bring a flogger down across his back. Had let Boba kiss him, and touch him, and fuck him, and sleep beside him. But letting Boba hold a razor to his throat – 

Boba’s heart sped up just thinking about it. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to know what Din looked like. He wanted to know what Din would let him do. 

Din’s expression was wary, but Boba knew him well enough now to catch the glint of desire – of curiosity, which was just as dangerous as desire – in his eyes. Din lifted his chin out of the water, throat flexing, and said, “What is it?” 

“Just trust me,” Boba said, still smiling. He didn’t want to spoil the surprise, and honestly he did like it when Din got a bit nervous beforehand. Those nerves made Din’s surrender, when it came, even sweeter. “You’ll enjoy it,” Boba said again, because Din would. So far Din had loved letting Boba have his way; he’d melted into it every time. “You just need to wait here for a minute.” 

Din scowled a little, annoyed that Boba hadn’t answered his question, but even here he was willing to trust Boba. A thrill of pleasure, heady and dark and as smooth as papuur’gal, licked against the bottom of Boba’s ribs. 

“Fine,” Din said, his curiosity winning against his caution. “I’ll just… float here, then.” 

Positive reinforcement had so far been the trick with Din, disarming him just as effectively as a blaster bolt to the wrist, so Boba said, “Ori’jate,” and told Din to stay put in the middle of the pool while Boba himself swam back to the edge of it. 

The water was still warm. In quieter times, Boba’d like to come down here and just float for a while, his eyes fixed on the pricks of light high above the pool. Maybe after they dealt with the Hutts he could come down here and float. It would be nice to relax. 

He didn’t want to leave Din alone for too long. Boba rarely was apart from Din these days, just like he was rarely apart from Fennec, and if he was being honest with himself, Boba didn’t mind. It was good to have people that he could trust – that trusted him – close at hand. 

He stepped out of the water when he reached the edge of the pool and quickly prepared what he would need. Boba – like Jango – was traditional. He didn’t use Kashyyyki clippers or depil cream to cut his hair or trim his beard and never had. He’d used a straight razor since he’d become a man and still used one, even though now, after his stay in a sarlacc’s belly, Boba didn’t have any hair on his head and could only grow his beard in patches. 

Getting ready took only a minute, maybe too, and then Boba was back in the water. Anticipation made it easy to set some of Boba’s thoughts, some of his doubts, his wariness about letting Din get too close, about getting to close to him in return, aside.  

Boba swam back to Din, who was now floating on his back in the warm water, moving just enough to stay afloat. His belly and chest didn’t have as many bruises as his back did. Near his hips he still carried faint, crescent nail-marks, where Boba had taken him by the hips. A bruise spanned part of Din’s side where Boba’d crashed into him while they had wrestled. But that was it. 

Boba wanted to leave Din with a few more bruises. Wanted to run his tongue over a silvery scar at the bottom of Din’s ribcage, to press a kiss to the pulse Boba could see jumping in Din’s throat, wanted more. 

I’ll start small, he thought, almost near enough again to touch Din. 

Din, sensing that Boba was near again, righted himself, turning to face Boba. His expression was open and relaxed, trusting; some of the stress Din had carried with him over the last few weeks – kark, last night, when he’d returned from Mos Entha without finding his kin – had been worn away. 

Desire cooled in Boba’s belly. There was no reason to rush anything. Din didn’t need to be devoured right here, right now; Boba could take his time. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Boba asked, crowding into Din’s space. Din righted himself, standing up again, water sloshing between their bodies, but didn’t pull away. 

“It is nice,” Din admitted. He blinked at Boba, his expression still open. If they’d been up in Boba’s rooms, Boba might have called him cyar’yc. Sweet. At their closeness Din’s expression faltered, some of that shyness or that wariness kicking in, but Boba didn’t want Din to pull away and reached out to stop him. He took Din by the chin, loose enough that Din could pull away, if he wanted to, but tight enough that Boba could feel Din’s pulse leap against his thumb. 

He kept that thumb against the corner of Din’s jaw, his palm against Din’s chin, and tucked his fingers against Din’s throat. Din’s beard tickled Boba’s skin. Like Boba, Din had bare patches here and there, skin smooth where no hair had grown, but unlike Boba, Din’s face was mostly free of scars. The only one he had was that line between his eyes, only really visible up close. 

Din had split his face open against another Mandalorian’s helmet, he’d said. A mirshmure’cya. A brain-kiss. 

