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aceghosts · 3 years

Text

A Valentine's Day Surprise

Rating: T

Summary: An idea comes to Hurk. A real good one, and man, Sharky really is a fucking genius at this kind of stuff. “Hold on, I think I’ve got something. You ready for Team Shurky to kick ass at Valentine’s Day?” He holds out his fist to bump with Sharky’s.

Hurk and Sharky plan a surprise Valentine's Day for Maeve.

Warnings: Just canon typical violence. This is mainly tooth-rotting fluff so no real warnings are needed. Let me know if I need to tag for anything.

Words: 3,786 words.

Ships: Deputy Maeve Holly/Hurk Drubman Jr.

Author's Note: This is 1 of 2 gifts for @farcrying for the Far Cry Valentine Event, hosted by @i-am-the-balancing-point! I really hope you enjoy this; I had a lot of fun writing this oneshot. Also, shout out to @johnnycranes, @scungilliwoman, and @chyrstis for looking this over! I really appreciate it, and I can't thank you guys enough.

AO3 Link

Hurk stares down at the stuffed brown bear in his hand. The small bear holds a red heart in its paws with the following words etched in white: “I love you beary much!”. He thinks of Maeve and maybe, he’ll bring it back to her, a small gift for the best lady in his life. “Hey Cuz, what you looking at?” Sharky asks loudly, approaching Hurk with a case of beer in one hand and his shotgun in the other.

“Just thinking about Maeve, man. Thinkin’ about bringing her a gift,’ He holds up the small bear, ‘You think she would like this?” Looking for some leftover beer, Hurk and Sharky decided to pick through an abandoned gas station. Judging by the bloodstains, it looked like the Peggies had dragged the owner out of here, and he wouldn’t be coming back for a LONG time.

Sharky nods. “Chicks always dig the cute stuff!” He pauses for a moment. “Hey, you and Maeve never celebrated Valentine’s Day together!” Sharky is right; Maeve and Hurk met well after Valentine’s day. It was also September, which meant that they wouldn’t be celebrating Valentine’s day for several months. Who knew what could happen between then and now?

“Yeah, man. Would’ve been cool to do something extra special for my Lady. I would have taken her out to dinner, gotten her all the best beer, put on some mood music…” Hurk trails off, the fantasy of a perfect Valentine’s Day playing out in his head.

“Well, what's stopping us?”

Hurk raises an eyebrow. “Sharky, it isn’t-.”

“So, what? Yeah, it ain’t the day, but no one said we couldn’t use another one. Ya know, a replacement, like in the movies! C’mon man, think about what we could do for the Dep! Think about how much fun she’d have!”

He blinks. “Sharky, you are a genius! Man, I missed having you around; we’re such a good team!” This was going to be awesome. Now, they were just going to have to plan the whole thing and keep it away from Maeve. “What do you think we should do?”

Sharky thinks for a moment. “Chicks dig fancy dinners! So how about you take her out somewhere nice?”

“What about a night at the Spread Eagle? You think she’d be down for something like that?”

“Nah,’ Sharky waves him off, ‘Not nice enough. What about a picnic?”

An idea comes to Hurk. A real good one, and man, Sharky really is a fucking genius at this kind of stuff. “Hold on, I think I’ve got something. You ready for Team Shurky to kick ass at Valentine’s Day?” He holds out his fist to bump with Sharky’s.

Shifting his shotgun under his arm, Sharky bumps Hurk’s fist, a wide grin on his face. As they pull away, the two mimic explosions. “You know it, Hurk! Team Shurky is going to kick major ass!”

—

Maeve smooths down her light blue top, taking in a deep breath as she stares into the mirror. She can’t help feeling nervous as she looks over her outfit one last time: a tank top, black jeans, and brown boots. Hurk sounded excited over the radio, even more than when blowing something up or talking about the Monkey King. Sharky, who normally couldn’t keep secrets to save his life, managed to keep this one, no matter how sweetly Maeve asked. That left Maeve waiting and wondering what Hurk and Sharky had in store for her, but before long she hears that familiar yell. Hurk’s outside calling out to her, and there’s an excitement there that has her feeling the same even with her stomach twisting into knots. With one last glance in the mirror, Maeve knows it is time to see what these two have planned.

Exiting out the front door of Fort Drubman into the warm Montana sun, Maeve’s blue eyes widen in surprise at the sight before her. Leading from the door of Fort Drubman to Nancy, Sr.’s beloved truck, lays a red carpet with wildflower petals scattered on the ground. Hurk and Sharky stand by the back passenger door of the truck, both wearing white dress shirts, black tuxedo jackets, and red bowties, but the two didn’t stop there. Their shirts and jackets had no sleeves, both sets ripped off in a move that didn’t surprise Maeve at all. Even Nancy received a makeover, with pink bows and red hearts decorating the sides of the truck, and that sight alone would have made Sr. keel over of a heart attack right there.

“Your carriage awaits, milady,” Sharky announces, opening the passenger door of Nancy. He adds a little flourish, bowing as he opens the door.

Hurk walks up the front steps of Fort Drubman, smiling excitedly at Maeve. “We wanted to surprise you and give you a Valentine’s day you’ll never forget!” Her prince, in a sleeveless tux and American flag pants, holds out his hand for her to take.

“Hurk it’s not-.” Maeve stops, her cheeks heating up. She feels so overwhelmed, so touched that Sharky and Hurk would do something like this for her.

“I know, Baby, but since we didn’t get to spend last Valentine’s Day with you, we figured we make our own.” His hand drops as he looks down at her adoringly, clearly just wanting Maeve to be happy and she can’t stop herself. Maeve's hands grip the lapel of his tux, pulling him down to meet her as she rises towards him. Hurk meets her for a sweet kiss, his hands coming to rest on her hips, and she gently laughs into the kiss, overjoyed and exhilarated at this moment. One where she could stay forever, just her and Hurk.

Behind the couple, Sharky coughs loudly, giving them a ‘For Real’ look. Hurk pulls away first as Maeve releases his jacket, looking over his shoulder at his cousin. He returns his gaze to Maeve, winking mischievously at her. “Hurk, what are you-?” Hurk cuts her off, letting go of her hips and scooping Maeve up into his arms. Squeaking softly, She wraps her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life.

“We got a schedule to keep! Sharky and I have planned the MOST kick ass Valentine's Day ever!” Hurk explains as he carries Maeve down the front steps.

“You’re gonna love it! Team Shurky guarantee!” Sharky gives her a thumbs up, a lively smile on his face.

Glancing between her two boys, Maeve smiles. “I already love it!”

Booming, joyous laughter erupts from Hurk as he places Maeve down. “Your world is about to be rocked, baby!”

Sharky steps forward, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. Maeve laughs, his beard softly tickling the skin of her cheek. “Do you need help getting in, Dep?”

“I can get into Nancy myself.” She climbs into the back of Nancy, finding the two have been much busier than she previously thought. Beneath her feet are more of the wildflower petals, and as Sharky starts rolling up the red carpet, Hurk rushes to Nancy’s trunk, popping it open.

A few seconds later, Hurk returns with gifts in hand. “Flowers!” He hands her a bouquet of pastel purple wildflowers tied together with a light blue string, clearly picked with love and care.

“Oh Hurk and Sharky, these are so-“ Her throat tightens, and Maeve fights the urge to cry, overwhelmed by their thoughtfulness.

Hurk shakes his head. “Don’t cry yet, baby! We got more for you!” He hands her a red box, containing different chocolates. “Now we tried, but Sharky and I couldn’t find a heart shaped box. We-.”

“Searched all over the county!” Sharky pipes up as he carries the carpet back towards the trunk of Nancy. “You know how hard it is to find heart shaped boxes of chocolates when it ain’t even Valentine’s Day? You'd have a better chance of finding a Peggie who bathes regularly!”

Maeve laughs, holding the box of chocolates in her lap. “I imagine that it must be pretty difficult. I appreciate that you two tried to even find one.”

Hurk puffs up proudly, handing her the last gift, a stuffed bear. “This is the gift that kicked it all off, baby! It was so cute, it had me thinking of you the minute I saw it.” It’s a small chestnut-brown bear, holding a red heart with the following words inscribed on the heart: “I love you beary much!”. Sharky joins them, he and Hurk clearly nervous that she might not like the gifts.

“Thank you,” Maeve says, her throat tight again, and the warm feeling building in her chest is indescribable. Because how can she put into words just how much Hurk and Sharky mean to her?

They high five each other, grinning from ear to ear. “HELL YEAH, WE’RE KILLING VALENTINE’S DAY, CUZ!” Sharky yells excitedly.

“AND WE’RE GOING TO CONTINUE KILLING IT!” Hurk looks over at Maeve as she raises an eyebrow. What else do her boys have planned for her? “Now, Milady, your chariot will escort you to the next phase of Valentine’s Day!”

“My Chariot?” Maeve responds with a small laugh.

Hurk nods. “Sharky and I have the best day planned, baby! Just you wait and see!”

She smiles. “I have a feeling that no matter what happens this day will be one of the best!”

—

Hurk makes a right turn, pulling Nancy down one of the many unpaved, bumpy back roads of Hope County. Maeve grips her seat tightly, the road getting bumpier as the trio continues along. Hurk and Sharky, noticing that she might be a little nervous, set out to assuage her fears:

“You’re gonna love this place, babe! Like one of those scenes you’d pick out of a Calendar!”

“Yeah, Dep! No joke, it’s like something straight out of a postcard, like one of the ones Hurk sent me!”

“One of Hope County’s best kept secrets.”

“And only Hurk and I know about this place! You’ll be the third person to see it!”

Maeve smiles at them both warmly, reaching towards the front seat with her right hand. Giving Sharky’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, Maeve assures the pair, “I’m sure this place is gorgeous. You two always know the best spots.”

Hurk and Sharky share a nervous glance between each other before Hurk returns his focus to the road. A few minutes later, Hurk pulls Nancy into a clearing, and the minute they stop nervously announces, “We’re here.”

He places Nancy into park as Maeve unbuckles her seatbelt, but before she can even think about even opening the door, Sharky has already jumped out, racing over to get it for her. He pulls it open, holding out his hand for Maeve to take. “Watch your step, Dep!” He cautions as Maeve takes his warm hand in hers and gives it a gentle squeeze as Sharky helps her out of Nancy. Maeve releases his hand as she finishes stepping out, and her breath taken away at the gorgeous sight before her.

Sharky was right; it does look like something out of a postcard. Honestly, it looks like something that belongs in an Art Museum, their crown jewel piece of art. Before her, is a crystal blue lake, surrounded by a field of light green grass with pastel blue and purple wildflowers. Logs are spread around the lake, providing the perfect places to sit. The water is so clear; she can practically see the fish darting around the bottom of the lake. In the distance are the Whitetail Mountains, looking like they’ve been painted on the horizon. The snow-covered tops peek above the clouds, giving way to sharp cliffs and dark green pine trees. It is one of the most incredible things she has ever seen in her life, and tears well up in the corner of her eyes at the beauty of it all.

Hurk approaches her as Maeve wipes the tears away. “Thank you both,” She glances between the two, a lively smile on her face, “This is-.“

“HEY LOOK! IT’S THAT DEPUTY!”

Peggies! Maeve immediately pulls Hurk behind one of the logs, covering his body with her own. She won’t let the Peggies hurt him, not after all of this. “HEY PEGGIES,” Sharky shouts, followed by the sound of his flamethrower, “HOW ABOUT SOME OF THIS?”

Maeve quickly climbs to her feet, holding her hand out for Hurk, and he grabs it, allowing her to pull him to his feet. With Hurk gripping onto her hand for dear life, the two start sprinting towards Nancy as Sharky continues to distract the Peggies with his flames. “Did you bring any guns besides Sharky’s flamethrower?” She asks as they crouch behind the truck for cover. Maeve isn’t surprised that Sharky brought his flamethrower with him; it just wouldn’t be Sharky without it, but they needed more than that to work with.

Hurk nods. “Yeah! Sharky and I were afraid that Eden’s Gate might try to rain on our party.” He passes her, leading Maeve towards the back of the truck. As they reach it, Hurk pops the trunk open, standing up to hand her the LMG stored inside. “Even bought you some bullets for Valentine’s day, baby! I know how much you love that gun!”

Sharky yells, “UH, GUYS! Now would be a great time to get your asses out here!”

Pressing a kiss to Hurk’s cheek, Maeve readies the LMG. “Stay safe.”

“You too, baby! I know the Monkey King and all the little baby Jesuses are gonna watch out for us!”

It doesn’t take long for them to make quick work of the Peggies. Thankfully, only a few seem involved in the ambush, with no calls for backup. Even so, they have always made an excellent team, a true force of nature working in synchronized action. Sharky, bathed in the glow of his flames, has the Peggies diving for the nearest cover. Hurk’s grenades fly from his launcher, hitting any target with a loud, enthusiastic explosion. Maeve, their fearless leader, is the one to finish the Peggies off and the one to keep the three of them in check.

Wiping the sweat off her brow as the last Peggie falls, Meave slings the strap of the LMG over her shoulder and runs toward Hurk, concerned for him. “Are you alright?” She asks, her hands cupping Hurk’s face. “You took a pretty bad hit when we dove for cover.”

