#the big dumper is everything to me

[cheeezball]

god i love cal raleigh

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Are you sure you'll be OK, darling?" Vallery's dad asked.

"Of course, I will! Like I said I'm happy to pay the bills, don't worry about it."

"But you sure you aren't getting overworked? That belly's getting big, sweetheart."

"Daddy, if you're so worried why not come in and watch! The director won't mind."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course!"

"Thank you for doing this, dear.... I know it's not exactly what you had in mind a couple years ago."

"As much as I wanted to be a vet, this is way more fun! And like I keep telling you guys, you're getting older, I understand that you want me paying the bills so you can retire! Now come on...."

"I know, I'm just nervous seeing this, the way you come home sometimes, it looks brutal...."

"Stop whining!" Vallery dragged her dad into the house, where ten burly, muscular men waited, along with a male director and his crew. Vallery kissed the director on both cheeks, introducing her dad. The director shook his hand, telling him what a natural talent Vallery was, that it's so rare to find girls down to do almost anything and she was eager to do anything no matter how extreme. He said he was really proud of Vallery, watching from behind the crew.

The director called, "Action!" and the scene commenced with four of the men dragging Vallery inside as she fought, telling them to let go, that she was pregnant. The men said nothing, only grunting or chuckling or panting as they proceeded to pull off her dress and take turns fucking her as Vallery convincingly played the unwilling victim, crying and begging for them to stop, to not hurt her or 'all the kids in her belly'. They only got more aggressive, passing her around, fucking her pussy and ass. Soon the other six men joined and Vallery struggled more, only for one guy to smack her face and tell her to be a good girl.

Soon they eased her in, continuing to pound away, fucking her body as they held her up, suspended off the floor. They smacked her belly and Vallery writhed. They spanked her and smacked her breasts repeatedly. Soon they were throat fucking her until she puked all over herself, smiling as they pulled out, saying it felt kind of nice being treated this way...... By the hour mark, Vallery's character was 100% into everything, giggling, moaning, and encouraging them with her new black eye. Frantically telling the men to keep going, to destroy her pregnant body, to beat her up, to hit her all they wanted until she was barely recognizable. And they did. The men tortured and beat up Vallery, continuing to throat fuck her, punch her belly and face, piss on her, all as Vallery moaned like a good whore, giggling playfully as her body was beaten to a pulp and fucked raw. The video ended with the crew driving out to a random fast food place, and the men tossing her brutalized body on a mountain of trash in one of the dumpers, zooming on Vallery's face as she drooled, face swollen and bloodied, barely recognizable, as her character hoped. She softly moaned, mindlessly fondling her bruised, swollen sex, saying, "I hope someone else finds me and has even more fun with me." She looked right into the camera. "I wish it was you."

"Cut!" the director said, and Vallery climbed out of the dumpster as the director joked, "Covered in trash, beaten to a pulp, bruised, and covered in piss and cum, that's a good look for you, Vallery."

"I know!" she giggled. "I bet I've never looked prettier, wouldn't you say, daddy?" she asked her dad, who was silently watching.

"Of course.... pumpkin. You've never looked more beautiful."

"Mmmm, I'm glad you agree, daddy!"

The director used his phone in selfie mode to show Vallery what she looked like. "Here, feast your eyes."

Vallery beamed like a woman getting shown a wedding ring. She looked her bruised and beaten body all over, her puffy swollen face, one eye totally blocked by it, a few teeth missing. "Holy fuck, I look so hot!" She gave her belly a good smack. "God I look incredible! Gotta post to Instagram asap!" she practically squealed.

The director placed his hand on the shoulder of Vallery's dad. "Don't worry, we'll cover her medical expenses as usual if she needs anything. A few new teeth as usual. You raised a hell of a girl, there. I bet you're proud, I know I would be."

"Yeah...." her dad said, suddenly smiling. "I've never been more proud of her. Can't wait to see her work when she's full term. Maybe I'll buy her a set of fake tits for you guys to stress test?"

"It'd be my pleasure. That girl's got a long career ahead of her...."

[ginsengkitten]

༺ Beautiful Dangerous ༻

A slashxreader fanfiction

༺☆༻

Chapter Six

DAVE

A/N: slightly filler sorry

“Hi Daddy”

“Yeah, things are great!"

"No I'm not getting into any trouble daddy I promise."

"Yes Daddy, is mama there too?"

"Hi Mama."

"Yes my birthday was wonderful."

"No mama I'm staying out of trouble. You know how tight a ship Aunt Shena runs around here.."

"I promise I'll call more often!"

"Alright, I love you both. Mhm...Bye now."

You let out a sigh of relief and rest your back against the wall, clutching the phone still.

You wished your parents called to check in because they truly cared, but you knew it was just breathless attempts to make sure you weren't pregnant or run away. Each phone call with them felt like an interrogation. And boy if they waterboarded you right now you'd have much to tell.

It had been three days since the baptism by fire that was your birthday. When you had awoke the next morning you couldn't help but tingle with excitement when you remembered it wasn't all a dream. But your head felt like nails being hammered. You can't exactly recall how you and Daisy managed to sneak in at 2 am undetected.

Daisy ended up dumping Joel via phone call the next day however. She wasn't exactly head over heels at the fact that his shady friends had tried to assault you that night. Daisy was unphased by break ups, mainly because she was always the dumper and never the dumped. It made her feel like she had a sense of control in her life to be able to maneuver guys like that. With Joel out of the picture she no longer had much desire to schedule another visit with the band. You however were going practically crazy trying to figure out how to see Slash again. He clearly wanted to see you right? The kiss you shared replayed on your mind on an endless loop. You try desperately to remember everything despite your subdued state of mind, down to the minute details. The way he had protected you from those guys. He beat the shit out of them. And then the way he nursed you to health again. And finally the way he looked at you. The reoccurring look that led to the most passionate and flavorful kiss.

The way his large hand held your face as he sank his lips into yours. The way he -

BRRRRRINGGGG

you jump and practically drop the phone out of your hands but toddle it back into your grip.

It lets out another aggressive ring

BRRRRRINGGG

you decide it's appropriate that you answer it. No one else would anyways.

"Hello?" You try to sound like you live there and this call is completely for you.

"Foxey." A familiar voice recognizes yours.