Warmth lit up Boba’s belly. He told himself that it was just the water. 

“What are you doing?” Din asked, though he didn’t fight Boba’s hand. 

Boba smiled at him. “I’m thinking,” he said. He tilted Din’s face to the side, still gentle enough, and Din let him. Din’s wet curls clung to his cheeks, to the nape of his neck, to his forehead, and his skin was warm and damp. 

“About?” Din asked. Boba felt his pulse pick up, hammering harder against Boba’s thumb. 

Din and Boba had promised each other honesty, when they were together like this. Boba knew that they’d blurred some of the lines between them, had started to spend perhaps too much time in each other’s company, had started to fail to keep their arrangement separate from their feelings, from their lives, from their business together, but here in this warm pool, fed by fresh water, decorated with rare plants, a testament to Jabba’s indulgences and to Boba’s too, since he’d restored the karking thing, Boba couldn’t bring himself to care much about how bad of an idea this all could turn out to be. How close he’d let Din get. The knife that Boba had put in Din’s hands and aimed at Boba’s belly. 

Life, he thought, in the desert is hard. There’s no reason to make it any harder by denying myself a little bit of pleasure. 

Boba told Din the truth. “I think,” he said, looking Din in the eye, “that I want to kiss you.”

[xxghost-zombie-jesus]

I was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this:

Beej causing chaos around the house, and the Maitlands discovering what is, essentially, his off switch: his hair. Like, one of them runs a hand through it and he just goes limp immediately.

No pressure to write it or anything but I've had this idea and figured it'd be better off out in the world than just sitting in my brain doing nothing 🕺

👀 👀 👀 👀 👀 oh??? I like this idea. I really like this idea. big ol' cat beej vibes from this idea.

thank you for the prompt!!! it's been added to the list and i'll start working on it asap! oho this one's gonna be fun. it'll prolly be posted to ao3 before it's posted here bc this blog runs off a queue, but if you'd like i'll send the link directly to you once it is posted so you can read it?

[pukaparade]

Hello everyone!

The semi-secret project I was working on is finally up for pre-order!

It’s a Les Mis Fanbook subtitled “Revolution”! You can follow it at the blog here - https://revolutionfanbook.tumblr.com/

And pre-order it here ! - 

 http://lmrfanbook.bigcartel.com/

Thank you for checking it out! Everyone worked really hard on their pieces and I’m really excited to get the physical book in! *___*

For now, have a preview of my piece~

[variks-the-warden]

OHO IT IS OVER NOW

Now that ive found the quick-queue setting my posts will never stop

[nulltune]

when i see you on my dash i get these aggressive dokis and i simply don't know what to do with them 🥺🥺 please take responsibility for the dokis you be causing!!

heh..... all according to plan >:) FDKVJDJDBNO IM NOT SUAVE LIKE THAT UBUBUBUU IM JUST A WEIRD LIDDOL WORM ON DASH??? AAAA THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY TO HEAR THO JOOO 😭😭😭🥺❤️❤️💖💖💞💘 ngl i feel so cringefail @ myself so i Need to use the queue when i post otherwise i'd shrivel up and die shgjdb but SRSLY TYSM!!!! it means a lot 🥺❤️ i h8 my schedule these days bc i rarely see u ;__; BUT ANY TIME I DO, KNOW THAT IT IS DA SAME FOR ME !!! always a treat 2 see ur lovely writing ic or just ur lovely self ooc <333 MMMM FOR THE DOKIS- oho what's this, i see that the only way to cure em would be to interact with snailynn (me) more! 😳💞 andddd also to stay plenty hydrated and have a great day bc that's what u deserve!!!! <- official prescription doctor lynn ✨️✨️

[ruanbaijie]

I was tagged in a few games! thanks everyone for tagging hehe (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

playlist tag game

tagged by: @merelhyn 

rules: we’re snooping in your playlist. put your entire music library on shuffle and list the first ten songs (including music only stuff like OSTs as well as songs) and then choose 10 victims. 

Total number of tracks: 1.5k+

minne - oonagh ft. santiano

rise (instrumental & voice yellings) - the glitch mob, the world alive

夜曲 nocturne - 周杰伦 jay chou

april 1945 - steven price (from fury)

run - awolnation

summer paradise - simple plan ft. sean paul

party - clint mansell (from reqiuem for a dream)

学不会 can’t learn - 香香 xiang xiang (from princess agents 楚乔传)

i wanna be - stance punks (from soul eater)

atlas - thomas j. bergersen (two steps from hell)

yeah... my itunes is a mess

-

get to know me

tagged by: @yiling-recesses 

Why did you choose your url?