Hurk’s eyes slip closed as he leans into her touch, but he opens them a second later. “I’m fine, baby, but maybe I should be the one asking you that. Seeing as you were full-on Sarah Connor fighting the Terminator here.”

She laughs. “I’m fine, Hurk. I’m just glad to hear that you aren’t hurt.”

He glances over at the Peggie corpses, looking disappointed. “Sharky and I planned a nice picnic. We were gonna lay out a blanket for you, pour you some wine, and feed you grapes while you relaxed. Like one of those scenes in the movies where a pretty lady’s waited on and treated right, but now…” He trails off, disappointed by the turn of events.

Maeve’s hands release his face, and she grips the collar of Hurk’s tux as she pulls herself up to meet him in a kiss. She knows that Hurk tried his best, that he and Sharky put their hearts into making this day incredible for her, and puts as much of that feeling into the gentle kiss she’s giving him as possible. It wasn’t their fault the Peggies showed up; the Peggies are always showing up at the wrong goddamn time and today would be no exception.

His hands grab her waist, pulling Maeve close against him. After a few moments, the pair break apart, slightly breathless. As she releases his collar, Maeve offers, “I know, Hurk. It’s okay. I’m sure we can still do something fun, just the three of us.”

Sharky coughs. “Yeah, the three of us.”

Hurk releases her waist as Maeve turns toward Sharky. She approaches him, and plants a kiss on his cheek. “You weren’t hurt, were you, Sharky? Thanks for covering us out there.”

“Aw, you know me, Dep!” Sharky teases, giving her a wink. “Gonna take more than a few peggies to take me down!”

“So, what do you say we salvage this Valentine’s Day?” Maeve asks, holding both of her hands up towards them

“HELL YEAH!” Sharky and Hurk cheer, each giving Maeve a high-five.

—

Eventually, the trio end up at a recently abandoned bar, still stocked with wine and beer. Luckily, the previous owner had wised up to Eden’s Gate and left the county before the borders were locked down. Behind the oak bar, Sharky pops open three bottles of beer, one for each of them, and slides two beers towards Maeve and Hurk. “We should make a toast,’ he says, winkling at Maeve, ‘Especially to the Dep!”

“Great idea, cuz! I’ll start.” Hurk looks toward Maeve, leaning against the bar as he holds his beer up in celebration. “To Maeve, the hottest lady in Hope County! The most beautiful woman in the whole world!” Her cheeks flush bright red at his words. “I mean it, the Monkey King took me all over, but the treasure I was looking for was in Hope County all along. I love you, Maeve, and it’s all thanks to the Monkey King and the baby Jesus that I came back here to Hope County and got to meet you.”

“My turn,’ Sharky pipes in as Maeve’s on the verge of tearing up, ‘Besides Hurk, I didn’t have a lot going for me in Hope County. Thought I was gonna end up all alone, but then, you came charging in, and kicking ass, and Dep, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” He raises his beer. “TO THE DEPUTY!!!”

Her throat is tight as she raises her beer in celebration, and Maeve blinks back tears as she starts, “For a lot of my life, I thought I had to be someone else. That I wasn’t allowed to be me. Because if I was myself, I was letting everyone around me down.” Maeve smiles happily at Sharky and Hurk, a small laugh of joy escaping her. “But when I met you two, things changed. I realized that I could be me, that being myself was enough, and now, my life feels like my own. I couldn’t have done that without-.”

Hurk doesn’t let her finish, putting his beer down as he pulls Maeve in for a tight hug. She follows, placing her own beer down and eagerly returns it. A few seconds later, Maeve feels Sharky against her back, his arms wrapping around her and Hurk in a tight embrace.

“Thank you,” she murmurs into Hurk’s soft chest.

“Always, baby,” he responds, his voice slightly muffled.

“Yeah, Dep.” Sharky adds. “We’ll be here for you, always,”

“And, I’ll always be here for you two, too. I promise.”

Sharky pulls away. “Now, come on, we still got more for you!”

For the next few hours, Hurk, Maeve, Sharky, drank, ate, and danced their asses off. She felt a little shy about her dancing at first, but Hurk grabbed her hand, pulling her hand to the floor as Bruce Springsteen played on the Jukebox. He twirled Maeve around, letting her forget about any of her insecurities. After that, Sharky and Hurk tried to demonstrate some of their favorite dance moves. Sharky’s were all disco-themed, some simple enough for Maeve to copy, while Hurk’s dances were all ones he picked up from all the places he traveled. Maeve tried to see if she could follow them, but looked like she was flailing around instead.

As the night starts to wind down, Maeve could feel the weariness in her bones. She covers her mouth with her hand, hiding the yawn, but Hurk catches it anyway. “Tired, baby?” He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

Maeve nods. “Long day,” She smirks at Hurk, leaning against him, “The best kind though.”

He laughs as Sharky disappears behind the bar. “Man, they’re out! Think they’ve got some more in the back if we want to check,” Sharky says, poking his head up to look at them , But one more round, and we’ll take you home, Dep.”

“One more sounds good to me.” Maeve looks to Hurk, who grins at her.

“Me too. Thanks, Sharky!” Hurk responds.

Sharky nods, heading off to search for it. As he leaves, another song on the Jukebox starts playing: Rollercoaster by the Bleachers. “May I have this dance?” Hurk asks, holding out his hand for Maeve.

“You may.” Maeve teases, placing her right hand in his. She allows Hurk to pull her close as his left arm wraps around her waist. Her left-hand rests on the small of his back, fingers slightly digging into his jacket. She rests her head against his chest, just barely able to hear the sound of his heartbeat above the song, closing her eyes as the couple sway back and forth.It’s during this that a sense of serene peace falls over Maeve. Being in Hurk’s arms has always felt like this; like home.

“Baby?” Hurk’s voice is quiet, apprehensive even. It’s unusual for him, and so, she looks up at Hurk, his baby blue eyes focused on her with gentleness. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Hurk.” She leans up on her toes, rising to meet Hurk as he leans down, eager to kiss Maeve as he always is. She tastes beer on his lips and relishes how soft they feel against her own. Hurk nips at her bottom lip, Maeve letting him in, and he lets go of her hand, both of his hands finding their way to her hips. She wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers finding their way into his dark brown hair.

“I love you. I love you so much, baby,” Hurk murmurs into the kiss. Maeve could stay this way forever, just here with Hurk as they dance to this song. Hurk’s right-hand slips under the edge of her tank top, fingers grazing her skin gently as his hand moves up her back.

“I’ve got-HEY!” Maeve and Hurk stop, looking to find Sharky with three beers in his hands. “I get the next dance with the Dep!” He pouts, clearly a little hurt.

Glancing between the two, Maeve jokes, “Hmm, I think I might be a little tired, but I think I can spare a few more.” Because maybe, this night doesn’t have to end. Maybe they can stay like this, the three of them spending the night dancing until the morning sun.

#fc5 #far cry 5 #far cry 5 fanfic #fc5 fanfic #hurk drubman jr #sharky boshaw #the deputy #the junior deputy #hurk drubman jr/the deputy #Deputy Maeve Holly #kate writes #Far Cry Valentine's Day Event #I really hope you enjoy this!!!!!!#and I really hope I got Maeve in Character!#She is so cool lol

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choptop-sawyer · 3 years

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Hi again 😎💫 im here to dig at ur brain again bcs i. M. Aaa sorry i just love ur stuff but. I have this kinda rly specific storyline type hc area and I'd love to hear any hcs you might get from it if its at all jr thing. But um I keep sometimes thinking back to the idea of kinda, vaguely growing up in the same area as the Sawyers, being childhood friends (and being stupid 2gether, running arount the countryside, ditching school & playing in corn fields) -

But then having to leave in your late teens to school / whatever (I mean 😎 my sappy ass also thinks abt mutual pining w Bobby but you know...... nearly unrelated.......)

Then, later on (Bobbys now Chop Top, Nubbins is..... dead I guess but also >:( maybe not, the family is up to being a mess etc) returning to town to take a break from work or whatever. N meeting up w the family again, i mean, oblivious to the bullshit they get up to but.... yk

This is a bit rambly i should probs have waited to sleep but I can't get the thought of returning to the Sawyer door wearing Bobbys tie dye sweatshirt that hr borrowed u years ago and all the impact of being a former family member bc u were also kind of an outsider or whatever but also the drama of leaving so uwu sksjd

This got so long. All i wanted to ask is: sawyer family headcanons for a childhood friend returning to town after being away for years. Rip.

THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS god I love the image too of just standing in the doorway,, you're not home, you've changed a little bit, but you still fit into some of the old aspects you know so well they fit you and cover you.

Actually this is great because that fic that I swear exists has pretty much the same premise but!!! I can make this one less tragic than that one. 😎

(This is mostly Chop Top n you centric please don't mind)

Also this timeline is all fucky. I think that as soon as Chop came home from Vietnam the Sawyers had basically uprooted themselves and were living in North Texas because of the... Hardesty incident. But like can we pretend that that never happened they r still there in Newt? Just for this. (Hope you like it!)

Chop Top's Childhood Friend Returns

You don't think you would have turned out the way you did without the Sawyers.

They were the main element of your childhood, a mystery that you had to be a part of. A mystery, because they were closed off. Mistrustful. The sickness of small towns carried to the extreme, because they were mostly alone. The loneliness made them more miserable, the misery made them more isolated. A cycle, a legacy.

So it was a a miracle that you were even allowed to be apart of some of it, but you attribute that miracle to Bobby.

He seemed to think you were as much of mystery as what you thought the Sawyers were. Two kids looking through a small window into another world. But he liked that. He liked that you were something different, something new. From beyond that small world of loneliness that lived in the house.

You learned quickly that he had a desire for anything beyond that world. So he'd invite you out with him, when you were kids, to run free in the tall grass, when you got older, to drive with him to places unknown. He had a knack for finding these odd places, and he always brought you along with the music cranked up loud on the radio.

Bobby told you many times that he wanted to see the world. He had this lust for life that went beyond the restlessness of the young. He also said that he wanted to bring you along with him when he saw the world. You didn't ever mention how that always made your heart skip a beat when he said that.

Maybe you should have. But the past is the past and you can't change that.

You knew the other Sawyers too, but Bobby tended to avoid them sometimes. But occasionally, you got to hang out with them.

Nubbins was an enigma. You didn't think Nubbins was his real name. But that's the only one you heard from him, but the name situation was the least confusing thing. He was the most open person you knew. And yet you couldn't understand him, and decided at some point that you wouldn't ever. But he was fun. His energy was infectious, if he was filled with joy, you couldn't help but laugh with him too. That was Nubbins, so absent of any purposeful deceit that he was almost a mirror, you saw yourself around him, sometimes it was uncomfortable, but other times it was fun.

Bubba was the opposite. He seemed to be legitimately wary of you. Bobby once told you that Bubba didn't like to leave the house, ever. He stayed and did the chores. You wondered if he minded, being stuck with all the chores but Bobby said he didn't. It was comforting for him. Always having something set to do. You only saw him once. Nubbins had made him tag along when he needed him to hang some things from a tree. Bones from indeterminate animals, a clock with a nail through it. You don't think Nubbins actually needed Bubba to reach the branches (he climbed pretty well) but he just wanted his little brother to see his work. Bubba didn't make eye contact with you the entire time. He was wholly focused on his task of helping Nubbins. But he was gentle when he helped his brother, careful, and for that you liked him.

Drayton was... well. He was the one Bobby argued with the most. He was his brother, but with how much age between the two, it was almost hard to believe sometimes. Drayton was the one that everybody in Newt knew the most. People liked him well enough, but they said he was odd behind his back. He knew that. You don't think he trusted anything outside the insular world he and his family had existed in for years, and was at odds with Bobby because he didn't get why Bobby wanted anything to do with the world outside.

Oftentimes you would see Bobby after he and Drayton got into it. He'd be fuming, but he'd smile when he saw you. You'd leave with him whenever he came to you. These adventures were the most fun you had when you were there.

The other times you'd go off were when he'd convince you to skip school. Bobby never went himself. He didn't get the idea of all those kids sitting in classrooms for hours, doing nothing but writing and listening. Why do that when you can find things out for yourself? Get into some trouble? In his mind, he was saving you from a very boring thing.

You two knew the area around Newt well. The fields and the flat expanses were the best kind of playground. Your dreams were still set in them. A kind of sunshine filled melancholy.

Bobby told you things in the grass. His dreams yes, but his own thoughts. On music, on late night radio, on movies, on you. He perhaps thought of you as wonderful as voices on the radio, stars on the screen. He never told you that though. But your name was never far from his mouth when Bobby talked about the things he loved.

You and him loved each other as much as two kids who didn't know how to could. He was always on your mind now, with not much tangible objects to remember him with. A photograph taken by Nubbins, your faces blurred because you were laughing. A button, the pin on the back bent. A sweatshirt, which he tie dyed himself, and gave to you one night. The colors were faded. You never did get to return it.

The years away did nothing to lessen thoughts of him. No, they just blurred all together now, and the stream of the sunshine filled melancholy was almost endless. You needed a break. There was only one place you could think of that could help you with that.