"It's Slash." He says

Your heart beats out of your chest.

"Slash! Hi...!" You try not to sounds so obviously thrilled.

"Slash how did you get this numb-"

"Meet me at the Roxy tonight at 8 PM." He proceeds and ignores your confusion. You look around the guest bedroom and then peek down the hallway trying to assure no one can hear this.

"Oh I-" You don't know how to respond. You're doubtful Daisy will want to go after dumping Joel, and the family planned to go to a fancy dinner party tonight down the street at some big producers house.

"See you then Foxey." He completed and the line hangs up.

Your heart beat fast. How on gods green earth do you make this happen? It HAS to happen. Without daisy at your ready to escort you? Is that really something you're ready for? You shake the doubts from your mind and devise a plan to fake sick.

You had dabbled in the art of bullshitting and knew your way around a fake sick every once in a while. It wouldn't be too hard. No one would bother you as to the fact that Aunt Shena would rather die altogether than get a cold and miss her....crochet circle meetings. And if Daisy was forced to go it's doubtful she would try and bother you if you just locked yourself up in the guest room. The thought of being so rebellious made you foggy with excitement and anticipation.

-

You ruffled your hair a bit to look disheveled, and then gave each of your palms a quick lick to ensure optimal clamminess.

"I'll go let ma know you can't make it. God, you really gonna make me suffer through this alone then?!" Daisy finished examining your ailments and fixed her fancy dress in your mirror. Daisy gave you an auspicious look but dropped it, there's no way you of all people could fake sick, she thought. You followed the family out to the living room as they prepared to walk out. Trying to portray yourself as weak and meager as possible. "I apologize again Aunt Shena, I do wish I could make it." You lie. She is so busy getting ready that she hardly has time to investigate the validity of your statement. "All is fine dear, make sure you turn the cable off by 9pm, Rob will have another hernia if he sees any more on the bill." She mindlessly says while primping her hair. "Actually I'm pretty beat, I'll probably head to bed here soon." You lie again.

"Yes yes you rest up now dear." She says mindlessly again. "See you, have a wonderful time!" You bid adieu as they disappeared out the front door with the click of the lock. You peer out the curtain to ensure they have left before practically sprinting to Daisy's room. You lunge under Daisy's bed and lug out a large orange suitcase. Daisy kept all of her "cool" clothes in here. All the clothes her parents would not approve of. You had to look cuter than last time. No way were you going to dress like some schoolkid again.

After peddling through 3-4 clothing ensembles, you pull out a cheetah print minidress. Cheetah print was the IT print these days. It's very...bold. Too bold? Try too hard? Gosh you really do like it though. Daisy won't mind right? Of course not. She'd be impressed if anything that you managed to bullshit her of all people. Was is right of you to though? Maybe not....

You again shake the doubts from your mind and throw it on with your leather coat and Daisy's knee high boots.

You sneak your way into Aunt Shenas bathroom and peruse her plethora of expensive designer makeups and perfumes and land yourself on a pretty daring shade of red lipstick. No turning back now right?

After cautiously covering your tracks you lock yourself into the guest room and shut off the lights. Hm.

You pull out a sticky note and write "MIGRAINE :(" on it and slap it on the outside of the door for added measure. There, you take a moment of pride in your get up and your lock up just as soon as you realize a key issue. How the FUCK are you supposed to get there?! Fuck that's the most important part you idiot! Maybe if you walk really fast? You had some left over money maybe you'd walk to a bus station? What time do they even run around here? These thoughts plan out through your mind as you James Bond your way through the side window of the room. Frustrated your plans boil over in your mind and you misstep causing you to fall the 4 ft into the bushes below. "Jesus Christ!" You moan out trying to rescue yourself from the bush.

"Don't let your aunt hear you takin the lords name in vain like that, then you'll never get to sneak out." An older man's voice startles you. The side window opens out to the side of the house that connects into the neighbors driveway, where you find Dave out next to his truck smoking a cigarette. “Please don’t tell.” You blurt out. He laughs.

Dave was the long time neighbor of your aunt and uncles. The RUMOUR was that while he was successful in the stage building industry, most of his fortune came from allegedly being one of the finest drug suppliers in Hollywood. Unbeknownst to his devoted Christian neighbors of course. Dave was an unassuming, tall lanky man in his upper 50s with a handlebar mustache who always wore denim bell bottoms and a vest at all times. He could be found smoking a cigarette in his driveway next to his Ford almost every night. Dave was cool and laid back and usually always high.

He put his hands up in arrest. “I ain’t seen nothing girlie.” He chuckles.

You stand up and brush yourself off and look around, still trying to figure out your way around to downtown.

“Well. I’ll be seeing you.” You state as normally as possible. To which is udder bullshit to Dave.

“Must be somewhere pretty cool to be worth sneaking out of their house for.” He says.

You halt out of manners to not abandon a conversation.

“Yeah….going to a show. A rock show.” You feel comfortable to admit. You knew he wouldn’t snitch.

“A rock show…well hell kid, down on the strip would it be?” He inquires as He lazily continues his cigarette.

You nod yes.

“You wouldn’t happen to need a ride down that way now would you? I’m headed down to the Rainbow club to fix a stage hinge. Whole stage almost collapsed underneath some rock n roll group gettin down a little too hard. Screwy plywood they used, totally not MY work.” He assures genuinely. It seems like he really did have a passion for stage building after all.

“Really?!” You exclaim. “I mean I- you don’t HAVE to I don’t want to impose-“ you say excitedly.

“You just say the word kid but I’m heading out now so either hop in or get walk-in!” He laughs.

Something about Dave had a green flag for you enough to hop into the cab of his truck. It REEKED of marajuana. The truck rumbled awake like a decrepit, zombie like form of the purr that the Firebird made. “Say Dave- you got all this money. I won’t pry as to why, but wouldn’t you want to invest in a….safer vehicle?” You ask him. Dave laughs heartily and coughs out a few smoker like hacks. “This truck? This trucks special kid! The memories this baby holds are worth more than all the safety in the world. I’d die a happy man with my memories with this truck even if it killed me man!” He said.