Any side-blogs? If you have them, name them and why you have them

admin for mdzsnet and priestnet

my old mika--82 as a redirect

a bunch of others to save URLs heeehehehehehe (related to 2ha, yuwu, poyun) (¯▿¯) 

How long have you been on tumblr?

this blog has been active since 18 october 2010 I think

Do you have a queue tag?

#luQiao in honour of these idiots

Why did you start your blog in the first place?

I honestly can’t remember.... I think my friends were talking about it and I was like what’s tumblr??? and yeah haven’t looked back since

Why did you choose you icon/pfp?

mdzsnet’s 3k icon pack with my loves @fengqing​ and @paulyubin​ together we are chicken boy, turnip boy, and sweets boy (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡

Why did you choose you header?

I was making a rainbow set for tgcf and I just thought that particular gif looked nice as a header

What’s your post with the most notes?

lan zhan looking at wei ying - an emotional journey

How many people do you follow?

282

Have you ever made a shitpost?

OHO yes ofc the ones I can remember at the top of my head are the manipulate mansplain malewife ones for cql and shl

How often do you use tumblr?

um.

Did you have a fight/argument with a blog once? who won?

nope

How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this post’?

what’s that?

Do you like tag games?

yes!

Do you like ask games?

yes! if I get over the anxiety of people not sending any ask in that is

Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

@fengqing​ @highwarlockkareena​ @minmoyu​ @mylastbraincql​ @zhouszishu​ @yesdramas​ 

Do you have a crush on a mutual?

nope

-

phone photo meme game

tagged by: @vishcount​

rules: choose one picture from ur camera roll without downloading to sum up your personality and then tag 5 ppl

the first one: courtesy of ru

and because I couldn’t just choose one, here’s a second that says “laughing while tears are flowing” which is very relatable

tagging (no pressure, and feel free to pick which game you wanna do ahaha): @wangxiansmelody @wangxianbunnydoodles @aheartfullofjolllly @icaxrus @blinkplnk @xie-wang @jengarie @unforth @lapetitepedestre​ @suibianjie​ 

[has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong]

Gilgamesh's Bizarre McDonalds Adventure

A short story about Gilgamesh's first experience at McDonalds. A great adventure ensues!!!

It was a blistering hot day within the city; golden rays of sunlight beaming overhead. As Gilgamesh made his way through the bustling masses of humans surrounding his resplendent visage, he caught sight of a rather mundane building, with sparkling golden arches attached to it. Although its architecture was bland- if not entirely disappointing for the king-he appreciated their logo.

"Hoh, what an amusing use of gold that is!" Perching his Gucci brand sunglasses on the bridge of his perfectly-shaped nose, curiosity danced a merry jig within his heart. He would check out this location, poste-haste!

Seas of passers-by split in two, as they gazed in awe at the fashionable king of heroes, mouths agape with wonder. As Gilgamesh soaked within the ecstasy of receiving such arduous attention, he trooped inside of the local McDonalds. He was a man on a mission. As he gazed upon the glowing boards, and begrudgingly joined the queue; he formulated an order within his mind.

'Although one such as I should have no need to wait, I shall exercise patience for now.' Gilgamesh was much more patient than some would perceive him to be. Although he possessed disdain for the laws of the mongrels, he would sometimes abide to them.

Finally. The queue had ever-so-rightfully dispersed, finally giving him the chance to make an order! As Gilgamesh glided towards the counter, his gleaming red orbs widened with horror. Bright orange hair, golden eyes, and a worn-out expression...

Standing right before him was none other than his master, Gudako.

"Hello, how may I collect your order- HOLY SHIT!" Ruby red eyes gazed into amber ones; confusion etched upon both of their faces. "G-GILGAMESH?! WHY ARE YOU AT MCDONALDS?!"

"Heh, you've asked a good question, mongrel," Plonking his arm upon Gudako's worktop, he leans forward; eyes gleaming. "It was nothing but a mere coincidence! Places as inferior as these don't usually garner my attention, but..."

"...You liked the golden arches of the logo, didn't you?" Gudako couldn't help but crack a grin at that.

"You know your king well." It took all of Gudako's strength to stop herself from bursting out into laughter from that.

Lowering her cap so that Gilgamesh couldn't catch her befuddled expression, she sighs. "But to think we'd meet when I'm on shift! That's a funny coincidence."