So you came back. All things led back to this place eventually. Newt was dying, or dead. Didn't you see somewhere that when a ship went down, it took everything with it? You didn't want to stay for long. But you had to see all of them, you had to know that they were all not these strange figures you had dreamt up.

You went right to the house. You'd never actually been allowed inside, Bobby just always said something along the lines of 'Grandma and Grandpa are napping upstairs' or 'there's a mess' (never mind that he could care less usually about messes.) But you figured he had had a good reason. Maybe he was embarrassed.

When you knocked on the door, your heart was pounding. And that was all. Nothing happened, no indication that anyone was there. You waited, the sweatshirt was too hot but you didn't want to take it off.

Maybe you should come back another time. You were just about to turn around and leave when the door burst open, almost whacking you in the face. And there (you couldn't believe your eyes you couldn't this was a dream) he was.

Bobby had a hammer raised over his head, grinning, he was poised to swing it down, but then he saw you and he felt as if he was in a dream too.

It's been so long. He thought he made you up, a dream to carry him through misery, and you looked the part, even as you stood before him on the doorway. The light of the setting sun shone behind you, heat waves shimmered in the dusk, and you... you.

Facing each other, you stood, just staring. Over head the sky grew colorful, in the fields the grass whispered in the wind. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Bobby dropped the hammer and grabbed for your face, and he held it, fingers digging in so tight it hurt.

"H-hey you." He said, and fell to his knees, releasing your face. You numbly touched the marks his fingers left. Bobby still looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

You called his name, and his eyes looked lost, like he hadn't heard it in a long time. He looked up at you, and you could really get a good look at him. His face was leaner, he looked sickly and wiry, but his eyes were just as you remembered. You sank down to the porch to sit with him.

"Fuck... FUCK I didn't... I- I thought ya'd forgotten all about me... uh.. uhm. Fuck! I mean, r-really! Turnin' up out of the blue like you're some kinda... ghost or whatever... WHOA man... like, ya here to return m-my, my sweatshirt? You're wearin' it, you can keep it! You look better in it anyway... heh, fuck." He rambled on and on, hands tensing and twitching as if they were moving to touch you again, just to reaffirm your existence. Did he know how glad you were to see him? Did he know that you hadn't felt right for the longest time being away?

You forgot all about the sweatshirt, the hammer he had raised with a sadistic grin. You reached out and held one of his twitching hands, and he stilled and stopped talking. There was a peace now.

It didn't seem possible for your heart to feel this full. But it was. And by god, if this wasn't the best decision you made in your life to visit your old hometown, if only just for this moment.

Bobby stood, with your hand still in his, pulling you up. He smiled at you, and you knew you still loved him, and in your deepest heart, you knew he loved you too.

But this time around, maybe you and him could love each other right.

#tcm #texas chainsaw #chop top #chop top sawyer #chop top sawyer x reader #tcm 2 #texas chainsaw massacre #slashers #slasher x reader #my writing #chop top x reader #choptop sawyer

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juneisafantasyaddict · 3 years

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The difference between the amount of Darklina fan content (fics, art, social media engagement) vs the Malina content should be enough to tell LB that al her puritan preaching nonsense that’s totally devoid of nuance isn’t working.

The fact that there are so many fix its, so many post winter fete fics, so many “what if Alina had agency and chose to actually find out the truth instead of blindly believing Baghra’s lies,” and so many more scenarios, the fact that these exist should tell LB that maybe she didn’t tell the story she thought she did?

If most of your fandom is shipping your heroine with your supposed villain, maybe pause and see why instead of getting mad at your audience, saying ridiculous things on podcasts, and writing the fans into your book as a deranged cult?

The number of darklina fics on ao3 is like 4X more than the malina fics, and there’s a reason for it. I mean, one of the reasons is that antis would rather yell at darklinas than enjoy their meadow ship🤣🤣 but that’s not the only reason. I suspect the reason is that a lot of people just aren’t into this?

Also, it’s ridiculous for anyone to be surprised by the Darklina popularity. Like, if you’re shocked that people ship Alina with Aleksander, I just kinda assume that you’ve never been into YA or romance??? Like, when have we not shipped the kinda naive good girl with a dark side with the mysterious hot guy who helps her unlock her desires? Have you even read an airport romance novel? Literally no one wants to read about a bland af love interest. It doesn’t make for good books, and it sure as shit isn’t good on screen either. It’s boring.

It’s like people are forgetting that fantasy isn’t reality and you literally cannot punish people for thinking about stuff. This idea than liking a fantasy thing somehow reflects your morals is so fucking stupid, I want to laugh. Because really? I can’t fantasize about things I wouldn’t do in real life? I have to limit my imagination now to what is acceptable to random idiots on the internet who have no critical thinking skills or basic understanding of nuance??

This shit is how art has become increasingly meh. From literature, to film, to music, to paintings, anything. Everyone suddenly wants every piece of art of fit their super specific idea of what is “good” or “appropriate.” We used to only have to worry about religious organizations, conservatives, and oppressive governments trying to censor art, but now we have to worry about the “super woke” too, how very horse shoe of you guys btw.

Sigh, this wasn’t supposed to be a rant, and I really don’t want to dwell on it too much. But I’m going to say this, most antis I’ve come across are teenagers, which honestly is enough reason to just ignore them completely because lmao! I remember being a teenager, it was literally less than a decade ago. However, we’re increasingly giving teenagers way too much power to shape our society/culture and that’s fucking mental. People are literally scared to say things, write the stories they want to tell, make films they want, hell even make policies that make sense because they are afraid of being “called out” by 15 year olds on the internet. Wtf is this???? How are we not freaking out about this??

I’m not saying we shouldn’t listen to younger people, we should hear them. What we shouldn’t do is treat their fucking thoughts/whims as unchallengeable gospel. A lot of teenagers are intelligent thoughtful people, but they are still kids, and they fucking require guidance. I actually don’t care if this come off as condescending, I’m cool with that. What I’m not cool with is teenagers dictating what people can/can’t do/feel/think/fantasize about.

I’ve never seen a darklina fan pretend that Aleksander is a saint, we literally know he’s not and we like him anyway. Like, you literally are not owed an explanation because I like a fictional immortal shadow summoner and you don’t. No, I’m not explaining shit to you, if you’re pissed, don’t fucking read my posts then. Block me, don’t engage in darklina related conversations, literally go live your life away from me 🤣🤣🤣 But no, you antis would rather creep around our tags and preach as if that means anything. It doesn’t.

#fuck antis #I’m actually irritated #hate from antis is fuel for my darklina fire #darklina #the only gaslighting happening is the book trying to gaslight me to hate the darkling and love mal #mal is a toxic fuckboy and that’s canon

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 4 years

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Only Time Makes It Human

Hi, hello I was so excited to write this story you don't understand! I hope you all like it, I'm open to suggestions for part two or even part three hehe, I just like this concept a lot, lol i even made a Spotify playlist to listen to while writing. And I dont do that very often.

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Summary: he shouldn't have let Hange drag him to that frat party with Petra as his date, not when she knew you'd be there with someone else.

Tags: college au!, Angst, eventual fluff, slightly nsfw

Warnings: mentions of smoking, cheating, drinking and of you squint hard enough there's some nsfw, literally it's a frat party, you know how college students are

Disclaimer: drink responsibility if you are of drinking age, don't smoke, absolutely don't drive while being drunk, also I don't own the characters, but you already know that.

The deafening sound of pop music abused Levi's ears to the point his head was pulsing. His drink, a ratty cheep lager that was disturbingly common in such parties, stood in a red plastic cup in his hand, not even halfway drank. It was the watery taste he despised; when he wasn't much of an alcohol drinker, he was adamant about bitter tastes in beverages, a preference he hadn't managed to fight in his whole life time.

He shot an ominous glance at Hange and Petra. Stood right in front him, swaying their hips and smiling at each other as they shipped from their makeshift cocktails, they were more than surprised whatever they had dumped on their cups was consumable.

Petra in particular, beamed everytime she looked his way, auburn locks of her grazing the sides of her kind face as she swayed closer to him. The way his eyes never landed on her until it was necessary guilted him more than he wanted to admit. Mainly because Hange had set them up, and also because he shouldn't have been frying his brain with thoughts of someone else when he was with her.

But sometimes he couldn't help himself.

In an attempt to shut his brain down from making generously misery thoughts, he locked his hand around Petra's waist, sipping ever so slightly off his beer in the meantime. He didn't miss the way she lowered her head to smile, the sheer maroon tint on her cheeks. She fidgeted her fingers around her drink, shooting happy stares to Hange, Erwin and Mike as she went to rest get head on Levis shoulder.

Hange softly smiled back, curling her lips on an upward curve then brushing of three long to stare at the couple with ogling eyes. She focused on the conversation Mike and Erwin were having, as if it was something important enough to get lost into.

"I'm just wondering where Nanaba is, she said I'd find her here." Mike spoke with a puzzled voice, bobbing his head around to scout for the familiar blotch of short blonde hair that acostumed the face of his long term lover.

"Ah, she's with (y/n), silly. They're probably somewhere around if you want to say hi." Hange beamed.

Levi's eyes went wide and his hands numb at the sound of your name; he couldn't believe the plastic cup hadn't slipped off his palm. It had been so long since Hange had mentioned you so casually in a shared conversation, at least before him that is. It was more than natural to assume his friends hadn't cut ties with you, in contrast to his previous belief.

It was unlikely they were working against him on this situation, but his mind couldn't stop from running in possible imageries between them and you. Were they going to that cafe near campus with you when he denied their invitation? Did they spent some nights at your new place, drinking and driving you on watching horror parodies, when you despised it?

He shook his head trying to brush bubbling thoughts of you away from his mind. With a quick look at Petra, he decided to gulp down the warmed up lager, in hopes of finding relief in a stronger refill.

He despised the way beer didn't spritz on his tongue in it's warm state, but he refused to cringe at the aftertaste. Meanwhile, on his left, Petra enthusiastically bobbed her weight between her legs at the sound of another well known song. He didn't bother to comply to her moves, his eyes averted bitterly to the emptiness of his cup, yet he couldn't eagerly decide to step out of the comfort of his position.

Strolling around meant that he could come across you and he wasn't sure whether he wanted that or not.

Yet, Hange was adamant about dragging him, through the crowd to the kitchen counter, seeing his need for a refill as an excuse to get a new drink to mix to her cocktail.

Familiar faces fleet the kitchen, strolling around with numerous cups in their hands, heading to all directions. Levi pinched his nose in annoyance; the stench of sweat and smoke numbed his nostrils making him snicker, disgust masking the look on his face.

Setting his goal as to find a closed bottle of whiskey, his hands managed to work fast to their task. Upon discovering a single bottle that was still intact he twist the cap open, skillfully bringing the rim of his cap underneath the bottle's opening. Copper liquid poured in gushes in the red plastic, filling it to its maximum capacity.

The bigger the drink, the more chances he had to get a little drunk, maybe forget about you in the process.

"Are you thinking about her, shorty?"

Hange's voice rang in his blank head for several seconds fighting to elicit an answer out of him. He fought back, merely for a moment. If he knew Hange she would have kept pressuring him to answer her question on front of every one else for the rest of the night. He was trying to fix his mood with at least some alcohol, so he wouldn't let Hange ruin it.

He hesitated to speak loud enough for his voice to reach her eardrums. Admitting to his pain made it real, and he hated still being sentimental when it came to you. At least Hange would keep her mouth shut if she got her rightful answer.

"Well I do, I suppose." He muttered below his breath, gray eyes never averting to her direction.

Hange curious expression immediately transformed into one of pure mischievous excitement that, he had to admit, was pretty unsettling. He knew that look on his friend's face, he couldn't fight it even if he wanted to so naturally he wished he had bit back on his answer. Nevertheless, what was done was done.

"It sucks doesn't it?" Hange spoke, pointer finger stretching to fox her glasses.

"It makes me feel lonely."

"Well don't make your self suffer, shorty." Hange's eyes softened as she threw a playful punch on his bicept, her drink long forgotten on the counter. "You could try to be friends with her."

"It's not that I want to suffer, it keeps me going sometimes. And no, I don't want to."

With squinted eyes and a disappointed gaze Hange shook her head at him and grabbed her drink from the wooden counter. Her mouth formed in a disapproving smirk causing her cheeks to squint and scrunch in an almost too comical manner. Levi knew he should have paid, absolutely, no mind on stressing over it; whether she was right or wrong she wasn't in a place to judge him for any of his choices, especially on the ones on his romantic life. And even more executionally, on ones she had helped him make by setting him up with Petra.

Not that he had anything against Petra.

He actually enjoyed her company. The cute little remarks she'd make for him, the way she cared for anything he did or the way her eyes would ogle at him as if he was a god. She could keep her space clean and she was kind to everyone in the sweetest manner. On top of that she had a girl next door type of beauty, auburn hair parted messily according to any occasion and round hazel eyes. All in all Hange had been right to point out she looked good on him.