Dave proceeded to give you a run down on all his favorite, drug enhanced memories spent with the truck including a police chase, his proposal to his first wife Becky, and the birth of his 2nd kid with his 3rd wife Christie. He made a point to identify a particular stain on the seat cushion to prove it although he really…really didn’t have to. His stories made the drive fly by and before you knew it you were pulling up to the Roxy.

“Truly thank you Dave.” You thank him with all your heart. Dave was a real one. He gave you an almost fatherly look of ‘be careful out there young lady’. “I’ll be at the rainbow should ya need me kid. Just ask for Big D, they’ll kno what ya mean.” He said genuinely expressing care for your well-being.

“Right.” You confirm kindly and shut the door behind you as he rumbles off loudly. Before you stood a familiar scene. The street lined with cool and mysterious characters buzzing around wildly. A mix of loud chatter and live music billowing outside the venue. Man he didn’t really say where to go did he…? Maybe the stage door again?

[radioactive-earthshine]

Hello. I'm very new to DC as in I only got into it as of April of this year and it started the animated YJ side then moved into the comics. I don’t know a lot and I'm really confused about somethings. I do plan on reading the comics but for now that just seems really intimidating so I'm sticking with fics. I really am loving Sunshine Falling but I want to know about Thad and Preston bc they haven't shown up in the show and I'm so new I don't know where to look. Are they canon characters?

I know I keep saying how much I am stunned when people (comic fans) say they don't know who Thad is and then I remember you gotta start somewhere. While the Young Justice animation is excellent, it is an entire alternative universe to the comics in it's own world with it's own history and thus everything you have seen should be taken with some caution.

Thad and Preston are canon comic characters.

Preston Lindsay

Preston is one of Bart's best civilian friends and he shows up in issue #1 and is a reoccurring character throughout the majority of Bart's series.

He's a great friend to Bart and accepts him for who he is and thinks he's the coolest even if one of the first thoughts he had about him was that he was a JERK.

He gets over the chilliness very quickly.

We learn throughout the comics that he is an aspiring director, he loves films and he makes movies in his free time sometimes coopting his friends in his projects. He also LOVES comics and is partial to After-Life Avenger.

He's supposed to have BROWN eyes, ignore the fucking blue eyes istg.

Preston also becomes Bart's very first 'big case' where Bart had to choose to do the right thing over protecting his own secret identity. Preston is a battered child and the whole story unfolding around that can be read in issue #6 (probably one of the BEST issues in all of Impulse imho).

Bart saw Preston being abused in his home as Impulse, not as Bart Allen, so when he was prepared to report it he would essentially have to out himself. Bart chose (obviously) to help his friend rather than keep quiet to preserve his identity.

Preston and Bart grew VERY close after this issue.

Some other highlights from Preston include;

The time he got "shot" by toxic waste dumpers and he thought it was the coolest thing.

"One of those guys shot me? Oh, boy!" Then Bart's soul just departs his body in guilt.

Preston also thinks Bart's mom is hot, which is, y'know, a requirement for all future hero boyfriends that are bisexual.

Speaking of being bi... He thinks Bart is really cool and is the BEST if you know what I mean...

"He's really great!"

Preston is 10/10 a GREAT civilian friend and I miss him dearly.

Thaddeus Thawne

To read him at his best and most interesting read Impulse issues #51-#53 and the entire Mercury Falling arc #62-#66.

Thad's history with Bart is complicated. Thus far in the comics he is firmly on the side of villain/nemesis (and an extremely successful one). Regardless of no matter how much he should have had redemption, or how much one was already set up.

He's a clone of Bart and fulfills the "evil twin" trope. He was created first and foremost to be a weapon and an agent of misery to fuel nihilistic spite and hatred. It's complicated, and the short-hand version of it is the Thawne line is entrenched in a one-sided blood feud with the Allen line for overall petty comic reasons that are justifiable to them.

Thad had no say in this and did not even know there was another option... Until the Mercury Falling arc where he got a taste of something he never had while impersonating Bart... love.

Thad in particular bonded with Helen and described her as "so full of warmth" and as a person who loved him, and as someone who he genuinely liked. Thad also felt love from Max and was strongly swayed away from his "task" just by experiencing their love as well as Bart's friends' love.

Unfortunately...

"Condemning those who condemned him to this and solitary single-minded existence!" - That alone was the launch into a redemption arc, but no we can't have fucking nice things.

In a perfect world Thad would have come back. Max would be willing to accept to him back and he did offer to take him in when he learned that Thad had been impersonating Bart all along. There would be a little tension, some acclimating, and an entire issue could center around Bart and Thad finally trusting each other after mutually sucking to communicate or something.

We... did not get this.

His interest and character development plummets after Mercury Falling, and his highlights afterwards include successfully murdering Bart, and then suffering a fate worse than death via Wally who took all his speed and turned him into a living statue reminding everyone that the Flash Family is more like the Flash Mafia and you don't fuck with them.

So that is a rundown of these two and where to read about them Preston is in so many issues it's hard to pinpoint single issues but Thad's "run" is easier to single in on.

I am so very glad you enjoyed them in my fic.

They are going to be just fine together.

[cerealkiddie]

caregiver!gn!reader x regressor!venti

again, I don't play genshin (yet) buuut I think I know enough 2 write abt it ehe >< also can u tell I'm a band kid with my hc's, possibly ooc venti. tagging @theholylyre

he's probably clingy while big, yeah it gets amplified while small. he's stuck to you like a slime

oh my gosh he loves humming and making little tunes while regressed. please remind him to be careful with his lyre. (even if his fingers have gotten used to the strings, don't want em to get cut even a small bit! plus the concern makes him feel all giddy n fuzzy) probably has a flute and some sort of bell set :(

d'you think he draws how he looked like when he was a wind spirit? keep memory of his past self before he took his current form. probably draws other woodland creatures, a seelie every now and then

sleeps better when he knows you're there but usually has nightmares or doesn't sleep for long increments (either that or sleeps for 10 hours at a time)

loves hide n seek, his favorite game other than playing any music related games (if u can't find him and it takes to long he starts giving u hints. little tunes being whistled, thr magical chime of a bell carried by the wind and melodic giggles that follow)

definitely drinks less but he knows if he does relapse he can come to you

very very talkative, atp consider him an info dumper. though he loves knowing he has ur attention. he's ramble about anything and everything. especially different alcohols, taste profiles, etc.

also,, angel and dove regressor. (thinking abt his archon form)

angel regressor flag crd. dove pet regressor flag crd.

ddlg/abdl/nsfw/variants dni! add any of ur own headcanons in the comments or reblogs ! post belongs to me ☆

[bebe-thewriter]

Guys…… my sister LOVES this man, but me personally, I think he’s a pussy ass bitch but I said my requests are open so I guess I will grace her with my skills. Also for my naoya haters read this! You might like the ending - BeBe🧘🏾‍♀️

“I’m so happy you dumped his sorry ass (y/n). That limp dick really didn’t deserve you.” Maki says.