"If only I had known sooner. I would've taken great pleasure in extorting my connection with you to obtain an endless supply of nuggets!" Realization dawned upon Gilgamesh, as he snapped his fingers. "On that note. I shan't dally any further. Bring me two units of 20-piece chicken nuggets, Gudako!"

"Understood." It took Gudako a monumental amount of effort to stop herself from laughing at the sheer absurdity of this situation. On average, she found him to be utterly frightening; but during times such as these, he was quite fun to be around.

"That'll be USD $10-" A massive golden bar smashed against the counter, as the surrounding customers' eyes popped out of their sockets. "...I only asked for $10..." No matter how many times Gudako tried to pass the gold bar back, Gilgamesh vehemently refused. "B-but, Gilgamesh...W-we can't melt gold at McDonalds, you know..."

"And why should I care? This gold bar is for nobody but you. Take that as payment for providing me with such ample entertainment." Gilgamesh deviously winked as he left the counter, leaving an array of gobsmacked staff and customers behind. "Despite being in such a drab location; today's customer service was well beyond my expectations!!" As he went to collect his order- as fellow staff yelled and cheered as they crowded around the gold- Gudako desperately desired to be swallowed up by the ground.

'W-what the hell...' Gilgamesh really did march to the beat of his own drum sometimes...

|o|

Confidentially cradling two boxes of nuggets within his arms, Gilgamesh was about to make his way towards his seat; until a small figure bashed against his leg.

'Of all the godforsaken things to happen-' Gilgamesh was fully prepared to eviscerate the being who would dare to collide with his leg. However, he rescinded once he caught sight of what it was.

"M-my chicken nuggets...." It was none other than a small child, their nuggets splayed across the floor. "My poor nuggets..." As the child began to burst into tears, Gilgamesh crouched besides them.

"Mongrel." Gilgamesh commanded their attention instantly, as they spun to face him. "You should employ the utmost of caution when traipsing around places such as these." Feeling ashamed, the kid was about to burst into tears again, until Gilgamesh softly placed a hand on their shoulders; his expression warm. "Shh, there's no need to cry."

"B-but sire, my nuggets...They're the highlight of my day..."

"Hoh, is that so?" As the kid nodded their head, the king cackled with laughter. "You possess rather fine tastebuds, young one. Well then, shall I pay you with some nuggets in reparation?" The kid's eyes leapt with joy, as Gilgamesh passed him an entire box of nuggets. "Now, be off."

The kid happily yelled 'thank you!' as they waved and ran back to their table. Although Gilgamesh was a little pained to be passing with his nuggets, he didn't mind lending the child a hand.

However, he wouldn't have to mourn his nuggets for long! Not too soon after, another staff member passed him a new 20 pack of nuggets. "Here you go. The boy's parent wanted to give you a peace offering or something-" Before the staff could finish speaking, Gilgamesh randomly thrust a $10 dollar bill into their hand. "W-whoa, what's this?"

"Your tip. Take it."

It looked like he'd still get to eat 40 nuggets, after all.

|o|

As he finally located an empty table situated by the window, a set of very familiar figures assaulted his vision. A bespectacled purple-haired girl, a man decked in a cursed Hawaiian T-shirt, another character with spiky white hair; and a radiant, red-haired woman were all seated together, sharing a vast array of fast food.

"Oho, look who the cat decided to drag in here today!" Gilgamesh all but exclaimed, as he smirked at the unlucky bundle of servants.

"...I could say the exact same thing." Archer sighed, as he shifted as far away from Gilgamesh as possible, as Mash dropped her fries into her milkshake in shock- Boudicca almost choking on her burger.

"G-geh, Gilgamesh? What the hell are you doing here?!" Lancer Cu's face contorted with displeasure. "Of all the fucking people to appear..."

"And why should I satisfy you with an answer, mongrel?" Gilgamesh's response elicited nothing but sighs. "Let me hazard a guess- that faker over there is the reason why you're all gathered here today."

"That's just like you, to ask us for an answer; without providing one of your own. How classy of you." Archer was practically radiating with sarcasm. Before the two of them could start an argument, Mash cut in.

"Yes, we decided to give Gudako a surprise visit today!" Mash all but beamed. "I'm glad to see senpai working so hard at her job." As her and Boudica openly explained their motives to the king, Archer sighed.

At this rate, he'd never be rid of Gilgamesh.

TO BE CONTINUED....(lmao its only a parody fic)