Tonight, Petra was shining in her favorite pastel layers. A soft strawberry lilac turtleneck with flared sleeves as a base, topped with a powder blue strappy dress and finally completed with velvet baby pink Vans. Cute sparkly pins were accessorising her hair and numerous necklaces with moon and star charms shone on her neck. The effort she had put to perfect her aesthetic had indeed paid off; she looked like a fairy under the erratic lights of the party. She had achieved her initial goal to stand out from the occasional soft girls around the crowd, signifying she was Levi's girl.

With Levi's popularity amongst ladies, she had to be effortlessly perfect.

And she was, for as long as she was concerned.

Levi shot his eyes to his friends' direction, catching quickly glimpses of the way Petra danced with Hange. Erwin and Mike were nowhere to be found for now, as he assumed they would be searching for Nanaba.

He cringed at the chaotic arrangement of things; Nanaba had distanced her self from the group because she was your childhood friend so her relationship with Mike naturally came second to not forcing you into the same group as Levi. As if Levi wanted to be forced to be in the same group as you.

Fortunately, you had plenty of friends as to not to stick onto his group.

He was gulping a mouthful of his drink, copper whiskey watering down his dry throat as if he hasn't drunk anything in hours, when his eyes met yours in the crowd. His heart immediately skipped a long beat, chest heavying at the sight of your flushed face.

Maybe, on second thought, you hadn't actually noticed him.

You stood outside of the massive glass window proudly downing the shot in your hand after cheering on it with Eren. There was joy written on your makeup accessoried face; with your eyes squinted and your smile spread to your face asour hips moved according to the music engulfed in Eren's palms. Your hair swayed with each one of your movements, (h/c) locks landed messily on your face and shoulders mirroring Eren's to perfection. Levi couldn't help but notice how Eren's man bun was coming undone on the erratic movements his made.

As you slightly squated, attempting to perk your buttocks in the air for your partner to grab, your baggy jeans tightened their hug on your body in perfection. Levi remembered having seeing you in those baggy cargo jeans from afar on a few occasions, always thinking how good they looked on you, always admiring how you could always lull off your desired aesthetic effortlessly.

It was true that had he not seen you flawnting your effortless dark urban style, he would have thought that Petra had been the only girl who could show anyone how dressing aesthetically could be achieved. But you were something different. They way your breasts sat firmly at the bustier bits of your spaghetti strapped top, adorned by the corset like nature of the torso tube looked magnificent paired to your jeans. Your jet black Dr Marten's boots peaked from the flared finish of your jeans, giving the look a 90s grungy edge along with your all natural -be it for your dark maroon lip color.

Looking around, amongst numerous art majors like you he couldn't find someone who could mimick the way you pulled it off.

There fore, on a way he didn't blame Eren's hands as they traveled down your curves and touched tenderly at your torso. Even if the motion pulled any string in his heart that wasn't numbed by his alcoholic beverage.

He loathed you looked so good, and he loathed the way you danced to the loud tune as if no one was around.

With another big gulp on his whiskey, he felt the world slowing down around him.

As your eyes finally met -this time it wasn't just him imagining things- the tune changed, mocking him for gawking at you while taking your side against him. He noticed you mouth the lyrics to him, your head turned to his direction as his eyes struggled to rip away from your form.

Your moves on Eren became more intimate, more suggestive as you scratched the nape of his neck, bringing your mouth close to his ear to whisper words Levi couldn't have known of. Quickly, Eren pulled away with a pouty smile, displeased that he had to pull away from you. It was in that second that Levi's chest tightened dangerously, as Eren's lips brushed chastely on yours, noses bumping on eachother.

In an attempt to shook the image out of his head he turned on his heels, cup squeezed in hand and stomach growling in anxiety as he marched to his group of friends. Smiling faces welcomed him but he paid no mind in reciprocating the slightest glance. Levi wasn't exactly the type to bounce back immediately after having experienced his heart sinking in such horrid way.

Unsurprisingly for him -seeing that he was used to things only going downhill after a shitty event- Mike appeared out of the blue with Nanaba linked on him through their elbows. It wasn't in fact Nanaba that shattered any remain of his, already ruined, mood, but the person that clung into her palm.

More specifically, you.

"Heyy!!" Hange screamed, hands stretching towards your direction, already pulling you in her embrace once you reached her velocity. "I have missed you so much, where have you been these days!"

"Hange we went out for launch yesterday." You giggled through your squished cheek.

"Noo, that was ages ago I miss you everyday."

You shot a judgemental look at Erwin from Hange's back as she began to pull back from your embrace. The lisps and slips of her tongue were starting to become prominent as she poured words before you in an excessively fast paced manner, leaving you unable to come up with a way to respond to her, let alone understand what she had been saying.

Erwin scratched the back of his head an but his lip in response, shoulders rising up in an unbeknownst manner.

"You shouldn't let her drink that much. You know how she gets." You scolded, looking around the faces of your friends, trying your best not to let your faint voice get overlapped by the loud reggaeton beat.

Once again as Levi's eyes locked gazes with yours your breath hitched inside your chest.

His hand strode out to Petra's waist, pulling her closer almost too automatically for anyone not to notice. The commotion caught your eye, but you never flinched, much to your demise. Petra's hair swayed to the right as her smile widened from the sudden affectionate gesture, making you sick to the stomach from how soft and fragile and enchanting she had managed to look.

"Anyways I just came to say hi, I'll go find Eren now-"

Your words were cut short as your aforementioned significant other showed up bouncing in excitement beside you. Mirroring Levi's actions he pulled you close in a swift movement before ensuring he gave soft smiles to everyone. Hange excitedly greeted him back as Nanaba and Mike caught him up in casual conversation.

Levi watched as the brunette whipped his head whenever he flawnted on his achievements, causing Nanaba to shoot him awkward smiles and Mike to shrug him off in the process. You could see the despair in their faces as Eren egoistically carried on the conversation, but you tried to shrug it off for the moment as you conversed with Erwin.

Your mind wouldn't stop ordering your eyes to attach themselves into the picture perfect couple ahead of you, who paid no mind to your mere existence. In a way you blamed yourself for having caused this. Had you uttered a single hello to them you wouldn't have received such treatment. It served you right for knowingly intruding their space with the intention to make your presence known to Levi.

If you knew if the way Levi's eyes fell onto you everytime you looked away, you wouldn't have had yanked Eren's hand in an attempt to gain his attention.

"Ah sweetheart, I'm sorry, Yeagerbombs with your Yeager boy?" Eren blinked his emerald eyes into yours, pride splattered in his smile for his -cringeworthy to anyone else but himself- pun. You couldn't help but let out a nervous snicker of a laugh as he yanked you close to him again, pleading eyes landing into Levi's stormy gaze.

For you, the world seemed to stop in the moment as you took in his dimly lit face and delicate features. The music fell deaf to your ears as you gawked at him, hands trembling and tongue tied in words that you failed to recognize.

That mellow melancholy in his eyes, the adorning eyebags, the way some short coarse hairs on his face tried to mimick his neatly kept undercut, it all seemed unreal to you.

How long had it been since you had been so close to him? Nowadays it seemed the two of you had moved on to whatever. You had tried so much to avoid eachother that your timing never allowed the two of you to meet, not even for a the slightest, in hopes of forgetting about each others existence.

What downed you, though, from your precious pink cherry blossom rainfall bubble was that Petra was wrapped lovingly around him, her aesthetically pleasing image fitting conveniently with your little fairytale background, throwing you out of it.

By faintly excusing yourself from the group you let yourself lose on Eren's grip as he slipped you away from the crowd and towards the kitchen.

Levi didn't want to have to take a trip to the bathroom of a sorority house. In thought it seemed disgusting and unsanitary, but he had so much to drink that his body had been begging and screaming to him for some sort of relief.

He assumed the upstairs bathroom would be clean, supposing there weren't any horny young adults crushing their reproductive organs against eachother as there would normally be at any party of this nature.

With a steady knock that elicited no answer or even a simple grunt from the other side of the door he knew he was good to go. With a movement of his wrist the handle twisted and he slowly let himself in, eager to get through the process as fast as possible.

A few moments later and the fly of his distressed jeans was being zipped up again, tucked neatly under his black crewneck's bottom. He scrunched his sleeves up above his elbows and run his hand under the sink, waiting for the water to warm up.

His face looked tainted in the mirror; puffy eyebags and a deadpan expression while his lips stayed chapped. In an attempt to look presentable he run his now excessively washed hands through his front bangs tagging slightly to form a little volume at the roots.

He hadn't expected to swoon so easily at the sight of you being playfully entangled with Eren. He hadn't expected his heart to sink at the sight of you being explicitly affectionate with anyone before him and he wondered if it was simply due to the fact that he hadn't been accostumed to it. He certainly hadn't expected of Eren to step in and swoop you away before his very eyes; the pain of seeing you next to a friend of his seemed even more devastating for a few seconds.

Nevertheless, the little shit had always had an eye on you, even if he liked to consider himself as a protegee if his.

Levi wondered if you had felt that loathing feeling as well. Petra hadn't been that private about their relationship, with her constant posts on Instagram, her continuous snaps of him on a daily basis. Whereas he hadn't seen you post many things in the course of eight months.

He had brushed off the idea of scrolling through your socials a numerous times before finally agreeing on linking with Petra. Secretly he'd search for your shared photos, hoping they'd appear out of nowhere on your profile. Secretly he'd stare at his archived posts, contemplating on whether he should keep photos of a better time protected or whether he should delete them.

Now with his back against the sink to prevent himself from catching his reflection judging him, he unlocked his phone and tapped the familiar fuchsia icon. As expected, Eren's profile icon flashed in a pink and orange ombre circle before all others, signaling he had posted a story. Not supressing his pulled heartstrings who were set to call the shots tonight, Levi tapped on the icon with such force that a loud tapping sound filled his ears.

The video loaded painfully slow, his data connection giving in to the thick bathroom walls. Eren's face flashed on his screen, sheepish smile adorning his features."There's no hope for us!" He spoked in blurred pronounciation. "Even the anti smoker is smoking!" In a quick sequence the camera angle shifted on you, apathetically taking a drag out of a freshly rolled cigarette while cussing him out in a stern tone.

Silently he scrunched his nose and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Surely you still hadn't learnt from past mistakes. In seldom occasions you'd smoke while mixing your drinks, nothing unusual for people at your age; although Levi knew better than to do it consciously, you sometimes did. He had been strick and unforgiving on you, snapping out on you the following day for not taking good care of yourself. Clearly his short temper had only pushed you to riot now that you were away from him.

When the door shot open, causing him to jump and nearly let his phone slip away from his grip, he couldn't bring himself to realise for how long he'd been sitting in the bathroom, replaying Eren's story.

His eyes quickly recognised you as you shot your arms to pull your hair away from your face. He had seen you from every possible angle, a feeling that once upon a time had made him feel sick and trapped, pushing him to make stressed decisions. Every little detail of yours was curved in the back of his brain, awaiting for moments like this to unleash. It was easy like that to recognize you for miles ago.

As much as he'd like to, he didn't make a move towards you, afraid that maybe if you saw him out of all people in this state you'd jump in fear.

Nonetheless he couldn't help the silent inquiry concerning your condition not slip off his mouth. "You alright there?"

"I'm fine." You gulped, supressing the urge to spill your stomach's insides before the person behind you. "It's just- my ex is here and I- I guess I got stressed and I smoked and I drunk too much and ugh-" you cringed at the way you overshared your personal matters with a stranger, although you momentarily found comfort in the action. No one could judge you if they didn't know you, right?

"You don't say!"

Of course luck wouldn't be on your side. Ever since you laid your eyes on him a few hours ago you knew it in your heart this night would fall in crumbles, but did it really have to be this way?

You jumped, startled at the sight of Levi's familiar face, ignoring the way your heart fell as hard as a rock in your stomach, ignoring the vertigo like feeling to numb the poor organ. Puke hitched in your throat and you ripped your eyes away from his form in a panicked state. Your stomach emptied in the porcelain toilet, leaving atrocious sounds as it burned and scratched on your throat. You feel your whole body go weak with every shot of your stomach. Your hands couldn't keep their grasp on your hair; they quickly fell near your legs.

Levi crouched to your side in a heartbeat, his quick instincts getting the best of him as he grabbed your hair tenderly in order to keep it away from your face.

"Fuck, just how much did you even drink?" He whispered, hand reluctantly reaching to soothe down your back.

"You should know." You barked. "You were staring. How dare you?"

He had grown accustomised to quite make out your mutters by assuming what you were feeling in the moment. Athough, as your excessive vomiting came to an alt, you yanked your hair angrily out of his hands, refusing to associate yourself with him anymore.

As you meticulously washed your hands and mouth you noticed his stretched hand shielded the way to the door, blocking you from exiting. Your dizzy state didn't allow you to be feisty as you fixated your interest in swooning over the way his arms looked with his sleeves rolled up. You took a mental note to scold yourself for that very fact once you were sober enough.

"I have to go to my friends, thanks for helping me."

"You're not going anywhere." You noticed his breath hitched as he spoke. Was he equally as drunk? Wasn't he supposed to handle his alcohol like he had always said? Just how much had he had to drink? "You're not going anywhere until you tell me why you drunk so much."

Your silent thoughts geared up inside your brain, ready to skyrocket out of your mouth the moment you opened it to speak. "It's because you're here and you're with her and seeing the two of you in action is only making it real!"