“Yeah I have no idea what you saw in that pussy.” Mai adds.

“I have no idea either, honestly, my last straw was when he literally came and left me all disgusting feeling, with no sense of relief. He was selfish not only in life but in the bed as well.” I state.

Mai and Maki have a older cousin named Naoya who I thought was charming…… at first. They tried to warn me about him, but he acted so nice. He masked his true intentions so well that all his big red flags were starting to look so small and beautiful, I mean red is my favorite color.

But after the 4 month mark, his porcelain smooth mask started to crack and crumble, only to show his true disgusting intentions.

First strike- Naoya and I were out shopping and it was going realllyyyy well, I was really starting to fall for the guy but I noticed while I was trying to walk next to him he started to speed up. ‘huh weird.’ I thought. Maybe it was fluke! So I tried it again…. And he all but gently pushed you back. “(Y/n) you know that a woman is supposed to follow a man, not lead them, or work next to them. Meaning you stay towards my rear.” That shocked me, Naoya never talked to me like that. But I ignored it.

Second strike- Naoya and I were out in public once again. He decided to take me to a very nice restaurant. I was happy. But once again that happiness came to a halting stop. The waitress of the restaurant was a cute girl, traditionally Japanese, short cut with bangs, small stature and big beautiful eyes, and the cherry on top she was quit. Naoya ate that shit up. “See (y/n) that is exactly who you should strive to be!” He shouts randomly. And I just sat there shocked…. And embarrassed. “Where did this come from Naoya?” “You’re getting too big (y/n) your not that attractive anymore, and you’re never presentable, you could also try to be more traditional.” He scoffs, and all you could do was silently cry.

And strike 3 was the hump and dump. You. We’re. Done. With. His. Shit. And he had no say in this fucking break up, why? Because you didn’t let him get a single word in. And that was exactly why Naoya was so enraged. How dare a lowly women scuff his reputation like this. He was never the dumpie but the dumper!! “IF THAT BITCH THINKS SHES WON THAN SHES GOT ANOTHER THING COMING!” he yelled.

That girl was nothing but a cum dump, a whore, a tool for self relief, but she fought back and she prevailed! Call after call, text after text. Naoya would do anything to get her back, only to use her and show her who the fuck she was messing with. But she never answered, never text back, and she even blocked him on everything. He was livid and she was loving every second of it.

“YEAH FUCK THAT BITCH ASS NIGGA!” She yelled finally free of all the trickery, the fuckery, and worst of all the hoe-ary. She was livin it up, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

2 months pass and (y/n) was better than ever. Maki, Mai, Nobara, and her all were fuckin it up in some club with no care in the world. Suddenly the song All to you by Sabrina Claudio came on (no joke listen to this bitch right now) and the whole group already new what timing (y/n) was on….. demon time. (Y/ns) body had a mind of its own, rocking back and forth, slowly grinding against a new found warmth on her.

She started to stop and look back at the foolish mortal who’d dare to fuck up her vibe, when a strong hand gripped her jaw growling a deep “keep going.” And that is just what she did. The strangers hand slowly started to travel down from her jaw to her neck, lightly squeezing it, only for their hands to move back up her face. The stranger than wove his hands into her hair tightly gripping it, while grinding his now twitching clothed tip into her barley covered hot pussy. (I feel kinda awkward writing this shit)

Her skirt made for easy access as the stranger slowly trails his free hand from her stomach to her now dripping cunt. His big fingers start to bully their way into her. “Dude we’re literally on a dance floor.” She says voice barley a whisper. “I know, but that makes you wet, doesn’t it slut.”

There it is…. That voice… you know that bitch ass voice. Your head snaps t words the man who’s currently knuckles deep inside of you right now, only to see the one thing you were dreading to see. Your ex.

But you didn’t scream, or cry, or tell him to get away from you. All you did was say, “follow me Naoya.” In which he follows. You both end up in one of the clubs private rooms and let’s just say…. Y’all wasted NO time.

Teeth clashing together, hair being pulled, bitting, spitting, all of the above is happening. Naoya lifts (y/n) up and lines himself up with her and slammed up into her. She loudly gasps and tears start to form, after all it has been a while. A long drawn out fuck was uttered by Naoya, he was going to enjoy this. But before he got to continue his way, you pushed all your wait on him and slammed him on the bed. “I think it’s my turn, right baby boy.” All he could do was nod much to his dismay.

You don’t start off slow, you repeatedly slam yourself on Naoyas dick over and over again, you even decided to give him a show by twearking on that dick. Naoya didn’t know what to do, he never fucked you like this before, you were fucking the shit out of him!

“Pls stop *sob* pls *hick* I can’t take it” he pleads and that just makes you want to go even faster. “IM GONNA COME” he yells, but before he can finish, you hop off his cock. “What the fuck is wrong with yo-“ you then proceeded to sit all the way in that Niggas face and rode him silly.

Naoyas hips start bucking up as you ride his face. “Yeah fucking take it, be a good boy and finish off master ok? Yku can do that right?” You ask. He frantically nods his head …. Or tried to at least. You treated this shit like a rodeo and just keep going. Finally your orgasm creeps up on you and you finally cum by naoya, he greedily laps it up like a little dog trying to impress its owner. “My turn right master? Right!” He asks cock super swollen and big. “Nah I’m to tired.” You state. “I’m gonna head out first, but don’t worry I’ll call an Uber for you or smt.” You say walking out of the private room leaving a broken Naoya, his pride damaged but worst of all his dick was stopped up and you weren’t going to do anything to help.