Levi erratically blinked at your word vomiting. He hadn't expected you to just spill out those words without a notice it a warning, hell, even a little warm up would be nice to help him form a preserved reaction without becoming a drunk stuttering mess.

Without warning your hands wrapped around him, chests pressed against each other in the firmest way possible, sending shivers down his newly sweating spine. Normally, he'd say he hated the way you nuzzled against the crook of his neck, wiggling your nose through his crewneck sweater to coo into his warmth. Normally, he'd pinch himself and wake up and you would disappear, never to been seen laying beside him in such manner again.

Normally his blood wouldn't pump profoundly in his veins in excitement and lust as your touch and your smell.

As the sweet aroma of vanilla and pergamont englulfed his nostrils his arms loosened around him before jumping to the sides of your face, yanking it away from his neck. His next move was crucial; thumbs tenderly stroked on your cheeks as his stormy eyes looked silently into yours. He could only listen to his heartbeat as he crushed his mouth against yours in a feverous manner.

His body pushed against yours in need to pull you into the kiss as you responded with equal effort to your passion. Fortunately for him you had spent minutes trying meticulous wash out any smell or taste away from your mouth with some oral hygiene products you had happened to come across in the cupboards. The fact that he was drunk didn't mean he was inconsiderate of his need for everything to be clean.

All in all, be wasn't sure how the two of you ended up in the backseat of his car, topless with your tongues genuinely battling for dominance.

He must have been in a haze as he pushed past and out of the crowd, erratically trying to remember the general direction in which his car was parked.

As his hands gripped everywhere he could find his eyes didn't dare to shoot open. Existing in this moment, dry humping to your hips from underneath you. Tiny bumps adorned your skin every time he touched you. The freezing air of December had finally brushed its effect on both of you, soft shivers shook your whole form and he couldn't help but notice.

He couldn't think straight, despite wanting to though.

Your lips launched in the soft spot on his neck in an effortless manner. To him it was obvious you hadn't forgotten his own anatomy; all the places that you touched teased him perfectly to submission making him sink into the black industrial seat.

Your hands passionately grabbed the back of his hair, elbows colliding with the skin just under his collarbone.

"I've missed this, I've longed for this."

Your words, whether they were intentional or not, slit through his chest and set fire to the wound, causing another wave of stressful passion to spread from his stomach to his whole body. Chaste kisses were places all over his face, underneath his bangs, on his eyes, even the tenders corners of his jaw.

Your noses crashed, your breaths mingling in the air as your lips found his again.

You moved your lips in perfect synch, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle that were fabricated to fit perfectly on eachother. It hurt you that your bodies were working against your sober wills. You made another note to punish yourself for that as well once you were in your right mind.

His hands wrapped tighter around your back, crashing you impossibly closer next to him. Your chest fought to rise and fall as squirms escaped you, engulfed into his mouth.

"We shouldn't do this here, I'm not up to voyeuring anyone." He remarked, but fell silent as you placed another brushing kiss on his lips before pulling back to slightly nod in agreement.

Before you knew it you were wrapped in his jacket, your top long forgotten in an unseen corner of his car. His own charcoal black crewneck shielded his body from your sight as he hit the pedals of his car almost too closely to the allowed speed limit.

Long forgotten were his friends and date to the first party, long forgotten were any attempts to find excuses for whatever had ignited what was happening.

The trip to his apartment was quicker than what you had expected; maybe it was for the alcohol in your system that left you in a constant vertigo, but your head wasn't getting any better. The warm golden Christmas city lights adorned every single aspect of the streets and captivated your eyes spreading their heat into your whole form. With Christmas around the corner the current situation felt even more alluring to indulge into.

Christmas always meant Levi, in a way.

You swore you only blinked for a second once you entered the apartment building front door but when you opened your eyes you were before his door.

As always, it read 25B.

In a flash you were underneath him in his bed, hair sprawled everywhere around you as his lips angrily assaulted your collarbones. You didn't trust your drunk antics to tell you if the night was still young, but you assumed it could still labor a few more hours of the greediness between two long lost lovers.

"I" he started acting kissed on your lips as his hands came to mingle with the button of your jeans. "Want you to know." Another kiss was placed on your lips. "That" another "I-"

This time you cut him off with your swollen lips on his, sucking all air out of his lungs. "Just kiss me and we'll talk about this afterwards."

Your eyes throbbed as light entered their cavities, reflecting on your irises despite your best wishes. You had only just shot out a hand to shield them from the warm rays of sun when panic stabbed through your chest like a murderous intruder.

They blueyish grey tink to the walls and the futuristic design of the drawers and nightstands were all too familiar to you. They stood there, mocking you on all their dark chocolaty color for being unable to come up with an immediate answer to your whereabouts.

Your head was being occasionally jolted in throbbing hot pain as you decided to look around you in the matress, in hopes of recognising the person to whom the newly sounding grunts belonged to.

To your utter shock and disbelief, Levi shot up from his position on the bed. You watched as his eyes widened at the sight of you, grey orbs slightly shrinking in shock and realisation.

"What did you-" he began but soon his hand shot up to his own throbbing head. "Shit just how much did we have to drink?"

"Okay I have a better question," you added to your shared misery "are you as naked as I am?"

It was on rare occasions that you had seen such irrational panic mask Levi's face, yet this time must have been the most striking one amongst the ones you could recall. His skin had lost at least two shades of color, his lips parted slightly. His forehead was cringled as his eyebrows were skyrocketing away from his eyes.

Although when he opened his mouth in an attempt to confirm the obvious, he was quickly cut off by the sound of his doorbell being rung, along with three stern knocks on his door. Even his phone started ringing from beside him, adding pressure to his momentarily frozen state. He picked the divice in his hands, fingers shakingly making their way to the acceptance button.

"Hey Petra!"

"Hey love!" You heard the cheerful voice fill the air through his speaker. Petra had a really loud voice, you noticed, it was either that or that your head was about to explode from the hangover. "I'm outside, please open up, you left without even saying goodbye and wouldn't pick up your phone. I'm so worried."

"Tch, give me a second I'll get changes and we can have breakfast at that cafe you like." Levi grunted, his thumb reaching to rub soothing circles on the prominent vein in his forehead.

"Can I come inside?"

Shit.

"Yeah yeah." He spoke as he hit the closing button, his phone being slammed against the bed. His head turned to you, only to reveal a section of his throat that was bruised in lovemarks you had left on him. "Hide, stay silent, I don't know which one, just do it."

After his harsh order, his eyes never had a chance to reach yours as he got up from the bed to sprint to his dresser, hurriedly searching for the only washed black turtleneck he owned. He hadn't even had a chance to look himself in the mirror, but knowing you, you couldn't have held back from munching on the skin in his throat.

Upon his quick discovery, he threw on a pair of gray of sweats that he recover from the hanger behind his door.

You didn't dare speak, hell you didn't even dare move, the fear of being discovered in such pretentious position -as the third person- in a house you once had lived in overtook your natural senses and your irrational thinking. Your heart didn't cease to sink as moments later you heard the door click open, then immediately close.

The familiar buzzing sound of silence filled your ears a few moments later. This time realisation kicked in immediately in hopes of drowning your mind in excessive amounts of overthinking. That's how it was then?

Your head plopped down the pillows, sinking deeper and deeper with each passing second. Your heart skipped essential beats and your breathing hitched in your throat. Only one question stood on top of others.

What had you done?

Tags because yay: @sasageyowrites @levisbrat25 and @ackermans-freedom-inc because I know they were excited for this story and the new addition to my taglist (??) @alrightberries 👉🏻❤️👈🏻

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi #levi snk #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman imagine #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi imagine #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #aot x reader

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pencil-down-a-paragraph · 3 years

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keeping up with the constatines

I’m writing an absolutely ridiculous John Constantine fic that involves him becoming the temporary guardian of two teen superheroes (which is the worst idea ever who decided to let him near children)

here’s the gist;

because Trigon is the worst, Raven is in hiding and is tossed around the Justice League before Giovanni Zatara is made her guardian

after only a few weeks living with the Zatara’s, Giovanni is killed, leaving not only Raven without a place to stay, but also Zatanna

this is obviously a problem

the Justice League have no idea what to do

the only other person they’d deem strong enough (magic wise) to protect them is Doctor Fate, and he straight up refuses

Flash, the absolute idiot, suggests Constantine because ‘he’s really powerful, right?’

its a terrible idea

he makes deals all the time

he’s sold his soul more times than should even be possible

he’s a terrible influence

but they’re desperate and he’s powerful and it just might actually be their only choice

they call him

at first he refuses, asks why they can’t get anyone else, if there’s anyone else, why they’re even considering him of all people

eventually he relents on the premise that its temporary until they can find someone better suited for the job

he owed Zatara anyway

the League sets everything up

they stick him and the teens in a three bedroom apartment in Bludhaven

John has absolutely no idea what he’s doing

Raven and Zatanna don’t know either, they’re really just trying to vibe through their grief

things could definitely be better

four weeks in, the Teen Titans are formed

Raven joins and Zatanna declines the offer

she’s still grieving :,)))

John is v uncomfy bc he doesn’t know what to do with a depressed teenage girl

he usually just falls into a pit of self loathing and drinks away his problems but he’s a responsible enough adult to know not to suggest that to a minor

he tells the League

she starts going to therapy with Black Canary

another month in and school is about to start

the League agrees they should attend bc they really do need the education and some since of normalcy might help improve their moods

this may or may not prove to be an issue

bc, ya know

the girls are kinda being hunted and Raven has no real surname

they got that covered tho

John protests, the girls agree

school starts and Rachel and Zorina Constantine are introduced as the new kids in class

John asks when the kids will be placed elsewhere and is told, very firmly, by Dinah that a sudden change might put Zatanna back in a bad mental state

John relents

life goes on

UNTIL

Zatanna walks into the apartment with a dirty street child

John’s not one to ask questions, he didn’t say anything when Raven came home one night with an emotionally wrecked Robin and declared that he was staying the night

any other time, he would have let it be

but not tonight

he definitely said something this time

bc he turned around, choked on his totally not spiked coffee, and exasperatedly yelled something about how ‘we’re supposed to be keeping a low profile, bringing the host of Shazam here is not low profile!’

Billy would be more shocked if he weren’t about to pass out from malnourishment and exhaustion

which he promptly does

Zatanna screams

John sighs

he hates his life

which is fair tbh

for some reason i’m still working on, Billy sticks around and accidentally integrates himself into the already weird, little, broken home

life goes on again

until John uncovers a vampire nest, informs the League, and him the kids get relocated to Central City

two weeks later Zatanna meets Superboy (the 90s punk one bc i love him)

the Young Justice is formed a week later

another week and they reach out

Zatanna accepts this time

then life really does go on

there’s really just so many shenanigans going on

they adopt a hellhound puppy

Billy names him Quincy

Zatanna learns to love herself and how to be herself with the help of Raven and through clothes and music and basically what i’m trying to say here is that we stan punk Zatanna in this house

Deadman and Swamp Thing tend to show up, usually unannounced, to visit and terrorize John bc that’s what friends are for

it should be noted that Billy’s twelve and best friends with Cassie Sandsmark (also twelve) in this

also that when i first thought of this i accidentally started shipping Zatanna and punk Superboy

so i’m currently the only person who’s making content for that specific ship

yay

bbrae will also be in this but other than that there probably won’t be any other ships

unless you count a brief mention of John and King Shark’s past relationship lol

it should also be known that i have an entire incorrect quotes file for this fic

i’ll probably start writing chapters soon (unless one of my other equally terrible fic ideas captures my attention [which will probably happen]) but i’m definitely working on character designs and drawings so you’ll get story content regardless!

my eventual beta reader and story idea consultant @sailor-saturns-tea-kettle she’s made character moodboards for the story (found under the keeping up with the constantines tag) and came up with the title

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gunterfan1992 · 4 years

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Interview with Half Shy (the songwriter of “Monster”)

For the last few months, I’ve been collecting information for a second edition of Exploring the Land of Ooo that will also cover the production of Distant Lands. This means that I’ve started to look into the new songs that we have been graced with this year, and this of course includes “Monster,” the beautiful track from the masterpiece that is “Obsidian”. And so I reached out to the song’s writer, Half Shy, who was kind enough to chat with me via email about the songwriting process!

(Photo courtesy of Half Shy)

In many ways, Half Shy is living the creative Adventure Time fan’s dream: She got asked by Adam Muto himself to write a song for “Obsidian” after he heard her music through Bandcamp! (I’ve dabbled in fan music before, and the fact that someone from the show might listen to it just blows my mind.) What an opportunity; I am so excited for her!

Since a second edition of my book won’t be coming out until after all the Distant Lands episodes air, I thought it would be best to share my Half Shy interview now. Read on for the fascinating behind the scenes story of how Half Shy and “Monster” came to be..

GunterFan: What is your origin story? How did you get involved in music, and how did the Half Shy project come to be?

Half Shy: I’ve been making music pretty quietly since I was in high school with a keyboard and guitar. I played one or two shows a year after college when I could find a friend or my brother to get up on stage with me, but I don’t really have that performer gene in me naturally. I get too much in my head and forget what the lyrics are to the song I wrote, or what the next chord is. Total brain freeze. So that whole experience is a bit of a mental drain. It’s something I think I’d like to dig into and figure out, but right now I’m really enjoying the time writing.

Even playing a song for my friends I still get pretty nervous. That’s where the name Half Shy comes from. I’ve always been interested in making things that by their nature draw a bit of a spotlight, but at the same time, I am just really quite nervous about the attention.

I recorded my first songs under my old name Hey V Kay in my bedroom and started putting them up online one at a time. When I got enough I thought about packaging it up into an album, but then got really distracted by learning how to fix up motorcycles and going to automotive tech school. When I eventually got back around to it I named the album Gut Wrenching.

After a few years I realized that I didn’t want the day-in-day-out life of a mechanic, I just wanted to know how to fix cars for myself and to have that knowledge in my back pocket. I got back into making music but grew frustrated at the process of writing and recording songs. I felt like I wasn’t able to capture the ideas I had in my head. Like trying to draw on your computer with a mouse. Doable, but it’s not going to come out like you’d hoped.

So these last couple of years I’ve focused more on learning the technical aspect of it, from the initial ideas and lyrics, to the recording and mixing. During that process I put out Bedroom Visionaries, and while writing I happened upon the name Half Shy in an old Thesaurus which felt instantly right. Learning all of that has been fun, I even went as far as to create my own book to solidify a daily writing routine (lyricworkbook.com). All that has been a bit of a tangent from actually making much music though. I should be getting my books in December from the press so I’m really looking forward to getting back into making more music instead of dealing with printing presses, setting up websites, and sourcing ribbon suppliers.

GF: What is the story behind "Monster"? How did the show get in contact with you?

HS: I keep a log of “Song Starters” with neat things I’ve heard in the world, and I would look through it every now and then and notice just how many came from Adventure Time. Eventually I thought well, I have to make a song about this show that just keeps breaking my heart. It was around the time I was nearly done with the first [Adventure Time-inspired] song “In My Element” that I got an email from Bandcamp saying “someone bought your album (Bedroom Visionaries).”

I get maybe one or two of these a month at most so I love to go in and say hi to the person and say thanks, be curious about who they are, [and] what they’re all about. Turns out it was Adam Muto, the executive producer of the show. (I asked and he has no idea how he happened upon my stuff. He guessed that I must have tagged something #adventuretime and he just happened to see it.) So I sent him an email saying, “Hey wow thanks for checking out my tunes. Also... holy crap you’ve made the best show I have ever seen in my life.” [I] played it real cool like. After finishing up writing my second [Adventure Time-inspired] song “Betty” I couldn’t help but fangirl real hard [and I sent him another message saying], “I’m sorry this is probably awkward, but I really love your show and I wrote these songs about it.” He was incredibly kind and shared them with his Twitter Universe, and a while after that I got a random email from him saying basically, “Hey, I’m working on this thing I can’t talk about, would you be interested?” I was like… well you know I’m pretty busy working at a sign shop so I’m gonna have to pass on this once in a lifetime opportunity (J/K. Obviously I fan-girl squealed and said yes immediately).

We chatted a bit about what the project was going to be and the direction. He mentioned there [would be] two Marceline songs in the special, [and he asked if I] would I be interested in giving the love song a try? Trying real hard to suppress my instant imposter syndrome I was like, “Yea, totally I’d be into giving that a shot!” So I read through the story and loved the idea of the dragon mirrored in Marceline, thinking through how they’ve both built up a protective shell, how she grew tough for a reason, but now she can open up and be vulnerable with PB.

From there I wrote the initial demo with the first two verses mostly intact and we went back and forth a few times editing it down into the final version. I recorded the final parts for the show in my little home studio in Seattle.

GS: When you were writing the song, what emotions, thoughts, or ideas were you channeling? Was there any sort of memory of event that you were trying to artistically "catch" or "recreate" with the lyrics or music?

HS: As far as channeling an emotion, generally I’d say just the experience of existing as a human. It can be so hard to open up and be vulnerable. I can remember that feeling even as a young kid—getting really excited about something and having someone completely trash it or look at you like, “Why are you so interested in that? It’s dumb.” [It causes us to grow] a little more weary to share ourselves because we know that hurt and embarrassment. The pain of being misunderstood is something I think a lot of us can relate to. Then having to decide whether to keep sharing those vulnerable parts of yourself or think, “They’re just not going to get it, I’m going to get hurt, so why bother?” and then stop putting yourself out there. You lose a lot with that thick armor though. You might feel protected, but you’re not feeling a whole lot of anything else other than the weight and chafing of it (I had a whole lot of armor-related metaphors that I didn't end up using.).

I struggle with this in songwriting too. I’m not the bolt-of-lightning type. There are pages and pages of cliches, total garbage, bad jokes, and cheesy lines that I have to get through in order to get to something that I am excited to put out there into the world: “Here I did this thing, I know it’s a little (this or that), but I made it... What do you think?” It’s hard to open yourself up to hearing the other end of that question.

I filled about 5 little pocket notebooks just thinking through the story, ideas, and trying to get this song right. I wanted it to feel familiar and honor the past songs of the show ([e.g.,] using the ukulele and referencing a few of the familiar chords from “I’m Just Your Problem”) but also be pretty open and vulnerable and different for [Marceline]. [I wanted to] show that she’s going through some tough emotions but also figuring herself out and growing.

GF: I feel like “Monster” is, at its core, an ode to the “Bubbline” ship. How do you feel about your song being intimately connected to one of the most famous LGBTQ+ relationships in animation? Do you have any general thoughts on Marcy and PB, Bubbline, etc.?

HS: Oh, I’m a total fan girl of Bubbline. The whole story of how Rebecca Sugar and Muto slowly morphed it into this deeper relationship is just great. As a part of the LGBTQ community myself it really means so much to see the representation of characters like yourself portrayed in an intelligent way. Growing up I was too young to fully understand what was going on but I saw Ellen getting cancelled, and [I] heard people around me saying they’d never watch her show again after she came out. That stuff sinks in as a kid and so to have these characters who are not only intelligent, but funny, complex, and unapologetically strong who also happen to be queer is really great. I love that the story here isn’t about their orientation, but that they’re people struggling with how to be open and vulnerable in a relationship.

It feels like something sci-fi and animated shows do so well—to show that ridiculousness of limiting who a person should and shouldn’t love. Marceline is a 1000+ year old half-demon/vampire and PB was born from the Mothergum of an apocalyptic radioactive world, but you’re going to get hung up on them loving each other? It sort of brings it into perspective in a really interesting way.

GF: Do you have any other thoughts about the experience that you'd like to share?

HS: Just how lucky, thankful, and honored I feel to be a part of my favorite show, writing a song for one of my favorite characters. It’s also incredibly cool how the people on the show are so willing to connect and collaborate with their fandom. Everyone [on the production crew] was very open and a real joy to work with.

I’d like to give a huge “Thank you!” to Half Shy for agreeing to participate in this interview; she really was quite amiable! If you’d like to hear more of her music, check out her website and her Bandcamp. You can also follow her on Instragram here and on Twitter here. And of course, here is Half Shy’s awesome video of “Monster”.

#adventure time #atimers #adventure time distant lands #atdl #half shy #monster #bubbline #marceline #marceline the vampire queen #bubblegum #princess bubblegum #pb #adam muto #interview

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

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From anon: I don’t know how someone can be as intelligent as you behind this blog and still ship Vmin and Namjin.... where j*k*ok is known for being the most realistic Jimin-ship and Namjin is known for being creepy for feminizing Jin to extreme extents. People that ship namjin give me chills honestly. Majority have this twisted fantasy of om*ga Jin x a*pha Joon which is so disgusting.

Thank you, I guess, for this backhanded complement (which I'm saying with the utmost amount of sarcasm, just so we're clear). Quick question though, if namjinists give you chills and you aren’t a vminnie, what are you doing on a blog that is mostly about both?

While I won't get into why I don't agree with your statement in regard to J*k*ok, and therefore by proxy about vmin, I do very much take offense against what you said about Namjin and namjinists. While yes, there are people who do what you said they do, there is an overwhelming majority of those who don't. Since there is no way for me to check every single account of a namjinist and ask them if they feminize Seokjin or see him as om*ga in their fanfics/fantasies, I can use the power of AO3 as place to get some data to check this argument, since a lot of this is reflected in what people write and how they characterize the members.

More below the cut since this could be a topic/discussion some might not want to read about or even see on their TL:

Since 2013 there are 153k fanfics for BTS across all available languages, out of which 7863 have the al*ha/b*ta/om*ga dynamics tag on them, meaning just about 5% of fics fall into that "genre", which is basically nothing. Because I was curious, I checked both designations for each member and created a table, the result being this:

Now what do we have here, 45% more results for O for Seokjin than A though that's barely anything when compared to the 70% of O for Jimin, meaning even if Seokjin is seen as O, it's much worse in Jimin's case. And while yes, a majority of those % is due to namjin fics, the majority in Jimin's case is due to J*k*ok ones, so really, who are the bad (feminizing) guys here? Even more so when you consider that there are 2.1k J*k*ok fics in this category (without otp:true) as opposed to 1.6k namjin ones. Also, before someone argues that vminnies are just as bad, there are only 631 fics with that tag for vmin and 1.4k for y*onm*n, which covers the three main Jimin ships.

Then, because I was still curious and I like numbers, I thought I could check the other two much debated tags for comparison purposes:

As it turns out, these results are not great either, though comparatively far worse when it comes to Jimin, though judging by how certain parts of the fandom (and especially shippers) treat and see him, and portray him as, I can't necessarily say I'm surprised.

Now, what does all of this tell us?

For one I think it showcases a big issue we have when it comes to mlm ships within those writing about Bangtan, but also in general, the fact that in large parts many write mlm not because they are gay themselves, or even queer, but because they enjoy their ship and base their way of writing them on stereotypes and by projecting heteronormative ideas and norms onto them, consciously or not is up for debate. There is a whole discussion to be had about when certain writers portray queer characters/real people respectfully and when it turns into blatant feminization and even fetishization, but I'm neither the right person nor am I equipped or informed enough to be the one to have it. There have been countless others who did a brilliant job of it so if this is a topic that interests you, I'm sure you'll be able to find resources and posts about it with ease.

Now, as someone who is queer myself and likes both vmin and namjin dearly, I think it's uncalled for of you to come into our asks and make such claims about namjinists, especially toward someone who never exhibited any such behavior themselves, as in me. I know a lot of namjinists, I watch the community and read their discussions as best as I can, and I enjoy reading a good fic from time to time. And while yes, there are problematic writers who do what you accuse them of, as well as shippers more generally speaking, such people can be found for every ship, their amount those vastly varies.

I don't ship vmin and namjin based on some kind of fantasy version I have made up in my head of them, nor do I read a/*/o myself since I find the whole genre repulsive, so I don't see how you thought this would be an effective argument for whatever you thought this ask would achieve. I base my ship related thoughts, opinions and analysis entirely on what the members show us, the personalities they have, the things they've said and done, and the music they have written. I don't subscribe to any weird conspiracy theories and I don't subscribe to the idea either that the "smaller" one in a ship plays whatever role as opposed to the "bigger" one, or even the idea that relationships have set roles because that's not true for straight couples so why should it be the case for queer ones?

Anon, you can dislike shippers who go too far, we all do, and while I agree that people who still "force" their weird ideals onto Seokjin while "forcing" stereotypes onto Namjoon simply because he's tall and buff are disgusting and wrong, I'm not one of those people. And neither are most of the people who send in asks or have sent me DMs to talk about namjin. There are other sns where these behaviors are exhibited to unimaginable extents by (mostly) women much too mature to be talking in such manners about young musicians half their age or more, perhaps you should send asks like this to them instead.

At the end of the day, how “real” a ship is has no correlation with how big it is or the way people fantasize, write and talk about them. The only deciding factor are the people that are actually involved in the ship itself, not its shippers and their beliefs. Sometimes it worth it to make up your own opinion instead of following the “popular” one without question, or letting toxic shippers taint your opinion of everyone that likes a certain ship.

#answered ask #answered ask by admin 1 #what is it about our account that seemingly attracts there kinds of asks lately #also why did these anons choose pride month and festa time for asks like this

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count-woe-laf · 4 years

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Who’s your friend?

Prompt 53 from @someonehelp sorry that it took so long and if it’s not what you wanted, I may have accidently written it for @coconut-cluster ‘s battle of the bands au and this post and its tags because my brain could not stop thinking about it. The au is hers and y’all should go check it out, I love it

Thank you @knight-of-cauldrons for helping me with the names and lovely people from the Roman Arson Squad for helping me with other stuff too and @me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink for helping me edit stuff and talking about this until 4am with me so I knew what to write, I appreciate it, (also the drumstick things is entirely her fault (maybe a little bit of mine))

Pre-romantic prinxiety, there’s a few swears, very brief mention of murder/death, the ending and middle is a little weak, 1348 words

The blood pumping through Roman's veins, the air in his lungs, the microphone in his hand, the noise of the music and the crowd, the feeling of happiness- of greatness surrounding him. It was in these moments that Roman felt truly alive.