AND YOU LOVED IT

Yo yo yo it’s BeBe this is my first time writeing smut so it’s cringe but yku got to try to improve so it’s whatever. Can y’all tell I hate this man, because I can go back and edit more of anger if you want. Also I hope you liked the ending I’m actually not a big fan of the misogyny thing in some blogs, I just want one blog where (y/n) fight back so I thought why don’t I just do it! And now we’re here anyways love yallll- BeBe out💃🏾

[professorspork]

ok your baseball post might be my favorite post of the hiatus thus far and it has inspired me to start thinking about my own rwby baseball headcanons so here they are if you are interested (please feel free to ignore)

I always thought Nora would be a good catcher—she’s sneaky smart and definitely has the classic catcher build. I see her as sort of being in the Cal Raleigh or Evan Gattis mode where she mostly hits for power but she would also have a strong arm and catch everyone stealing (plus she would LOVE Raleigh’s nickname lol)

Jaune on the other hand I see as a pitcher, but one kind of like Jamie Moyer or Mark Buehrle—he doesn’t throw hard at all but he has like 6 different pitches and is very clever about mixing them up and picking his spots and generally outsmarting batters.

I also like Sun as a centerfielder who always makes crazy athletic catches even though half of them are the result of him misjudging the ball off the bat. Definitely steals like 10 home runs a season but also forgets how many outs there are every few games.

Lastly, Cinder has “closer” written all over her. She’s got one gear and that gear is “fastball.” She throws 102 but has precisely two pitches. She can be insanely intimidating when she’s on the top of her game but if it falls apart it falls apart BAD.

Sorry for rambling in your ask box lol you’ve activated 2 of my biggest obsessions all at once

I AM VERY INTERESTED I WOULD NEVER IGNORE

THIS IS ONE OF THE BEST ASKS I'VE EVER GOTTEN

oh my god what you said about Sun reminded me of something I meant to put in my own post about Nora (😭 I knew I'd forget something) which is that she absolutely would say something like Nick Castellanos did last post season when he was asked why his defense was so much sharper in October and he was like "EVERYTHING IS HIGH STAKES I CAN'T ZONE OUT LIKE NORMAL SO I GET A GOOD JUMP ON THE BALL" and it's like someone please get this boy some ritalin he literally just said he's too ADHD for right field in the regular season

but yeah that is ABSOLUTELY Sun, you're so right. I had the dubious honor of seeing Jeff Francouer play the outfield at a Giants game in 2013 and. when I tell you I have never seen weirder and more out-of-the-way routes to balls in my WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE...

anyway i LOVE these headcanons and I definitely agree about the Big Dumper Energy. not sure what the equivalent of JOE MAUER POWER HOUR would be for Nora but it would absolutely exist. also just:

RF Nora 🤝 C Nora throwing runners out

and also frankly

C Jaune 🤝 SP Jaune thoughtful pitch selection

but like Jaune turning in like a 2012 WS game 1 Zito vs Verlander performance of just outfoxing people with mostly offspeed semi-junk on the regular is such a delightful thought (also lmao can you tell I was an Even Years Giants bandwagoner back in the day) i LOVE that for him

and oh my god Cinder is just. just literally Aroldis Chapman right down to being the worst fucking person in the world YOU ARE SO CORRECT

[allovertheworldblog]

Jacksonville to New Orleans

I caught the Skyway, a much ridiculed little electric monorail type affair

to get me to the Greyhound Bus Station in Jacksonville

to catch my bus to New Orleans, I’d be going through the night.

I remembered back to all the nightbusses I’d rode in South America and thought: ‘of course I can do this’.

It turned out to be one of the worst bus trips I’ve been on in my travels.

The Greyhound Bus Station in Jacksonville was alright, clean, safe, even with a small restaurant.

I looked at the departure list, it was hardly hectic.

There were a couple of departures every day to New York, everything else was a departure to another point in Florida and the frequency was limited.

I’m struck by the big number of staff around the place, yet they only one person 'checking in’ bags.

When I checked my bag, they put a tag on it and promptly gave the bag back to me.

I’d have to put it in the hold of the bus myself. 

My 13.30 bus pulls off just before 14.00, I’m in no hurry though.

Our 10-year old wonky wheeled bus is on the road, past pencil thin trees that are planted as if by a stylist, they’re in neat, ever so neat rows.

We pass Baker Prison, then Columbia Prison, they seem big affairs.

In Lake City a young guy with a clear plastic bag for a suitcase to carry all his clothes gets off the bus. Is he just out of prison?

In Tallahassee we have to change bus and wait an hour. Not impressed by the small grocery store in the station I go in search of a 7/11 or whatever.

I walk around Tallahassee in the 91F/32C heat of the late afternoon.

After not being able to find a store I make my way back to the bus station.

This bus takes us to Mobile, where we have to change busses, in the middle of the night.

We got to Mobile late, so we only have to wait 2 hours.

It’s after 01.00 and I feel like sleeping.

What kind of a person dreams up a schedule that would inflict this kind of unwarranted pain on people!

The bus gets in to New Orleans just before 06.00.

A baggage lady tells customers what they to do in order to claim their bag.

There’s a gun-totting policewoman there just to reinforce the point. 

The terminal is for the bus and train.

It’s a big affair that doesn’t seem to get too much call for it’s services, either bus or train customers.

During my travels in the States I’ve been reassured of my opinion that the car is king in the States, as regards travel.

It affords 'liberty’, of which Americans are so fond.

It affords 'personal liberty’ as well, you’re your own boss.

The motorbike also holds a special place in the hearts of Americans, it’s the ultimate in 'liberty’, it can go anywhere, anytime.

During my time in the States I came across a surprising number of bicycle users, I think this was more for economic reasons than for the health benefits that arise.

In the bus station they intermittently play low Jazz music over the speakers.

It’s too early to go to my hotel just yet, so I sit down and read the Times-Picayune newspaper, which I get from a vending machine for 75cents.

When I leave the station at 10.00 the New Orleans I encounter is one that puts me in mind of what New York must have looked like in the 1970’s.

The city I see first off seems 'a bit up in the air’, and 'a bit in the toilet’ at the same time. 

I wonder about Hurricane Katrina that devastated the city in 2006, how was the city affected, how is it still affected.

I’m remembering articles I read about New Orleans residents that were forced to move to other states and even across the States, on account of havoc wreaked by the hurricane. 