It was the show high and boy was it fun; the world would slow it's spinning, Roman- his bandmates and friends playing behind him- would sing, the crowd would cheer. It was one of the best feelings Roman had ever felt. (He says one of the best because he got a free pink lemonade in the middle of summer once and it was closely tied for one of the best feelings ever.) This great feeling stayed until Roman would get home that night. Even once the audience left he would still feel the burst of happiness in his chest.

The Disasters were spread around the stage, packing up their instruments. Well, Remus and Janus were packing up. Roman didn't have anything to do so he was scrolling through his phone. Virgil was sitting on the edge of the stage, playing around with his sticks, talking to someone from the crowd. Normally Roman wouldn’t pay much attention to them, but he didn't have anything interesting on his phone and his gaze kept drifting towards Virgil.

The guy Virgil was talking to looked around their age; he seemed nice enough, maybe he was being a little too nice for Roman's liking, but that didn't matter, he was just some guy. Some guy that was talking to Virgil, a completely normal conversation. Virgil had conversations all the time. …Did Virgil usually smirk at a stranger's remarks, though? Did he normally let someone try (and fail) to spin his drumsticks, would they laugh afterwards? Roman's after show happiness suddenly disappeared; he instantly realized his night wouldn't be as good as he thought. The amazing feeling was replaced with another that Roman wasn't entirely familiar with. All Roman knew was that it wasn't jealousy.

There was no way it was jealousy, It couldn't be jealousy, jealousy didn't feel like this, did it? No, the feeling in the pit of Roman's stomach wasn't jealousy, he wasn't jealous. There was absolutely no reason for him to be jealous over some hot looking dude talking to Virgil. Roman and Virgil were just friends anyway, he didn't have a reason to be jealous. it didn't matter that Roman's heart stopped when Virgil smiled at him. It didn't matter that Virgil would say one flirty joke and Roman would be distracted for the rest of practice. And it didn't matter that Virgil was one of the few people Roman trusted. None of that mattered, Roman was not jealous. Finding himself walking towards Virgil's spot on the edge of the stage wasn't because he was jealous, it was because he was bored and cared for Virgil's safety talking to random people. Yeah, that sounded about right.

"Well you seem really funny, Virgil, right?"

Virgil stopped spinning his sticks. "Yeah, and your name is…"

"Andy, short for Anderson, it's a dumb name right?" They both let out a short laugh, Andy's laugh was really nice and smooth, way better than Roman's dorky one. What? That didn't matter, there was no need to compare himself to whoever this Andy dude was.

Roman ignored his mess of thoughts and placed himself near Virgil. "Hey, Virgil! Who's your friend?" Ignoring how stiffly Roman spoke it almost seemed like he was saying it nicely. Of course Roman was saying it nicely, why wouldn't he be saying it nicely?

"Oh uh, we're not friends yet," and the guy dragged his hand through his hair and winked at Virgil. He actually winked. He looked towards Roman. "Anyways I'm Andy, me and my friend Spike are going to get some food, wondering if Virgil here would like to join us?"

And boy, did Roman have a lot he wanted to say, it might've warranted him a disappointed lecture from Janus. So he turned off his internal monologue of this bitch really thinks he can take Virgil, my best friend out to an 8pm dinner, that's our thing sometimes we even share pancakes- and looked over to Virgil. He must know that the late dinners are tradition and that one cannot break from traditions especially ones with your best friends.

"Come on, it'll be fun." Andy lowered his voice, "Maybe after we can drive somewhere, there's a place I know that's really pretty around this time."

Roman scowled and opened his mouth, hoping to say something that wouldn't sound overly protective and jealous. "He-"

"Sorry we have some band stuff to talk about tonight. But uh," Virgil threw up some awkward finger guns and stood up, quickly trying to get away. "I'll see you around though. Have a good night, Andy." They started to walk away.

"Ok, if you're sure, I wish I got your number, but I'll stick with this," Virgil turned around to see Andy badly twirling one of his sticks. "See ya around Virgey," and with another stupid wink, he was gone.

They both stood frozen on the stage, the feeling in Roman's stomach grew as the silence stretched out. "Did he just make a pun? And call me Virgey?" He looked over to Roman with a bewildered face. "He used a pun to take my stick, called me Virgey, and left. Now I need new sticks," Virgil looked down at his lone drumstick. "This is why I don't like new people talking to me. And being stuck somewhere alone with a stranger? Not my thing." Virgil turned to face Roman, hands loosely playing with his stick. "Sorry for cutting you off there but you were already being overly jealous and extra and I didn't want that to get worse."

"Hey, I'm not overly extra, I don't know what you're talking about," Roman looked down and pouted.

"Oh so you're admitting you're jealous?" Virgil raised an eyebrow with an innocent look.

"I'm not that either, Virgey," Roman ignored his growing blush, took Virgil's last drumstick and lightly hit him on the arm, making Virgil frown in response.

"Oh really?" Virgil took back his stick and hesitated before gently placing it under Roman's chin, tilting his head up so their eyes met. "You're a horrible liar, you don't keep eye contact and can't think of excuses, it's very suspicious. Anyways, you interrupted my lovely conversation with Andy, sure seems like you're jealous, Roman."

Wow… Roman was going to faint. Virgil was looking at him with a teasing glint in his eyes as a stupidly cute laugh fell from his lips. Roman couldn't even respond let alone breathe, who gave Virgil a right to be this- this-

Roman's chin fell. "We should go, I think Jan and Remus are already in the van."

"Uh, yeah," Roman said, slightly dazed. "This is your last call to go with your stranger over there and get into his sketchy looking truck. You sure you don't want that?"

Virgil snorted, "I'll stick with your jealous self. At least I know you won't kill me in a back alley." He started to walk away. "Come on, you know Janus will leave for ihop without us."

Roman followed him out. "I blame you if he leaves us, you piss him off too much."

"Says the one who got into an hour long argument with him about cornflakes." Roman scoffed in response.

The after show high had returned, along with memories of thousands of similar interactions with Virgil. (God, why was Virgil such a flirt? Roman would combust one of these days.) Unlike his earlier predictions, it was a very nice night after all. Roman was so thankful to have the feeling of giddiness back in his veins and his band of friends surrounding him.

(He was also thankful for the ihop waiter that brought him extra whipped cream that Virgil proceeded to eat and get all over him. There was now a very cute picture of Virgil in Roman's syrup covered phone that Roman would not stop looking at all night.)

I tried to do it justice, thanks for letting me write this and for sending in a prompt. Send me a prompt (and characters and a ship, sorry if I change it) and I’ll write something (probably short and definitely sanders sides) out of it eventually. Know that it will probably take me forever but I’m trying to write more

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #janus sanders mention #remus sanders mention #ts virgil #ts roman #I know dialouge is not my jam and it probably sounds choppy but idk how to fix it #botb au #hopefully this is good enough lexi #pen throws away a pen

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cinnamontoastandtears · 3 years

Text

thank you for the tags @mithranqueer and @rufusrant vv happy that y’all thought of me haha 💕 (and thanks for the awesome questions @dustino)

have you ever written rpf before, or are the beatles the first you’ve ever done it for?

yeah, no, the beatles are the first and most likely the only rpf thing i’ll ever write. i’ve written fictional character ones before that but they were shitty so the first thing i ever posted was beatles too.

what’s your favorite ship to write and why?

starrison... because it just is, i have really no idea. they have the dynamic of the kind of relationship i want, i guess, (plus majorly awesome side-character energy) so yeah.

easiest beatle to write?

george. his personality is scarily similar to mine, so all i really have to do is think how i’d handle (x) situation.

hardest beatle to write?

paul. which is strange bc every mclennon fic ive ever written is from his perspective lmao. i think it’s hard for me to write him because i don’t actually like him very much and he gets on my nerves.

original era or modern au?

modern, but i can tolerate original if i throw period-typical homophobia in the bin. don’t like writing that.

least favorite pair to write?

mcharrison.. mostly cause they’re just such great friends and ugh, will die for some good mcharrison bromance (writing a fic like that now lmao...)

do you read or write more?

write, sorry to every fic ive ignored, but multi-chapters stress me out so much especially if they already have upwards of like 10,000 words. (very sorry if i’ve ignored your work, it’s really not your fault i promise) if i catch a multi chapter in its first couple updates i’m more inclined to read it. (but yeah, i write way more to the point where i have several almost finished fics in my drive, expect a week soon where i just post them all ahajkdks)

aus or canon compliant?

i mean i guess modern au if that counts? or them as like, anything but musicians because that’s hilarious.

ship you’d like to see more of?

uhhh... lenstarr or lennison (create the content you wish to see)

au/trope you want to see more of?

nothing specific. (but i love drunken confessions and bed-sharing, specifically together)

fanfic trope pet peeve?

ARCHETYPE BEATLES. archetype beatles can fucking kiss my ass. no sweeter-than-sweet ringo, depressed/moody/angry george, way-too-much-of-a-“leader” john, and paul the a) over-the-top drama queen or b) the Most Serious About Music™️. hate those. please be complex :))

prefer to write one shots or multi chaptered fics?

oneshots. but i did just start a multi chapter one you can read here if you’re interested 👀 (it’s sort of crack, idk if that hurts or helps)

on a scale from one to ten, how much has fanfiction taken over your life?

like maybe 6-7. it’s a lot.

do you have an author you look up to?

YES. literally all of them omg. seriously @mithranqueer @measuredoutinyears @dusted-0negin @celeste-fitzgerald @rufusrant @muzaktomyears @blobfishmiffy you all are very cool and i always feel very nervous to talk to you 😌

what’s a fic you can’t get tired of no matter how many times you read?

(time to sift through my bookmarks)

by @measuredoutinyears

a love that’s shining all around here - starrison (literally the first beatles fic in my bookmarks)

because you’re sweet and lovely - starrison (oh my god)

by @mithranqueer

baby, you’re a rich man - starrison (ahhhhhhh them as mob members is crazy and perfect and you know??)

by @blobfishmiffy

beatle toast (but gayer) - lennison (vv accurate for their dynamic)

a push in the right direction - starrison (the obliviousness and denial and the lenstarr bromance = everything)

by @celeste-fitzgerald

if this was a movie - starrison (i think the first time i read this i had to get up it was just so sweet)

by no particular author i know the tumblr url of:

peppermint kisses - mclennon (it’s christmas fluff i mean come on)

drunken lovers. - starrison (what did i say about drunken confessions)

attracts me like no other lover - george/everyone with endgame starrison (not sad but made me cry)

do you have a current fic obsession?

will you be mad if i say my own?

how seriously do you take fic writing?

not as serious as i should maybe, if you measure how much i don’t try and how much i live off of people’s praise :D

tags before the nsfw: ... @muzaktomyears (vv sorry if this is like the third or fourth tag, but y’all already talked about some of my favorites)

do sex positions (top/bottom) effect your enjoyment when reading or writing a fic?

kind of ?? more in the next question

do you have a preference over who’s who at all? if you do, then what are they?

in lieu of the confusing answer i had, here’s the six main ones:

mclennon: top john

starrison: prefer top george but either one is fine

lennison: top george

mcharrison: either way

mcstarr: mostly top ringo, maybe top paul

lenstarr: top ringo

this stems from the deal that if i read a ship and one or another of them is the top the possibility of me being able to picture it another way goes down (like first come, first served sort of)

is there any kind of kink you have to fight back including in every fic?

nor unless you count dirty talk which i always put in there anyway

when do you feel comfortable adding a smut scene in your fic, if it matters to you at all?

i guess in truth, i’ve only written a couple of fics (posted and unposted) with smut in them, and in a decent half of them i used sex to represent a deeper emotional connection rather than, like, because i was horny (but i have like 4 of those too so if you want i could..) /hj

#tags #this was vv fun #the beatles #thank you everyone #sorry i had to make a new post cause

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the-witty-pen-name · 4 years

Text

Rest Pt. 1

Mando x F!Morellian! Reader

Word Count: 3k

Summary: 3rd person; When the Mandolorian is searching for parts on Arvala-7, he encounters someone who may be able to help him on his journey.

Warnings: none/mentions of injury and brief mention of character death; 18+ in later chapters

A/N: This was meant to be a one shot but this probably going to be 3 parts. I also ignored canon for this one. I tried my best to research Morellians for this fic to make sure its accurate, but it may not be perfectly accurate to canon. I just wrote this up cause I wanted to write today, but take a break from Deadbeat, even though you can expect Part 7 very soon!

If I miss something that I should include as a warning, please let me know!

This is also unedited!

Tags and Requests are OPEN

He was so tired, all the time. It was such a constant feeling that he had forgotten what it felt like getting a good night’s rest. He’d allow himself to sleep a few hours here and there, but his normal was pushing his body constantly until he was exhausted and then some.

It was caused by many things- the nature of his job, his own paranoia, and even just the sheer uncomfortableness of his small bunk on the Crest. Now, there was the Child. The little green creature taking his free moments of rest more and more. In his mind, it was never a debate- the kid always came first. He didn’t give a second thought to how he was sacrificing his own wellness, and frankly if he did ever think about it, he’d come to the conclusion that he wouldn’t care.