For some reason there are big old dumpy dumper trucks flying around the city centre all the time.

Eventually I find the bus to take me the 8 miles distance to my hotel.

I didn’t want to stay that far out of the city, but it was the end of Mardi Gras and the city was still busy. 

[8pinkdreaming8]

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐦𝐛

【Ｐａｓｔ】

Warnings- Death, mentions of war, more death, just all around bad stuff, blood

Ok let's get a few things straight, my real name is Cerise Olga Gauvain of the great Gauvain lineage. I was born in France and was the fourth sister of eight. I was gifted of course, I could play Beethoven, the violin, horseback riding the whole thing a rich kid would do. But that didn't last. A few days after I had gotten my powers my father took me down to his lab to test them, but it didn't go as planned. All I remember was the fire getting higher and higher, the bodies of my family, dog, crushed as blood spilt onto the gravel. I remember blood pouring from my eye as I screamed and cried for anyone, then someone took me, and everything went black.

Woke up in a cell the next day, it was small and cramped when I guard came in speaking in a language I didn't know at the time. Let's just say...My childhood was ripped away when I was five, they used me for experiments and tested my limits and how good I was on the front lines. I. Was. Amazing. The day I got to shoot someone was the day I became a soldier fighting and sometimes I would go with the others to visit small camps, then, I met him.

He has blonde hair and blue eyes that looked into my soul. Leopold was the name of the boy. I loved him...But in war, you have to make sacrifices, and he was my first one out of many. The camp was blown up, everyone died except me.

I decided to save people who were going to meet the same fate as him and did save many, but they found out and hunted me down. I ran through the woods gunshots firing at me until I made it to a small boat in which I made my great escape. I made it to the US a few days later and I helped them win the war. I didn't get anything though, I was in Florida at the time and decided to move to New York City. Home of stars, home of lights and home of! The homeless, I was one of the people you would fine digging through the trash looking for food usually in donut dumpers.

Until one day, the weirdest thing happened, I met a few people saying they could change my life, and so they did. I became close friends with a group of boys and girls called the teddy's run by four guys who took me in. Albert, cockist son of bitch you will ever meet, but damn it the guys got cash. Damien was quiet and never said much, he did know kung fu and taught some to me, but he alway knew where to get the goods. Drugs, booze, firearms, anything you could think he'd probably know where to get, but he did use almost all the shampoo so we would get almost three bottles.

Tony was the one with all the street smarts and knew how to pick up chicks at the drop of the hat, he always had someone over. He didn't care, boy, girl, as long as he was happy we didn't have to worry about him going sicko on us. Why did keep him around? Well for one he knew how to kill a person and get away with it and two, he was like a mother to us and was a nice person to hang with. Finally, Big Tom, the leader of the gangs and one of my best friends. The dude had connections from New York to Australia, he knew how to beat the pulp out of someone and had the best style, next to Damien. Though we were all messed up and bad people who the world shund, we were a family that cared and looked out for one another.

After a few months of living there, Tony got me in with the big leagues of the mob world, and then after training I became a hitman or hitwoman as they like to say. I was the best at my craft, having the best weapons and best skills. I was at the top of my game, until a new mission happened. I was supposed to babysit the mob kids for a few hours, but then I started babysitting more and more until it was my second job. 8-5 I would babysit, 6-12, I would kill and get paid, and after going home for the next year. It was a cycle for me, everyday was the same until I figured out what was really going on with those kids.

Turns out the family found out about my powers and decided to use the kids for a little experiment of theirs. Gave them artificial gifts so they could use them, I didn't want that of course so I had to leave. The life that I made was great, better than my original life even, but I knew if I did do something I would have my head chopped off. I felt shitty like think about it.

You made a life that you love and it's all ripped away is an instant and it fucking sucks. That day I said goodbye to them and then the guys, the guys that helped me and I helped them and when we were at a closed convenience store having a smoke there were gunshots, blood, sure I killed the people but they killed the only people I had left. I ran and never looked back, got on a pickup truck and left New York forever.

After that I decided to do the only thing I was good at, causing trouble. Got banned from the USA and moved down to Mexico living there for the next three years until some stuff happen and had to move here.

[the-firebird69]

The Giants and the tortuga have held off in the army of four octillion it was a battle but they did win.

Thor Freya

Will send more now it's an insult by an enemy and we have not identified yet therefore we must identify who it is by sending reinforcements. I am forming up eight octillion troops it is a very high number and we are getting lower on troops than we want

Mac Daddy

I'm sending for octillion from Asia to meet this threat it says how dare you they look just like me I'll say they look just like you and they're not you if you get used to it

Wie

Performing up eight octillion and setting them and we don't have that many left but we want to see what these things are and why they're so hard to bring down and what they're doing there why Baja

Russian papa

You know so must be a reason it's a serious number of giants and they're huge okay some of them are gigantic ridiculous over 200 MI and there's millions of them there's something going on down there he doesn't know what it is you think it would be the shadow dome in the ocean so you California or something I don't know what's for that down there so that big nothing? Our boy says...lol. we looked can't find anything it was kind of funny what's down there I don't remember anything how about nothing. Ken says it's the absence of something and Joe says well that's one thing I say that's nothing when I say that since I have nothing else to say I didn't know there's anything there of that size and proportion there's a bunker it's the size of one of them okay well that's probably not it you start laughing what the hell could it be. So it's going to take a look at it

We're sending observers I don't know what those things are why there's so many or where they're from

Preston

They're from Katya she's been taking it from the dump

Zues

Yes I have it doesn't do me the dumper and I won't take it in the dumper I'll take it from the dump and I'm using it and I'm making offspring and that trash you idiots of big mouths you should come here and rip everything out take them 10 minutes

Katia

You can kind of tell she's Mexican

Zues

Shut up

Mx auntie

Let's get to the bottom of this it's a mystery you still look at that stuff but those pictures have to be new I've never seen them no we're not going to call them Crakes thanks so

Mac

[relax-and-read-on]

My belive in the God of backpain gave me another idea. Which Character would the Primarchs be in a typical horror movie? So, the one who dies first, the one who survives through luck, one who is kinda smart but gets killed off in a dumb way and so on...

Oh anon, the god of backpain blessed you

Because

I fucking

Love

horror movies :D

If the primarch were stuck in a horror movies, wich troopy character would they be!!