His ability to sleep had gotten worse, with his inability to stop worrying about the Child. He would now force himself to stay awake for several days on end, too worried about if something would happen while he was asleep and his guard was down. The Child would sleep through the night, and Mando would sit up on his bunk, just watching the little creature’s breaths rise and fall, and he would have his eyes glued to the closed door of his bunk prepared for a threat that never came.

When the pair reached Arvala-7, he was in a zombie like state from lack of sleep. His body was on autopilot as his feet dragged across the planet’s surface, the Child securely following behind in his floating pram. The Mandolorian was very hyperaware of the heaviness of his armor, and the way the helmet irritated his skin more than normal. From his outward appearance, no one would know just how close he was to falling over from exhaustion. For the sake of the Child, he kept pushing himself forward, always making false promises of rest if he could just make it to the next location.

“You need rest,” Kuiil declared as he observed the Mandolorian walk towards him.

“I’m fine,” Mando deflected, a little annoyed at how well the Ugnaught could read him, even hidden under his armor.

“I have spoken.” Mando sighed, the exhale of air distorted by the modulator of his helmet. He walks past his friend and walks into his small domicile, with the baby not far behind him.

“I shall watch the Child,” Kuiil states affirmatively before Mando can object. Mando nods, defeated, finally realizing he will rest whether he wants to or not. “I will feed him and wake you when it is time,” he continues.

Mando doesn’t even remember falling asleep. He didn’t dream and he wakes up with a terrible crick in his neck. He doesn’t feel rested, just stressed and his body is still tense. He stirs from his spot and walks back out. He’s panicked because Kuiil and the Child are no where in sight. He only relaxes when he sees the two of them outside, Kuiil tinkering on a project and the Child playing with some parts Kuiil had discarded on the ground.

“You must rest,” Kuiil reiterated. Mando shook his head. He didn’t know how long he had been asleep for but he imagined it was long enough. “It hasn’t been even twenty minutes.”

“I just needed a power nap,” Mando says, not letting his friend talk him into another nap. He was fine. He just needed to work on the ship and he’d rest when they were back on course. “I need to work on the ship, I need to go get some parts,” he states. “Please watch him, I will be back tonight.”

Kuiil doesn’t say anything, just nods, knowing that no matter what he says the Mandolorian was too stubborn for his own good. He borrows Kuiil’s land speeder, and heads to the very small almost abandoned town that’s a decent trek away from Kuiil’s moisture farm. The air is very heavy, and the heat was weighing heavy on his eyelids. He felt like there was a pressure around him that was pushing him to sleep, but he was successful in avoiding it.

He looks over and sees there’s one establishment that looks like its open. He decides to wander in and see if anyone knows where he can buy the parts he needs. As the door to the establishment slides open, he realizes that it is some sort of cantina, with low lights and low music playing from a live band in the corner of the room.

There’s a circular bar in the center of the space, and he approaches the bartender. His mind his hazy, and he almost forgets why he’s there in the first place. Fortunately, his outer appearance makes him look more menacing than he feels in this moment. Customers at the bar speak in hushed tones as he approaches. He doesn’t even notice, the fogginess caused by his lack of sleep is affecting his power of observation.

“Where can I go to get ship parts?” he asks.

“Jawas,” the man chuckles sarcastically, like the question itself was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

“There’s no where else?” He asks, frustrated.

“Not anywhere you can travel to in a day,” the man replies. Mando sighs, realizing he’d have to return to the ship empty handed. He can’t let it go another day. He needed to get off this planet.

“Give me directions.”

“There’s no where besides here that can offer you lodging, you can’t make it there on a speeder without stopping.”

“Directions.”

The man sighs and reluctantly gives the Mandolorian the coordinates he needs. With a gruff thank you, the Mandolorian leaves the bar, and gets back to the speeder. Kuiil would understand. Kuiil probably already knew the journey ahead of him and Mando was too stubborn to take his friend’s advice before leaving.

If he didn’t stop to rest, Mando figured he could get to the location by the next day if he drove fast. It seemed like a good idea to him at the time. It was the most time effective option he had. It was entirely different in practice, driving alone in the dark and his eyes becoming more and more heavy. He also never anticipated the wear it would cause the speeder, and he cursed as the thing was gradually slowing down until it came to a complete stop.

It was too dark to try to work on fixing it, even though he tried anyways. Even with his visor aiding his vision in the darkness, it was fruitless. He’d have to wait it out. He couldn’t allow himself to sleep. What if he was found by Jawas and they’d strip the speeder, or maybe they would steal his armor. It wasn’t something that he was willing to risk. So, he stupidly decided to work on the speeder without being able to see properly and assess his surroundings.

His thoughts were only on the Child and returning to him as quickly as possible. It made his actions irrational and careless. Which is why he scraps his arm on the metal of the speeder as he tinkered. The cut is deep, and it stings. He curses at his own stupidity and desperately tries to just apply pressure to his arm with his other hand. The material was old, dirty and rusted and it caused a deep wound.

He sits down on the ground, trying to make himself a tourniquet by ripping at his underclothes. He’s breathing heavy, and he knows that he is losing blood and he had no way to clean out the wound. He’s stranded and he can only think about the Child. Needing to just stay conscious long enough to think himself a plan out of this situation, and that’s the last thing he remembers.

He thrashes when he awakes, taking in his new unknown surroundings. It was a similar abode to Kuiil’s but it was obviously not the farm he was familiar with. He looks down at his arm, seeing the wound has been bandaged and treated, and his glove, and other pieces of his armor that needed to be removed to treat the injury sat on the floor waiting for him. He felt lighter, and more aware. Hell, he felt awake for the first time in a while. He felt rested. If it weren’t for the worry of waking up in a strange place, he’d feel good.

Before he was able to decide if he wanted to venture out of this bedroom, his thoughts were interrupted when another figure walked in. They were moving quietly, and Mando knew they were moving so that they wouldn’t disturb him. He sat up, letting them know he was awake and then he turned to look at them.

The young woman was standing holding a tray of food. She was nervous, but not scared of him, Mando was able to observe. It had also been a long time since he was in the presence of someone so easy on the eyes, and it made him nervous as well. She was very pretty, and easily one of the best things he’s got to see in a long time. He wasn’t sure what to say, not wanting to scare her off, so he waited for her to speak first.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” she said apologizing. “But I wanted to bring you this.” She leaves the tray on a small table next to the bed.

“T-thanks,” he stuttered, not sure what questions he could think to ask first.

“You were passed out next to your speeder,” she explained. “I found you early this morning. Your speeder is outside. You’ve been asleep here for about twelve hours… I don’t know how long you were outside before that.”

He nods, trying to still wrap his head around the situation.

“I’m sorry for taking off the armor,” she continues, “I didn’t take off your helmet! I know Mandolorians keep those on, I wasn’t sure if it was okay that I took off the pieces I needed to get to your cut.”

“That’s fine,” he said softly, “Thank you. It is really just the helmet that I can’t take off.”

“All of your stuff is there,” she points to where his bag and pieces of armor sit on the floor in a neat pile. He nods.

“Um, that’s pretty much it,” she says awkwardly trying to remember if there was something else that she needed to tell him. “You’re wound is fine, once it was cleaned up it wasn’t as bad as I thought. You really were just exhausted over anything else; I think. I’ll let you eat, I promise I won’t come back in until you tell me, so you can take off your helmet… There’s no one else here but me so you’re safe- you can even lock yourself in if you want. I don’t mind.”

“You’re being really accommodating,” he says suspiciously, not use to the hospitality. It worried him.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, his words reminding her of what she forgot, “I had contacted by Kuiil- told me to look out for you, that a friend of his- a Mandolorian would be coming my way in need of lodging. When you never came, that’s when I went looking for you.”

“You know Kuiil?” he asks, relieved he wasn’t completely with a stranger. He was, obviously, but he was at ease knowing he was with someone Kuiil trusted.

She nodded. “You can stay as long as you need. He said your son can stay with him as long as you need. I’ll let you eat,” she said, leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

He was taken aback at how kind she was towards him. She was so trusting and just let him into her home and helped him. Granted, it was because he was vouched for by Kuiil, but still. He also was flushed at how attractive she was. It made him nervous, he was so used to being along that he didn’t know how to handle himself around a woman- especially one that he thought was just so- so nice to look at. He felt foolish, and he was so confused at how easily that girl flustered him. It was just that she was kind, he tries to reason with himself. He’s just not use to the hospitality. He wasn’t flustered cause she was pretty, no absolutely not.

He took a moment and then resolved it was safe to take off his helmet so he could eat. He usually rushed through meals, just so he could get the helmet secured back on his head. But he felt comfortable here, and he allowed himself the luxury of taking his time, enjoying the unfiltered air. He looked around the room, and it was mostly bare, which isn’t surprising. The bed was comfortable, much better than his bunk on the Crest and better than the little spot in Kuiil’s dwelling.

He just felt guilty. He shouldn’t be resting when the Child is waiting for his return, and he still hasn’t retrieved parts for the ship. And here he was getting comfortable like was on some vacation. He quickly finished his food and put on his armor, ignoring the sting putting it on affected the cut under the bandages. He placed his helmet on and then left the bedroom.

“They’ll be here soon,” she announces when he emerges from the room. It stops him dead in his tracks. He didn’t know what you meant.

“Who?”

“Kuiil and your son,” she explains, “I just reached out to Kuiil, letting you know you were awake. He insisted he’d bring the kid to you. He thought you’d leave and strain yourself trying to get back too early. They’ll be here tomorrow.”

He chuckles, and is astonished at how well his friend seems to be able to anticipate his every move. “He’s right,” he sighed, sitting down across from her at the small dining table.

“He’s very wise,” she agrees. There are a few minutes of silence that cause an awkward tension to arise between the two of them.

“I’m (y/n),” she says. “Just realized I never introduced myself,” she says sheepishly.

“You can call me Mando,” he replies. She nods. There’s a mutual understanding between the two that says there’s no need for small talk.

“Is your child also a Mandolorian?” she asks curiously.

“No, he’s not,” he responds. He’s used to people pestering him with questions but he usually gets annoyed. He actually this time was happy that she wanted to know about him, and he was asking about the kid. For some reason, it felt different. There was no judgement or fear, just her genuine curiosity. She doesn’t press him to elaborate, which puts his mind at ease, and he’s relaxed.

“Are you married?” she asks next.

“No- no,” he says hurriedly. He feels foolish for how the question flusters him. It’s a perfectly reasonable question. It was just the natural assumption when she knows he has a kid, but not the context of how he’s a father. He also feels embarrassed at the desire to let her know he’s single. It’s stupid, he chastises himself. He was being ridiculous.

“He’s a foundling,” he explains simply. “He’s not actually mine. I’m not married.”

“Can Mandolorians get married?” she follows up.

“Yes, of course,” he says. She nods, and gets up from her seat.

“I have to check on the vaporators,” she announces. “I suggest you try to get more rest, but if you want to follow, you’re more than welcome to.”

When she moves, he notices the odd, cylindrical weapon fixed on the side of her hip. He trusts her, so it doesn’t worry him, but it is something he wants to ask her about.

“What is that?” he asks, following her out of her house and out into the dry air. She looks to where the gaze of his visor is fixated.

“It’s my light saber,” she says simply, not expanding on her answer much like how he did.

“Are- are you a Jedi?” he asks, his head tilting.

“I’m a moisture farmer,” she chuckles.

“I thought all the Jedi were gone,” he says, his eyes following her.

“They are,” you explained simply, “I’m not a Jedi anymore.”

“Did you fight in the war?” he asks. She looked young, and he was incredibly puzzled. Maybe her species was humanoid, but she aged slowly, like the Child.

“Clone Wars,” she states, confirming his suspicion. She was older than him, but she looked younger. “I’m Morellian. We don’t age the same as humans.”

“How old are you?”

“Forties? I don’t know. I haven’t really done the math in a while,” she shrugs. He chuckles, he felt the same way about his own age. He hadn’t thought about it in a long time, but he was fairly certain that they were roughly the same age, even though his signs of aging showed on his skin more than her.

“How long have you been here?” He asks.

“How long has it been since the end of the Clone Wars?”

“That long?”

“All the Jedi needed to go into hiding,” she states.

“Are you the only one?”

“I don’t know. The only man I knew I heard died, killed by Vadar,” she says solemnly. “Supposedly, he took on a new apprentice, but I don’t know where I could find him if I wanted to.”

“Can you use the Force?” he asks, thinking now about his own task that lays before him with the Child.

“Yes,” she replies simply, holding back a smile and a sarcastic comment.

“The Child- my son,” he says, a little overwhelmed how easily he stumbled upon you. “I’m supposed to bring him to a Jedi- bring him back to his people.”

“You need to bring him to a Jedi?” she asks skeptically. He nods.

“He has- these, um, powers,” he tries to explain, “Moving things that are physically impossible, healing- it’s nothing I have ever seen.”

“I’ll help you.”

“You said you aren’t a Jedi.”

“But I’m probably the closest you’ll find.”

Part Two

#mando x reader #the mandolorian #mandolorian imagine #mando x you #mando x y/n #mandolorian one shot #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal characters #x reader #star wars imagine #star wars one shot

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