Lion: The Cop. The one that show up and is sus of the main cast. Does not help at all. Depending of the type and era, might even be an antagonist.

Leman: The Jock. You know!! The funny type of stupid frat bro!! Usually get killed first, or at least very quickly. Not mean, just annoying.

Roboute: The Scholar. Mostly show up in paranormal movies. He will info dump the plot on the main cast, and will do his best to help. Usually die a very courageous self sacrifice.

Rogal: The Skeptic. The one that walk in and goes "everything is fine, ofc ghost/monsters don't exist!" Usually get murdered in a rather karmic fashion.

Corvus: The Final Girl. And I'm talking classic ones, that end the movie traumatised, covered in mud and gore and screaming their heads off as they fight the Big Bad. Yes, they get all the PTSD, but fuck are they cool.

Vulkan: The Puppy. There is sometime in horror movies one very sweet character, usually the audience fav. We root for them. We want them to survive. And yet... They usually get the horrific, needlessly cruel kill. The longer they survive, the worst their demise is.

Sanguinius; The Action Girl. The more modern version of the Final girl. They take back their agency, fight back from the start and WILL not go down gently. They don't always survive tho.

Jaghatai: The Local. Depending of the movie, they might be anything from the main antagonist, to a lore dumper, to a positive help. Always look somehow super hick and cliché. Potentially racist stereotype are happening too.

Ferrus: The Token Minority. He might be black, asian, latino, native... One sure is certain, he's not surviving this movie. Usually get a very early kill, sometime in duo with The Slut.

Fulgrim: The Slut (tm). Get killed very early one. Count double when it's a queer slut. They never get their happy ending and that's Not Fair. Be warned of homophobia and slut shaming when they are present.

Alpharius Omegon: The Creepy Twins. Talk in sync, usually have very little relevance to the plot, will just be there to freak you out.

Horus: The Secret Killer: He's one of the main cast. Charismatic and charming, you still do feel like something is slightly... *Off* about them. Usually get the twist ending of being the serial killer, and you more or less saw it comming

Mortarion: The Quiet Kid. Usually a red hearing if its a serial killer type of deal. Everyone will accuse them of being behind the crimes because of their Quiet and Broody way, while they did nothing wrong. Often survive! And if they play their card right, may end up with the final girl.

Angron: The Past Survivor. This one is usually a more modern archetype. They are the one that got away from the hands of the monster, and who are now dedicating their life fighting it. Very short lifespan usually.

Magnus: The Nerd. In more modern movies, the nerd sometime survive! They still usually make it very far, as their Nerd Knowledge is essential to the plot. Get often very kicked down by the narrative.

Perturabo: The Asshole. He's a "friend" of main cast and you have no clue why. He usually is there to get a very violent, often ironic death, that the audience can cheer on.

Lorgar: The Priest. You know the ones. Those that show up and are JUST a tad off. Definitely in a satanic themed movie. It's 50/50 if they are actually evil, but he will have a very graphic death.

.... And Konrad: The Monster. You know it was coming. You knew what he was. He's every insanely powerful villain. Every slasher antagonist. Every demonic entity. He's powerful and terrifying and impossible to stop, a literal slow march of death. If he's coming for you, there is nothing to be done. The quite literal boogeyman nightmares are made off.

[im-poe-dameron]

Chapter Six

A/N: It feels like forever since the last chapter came out, but here we are finally getting into the good parts of the story. I’m iffy about how this chapter turned out, but hopefully y’all like it!

Note: I no longer have a taglist so I’m sorry to those who were tagged.

Summary: A day out was meant to be fun, so why did things keep going wrong?

Word Count: 13k (at this point expect it)

Pairing: 1980s!Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: (the reason we’re all here) Explicit so SEE YA THE FUCK LATER MINORS, oral (f receiving), cussing as always, angst so much that it’s ridiculous, feelings ew i know, mention of exhibitionism, tw: depression, fluff. let me know if i missed anything.

    There comes a time in anyone’s life that there ends up being a predicament. A problem if you will. It could be majorly life changing, or so minuscule no one catches it until it’s too late. Or it could be extremely stupid and the person is being over-dramatic about what the outcome would be of said predicament. Although saying you were being over-dramatic was a bit of an understatement. If people were giving out awards, you’d now hold two different types. One for best trash dumper, according to what you told Din, and the other for being dramatic when it comes to whatever situation you were in at that moment. Here was your predicament:

    You couldn’t leave your fucking bedroom.

    Well okay actually…

    You could leave the room. The doorknob worked perfectly fine, but whether or not you wanted to turn it was a different situation altogether. After Din left and Liv had practically cornered you in the kitchen you had spilled everything to her. How you met him, what happened in the past weeks, the mind-blowing night of sex, all the way up to the icky problem of whether or not there were feelings. Her conclusion was to tell him how you felt.

    But that was your problem. You weren’t sure how you felt. Which was an obvious lie to yourself and to everyone around you, but you couldn’t admit that you liked him as more than just this. That you wanted him for more than some good conversation and sex that had you daydreaming about it. Sure they were the best parts, but then there were the parts of him that you didn’t know about yet. His past. Who he really was outside of the bar.

    You wanted to know Din instead of just your Romeo.

    So, you continued to pace the floor of your room, his shirt clad on your body with nothing else. Did you miss him? You weren’t sure if you missed him or just had anxiety about talking to Liv again about this situation. Because when it came down to it, you could like him all you wanted. Fuck you could love him, but it wouldn’t mean anything if he didn’t reciprocate those feelings, and that’s what terrified you. What made you shove those potential emotions down.

    Letting out a groan, you took a deep breath and mentally said fuck it, before opening the door. Probably a mistake, but why not go out and risk spilling absolutely everything you’ve ever felt about this man. Again. Liv was just that good. All through college she managed to get things out of you, even if you didn’t want to say them. You took a step out into the hallway, peeking around the corner and sure enough she sat perched on the edge of the couch, a cup of coffee in her hand.

    “I was waiting to see how long it would take you to come outside,” she said.

    You should have stayed in the damn room.

    “Morning to you too Liv.” Heading into the kitchen you followed her, taking the cup of coffee she handed. “You know it’s creepy to sit there and watch my door.”

    “Creepy maybe, but we haven’t finished talking about this.”

    “Talking about what?”

    Maybe if you brushed it all under the rug she’d give you a chance to escape answering any more questions. Although that was a big maybe, and if there was one thing you understood about Liv, it was that she didn’t like to leave things unfinished.

    “How about how you had sex in the kitchen last night?”

    You choked on the coffee, feeling the heat burn your face. “It was a spur of the moment thing.” What a good excuse.

    Her lips tilted up into a knowing smirk and you knew with a few words she’d have you relenting, and sure enough. “Spur of the moment right. So, what about before I got home? Our neighbor called worried that someone was getting killed.”

    It was official, you were moving out and never coming back. Maybe Romeo would let you stay at his place until you could find one. Except even you knew he’d never let you leave.

    “I told her it was you.”

    “Liv!” you shouted, getting ready to throw your cup at her.

    “She wanted to know if you were able to walk this morning.”

    Just as you got over the fact that Poe heard you and Din, now you were dealing with your neighbor asking if you were okay to walk. The predicament no longer needed to be explained. You were stuck between screaming or flinging yourself out of the open window, and both sounded like a good idea.

    “You love to embarrass the fuck out of me don’t you?” you asked, running a hand down your face.

    She shrugged. “Look this is the first time I’ve seen you like this Y/N.”

    “Like what? Having sex that makes the neighbors worry?”

    “Happy.” She knew she had you there, seeing the way you wouldn’t meet her eyes, and you hated that she was right. “The asshole before Din...he dimmed everything about you. I could see it. A few weeks spent with this bartender of yours and you look better than you have in years.”

    Running your finger over the rim of the mug, you tried to come up with something to say. Tell her that you knew she was right, knew that Din had changed you in the best ways, but also tell her that you couldn’t do what she was suggesting. You couldn’t fall in love with him, because the last time you gave up your heart, you were left with trying to find the shattered pieces. Some lost forever.

    “I can’t Liv.” You let out the breath that was caught in your throat. “I want to, but I can’t.”

    She sat closer, forcing you to bring your eyes to hers. “I know you can’t. So, do this instead.”

    “What?”

    “Don’t let him go. Okay? Even if you can’t love him yet. Don’t let him leave, because you’ll get scared. Don’t give me that look, I know you will get scared. And when you do, you push people away, but don’t do that with him.” She patted your arm, slipping a card underneath your hand. “He’s special.”

    “What’s this?”

    She shrugged, slipping on her jacket and drinking the last of her coffee. “You still need a plus one to my wedding. That’s for your plus one.” Grabbing her keys she headed towards the door. “Maybe a certain bartender would be interested,” she called out before you heard the door shut.

    Her words settled in your chest, the weight of them nearly crushing you altogether. You knew she was right. Knew that if you let your fear of love get the better of you, Din would become a faded memory in the back of your mind. Except how could you love a man who hadn’t told you everything about him yet? You trailed a finger down the flower pressed into the paper, seeing your name written on it next to an empty line.

    It was probably a terrible idea. One you’d regret for a long time, but you could blame it on your spur of the moment ideas later. Picking up the pen she left, you quickly jotted his name down onto the paper, knowing that Liv may love to torture you, but she was right. You just had yet to completely realize how much she was right about.

    Now the only predicament you had left, was going to be convincing him to attend said wedding. How you were going to go about that, would be a surprise even to yourself. Whether or not he’d say yes...that’s what you were worried about.

    You never had issues walking into the bar before. But now you had a reason to avoid him; to simply say you weren’t going to deal with this problem right now. Except you wanted to deal with it. To just get it over with and ask him if he’d go to a wedding with you. Granted the friend whose wedding it was had in fact seen him naked the night before so he might not be inclined to attend.

    So many different factors that one had to consider in order to even have a small chance at Romeo accepting the invite. For all you knew he never left the damn bar. But he’d left for you the night before. In fact he insisted, but then again you needed a ride and he offered, so it might have been a one time thing.

    All of this continued to run through your head and it never really occurred to you that the longer you stood outside of the bar, arguing with yourself mentally, the more you’d look like a total dumbass. No one would blame you for being hesitant on going in, because if they’d met Din I tend to be an asshole when it suits me and when I’m joking Djarin, they would know why you kept turning away from the front doors of the bar.

    “Just go in,” you muttered under your breath. “Don’t be a little bitch.”

    How bad could it go really?

    Your hand was on the set of keys he gave you before you were walking back to the road again. The answer was...it could go really wrong. One option would be he’d turn you away; tell you to never return to The Crest. OR. He does say yes and then you have to figure out what happens from there. What would Din even look like at a wedding? How would he act? All of these questions kept you from actually putting the key in the lock and while you wanted to go in, take your own advice and get it over with...you were terrified.

    “What the fuck!” you shouted, throwing your hands in the air. “This is ridiculous.”

    “Who are you talking to?”

    Screaming you turned around, grabbing for the pocket knife you kept in your jacket pocket only to see Poe leaning against his bike, helmet still in his hands. He looked as if he was trying not to laugh and honestly you wouldn’t blame him. This whole situation was laughable.

    “Myself.”

    He nodded, eyebrows raised. “And how’s that going?”

    “Very well. I make a great conversationalist.” You. Make. A. Great. Conversationalist? What the absolute fuck was wrong with you? Seriously? Where do you come up with this stuff? “What are you doing here?”

    “Came to pick up my paycheck and then I’m out of here.”

    Out of here?

    “Did he give you the day off?”

    He shook his head. “Bar’s closed today apparently. He told me the other night not to bother sticking around for long.”

    So that’s what that conversation was about.

    The bar was closed? In the almost month you’d been working there, you’d never once dealt with the bar being shut down. Was he okay? You tried to run through important dates to see if maybe you missed a holiday, but nothing came up, meaning this must have been a decision he made quickly last night. Poe opened the door holding it open for you and you forced yourself to take the first steps into the bar, getting over this ridiculous fear you had.

    “Did something happen between you two last night?”

    Other than you finding out Romeo has an exhibitionism kink, would fuck you in a bar full of people, and is now able to read your body language just as well as your mind. Not much. All in all, you were completely and utterly fucked. But who could blame you? He was addicting in his own way with everything he did and everything he was, but that had become a different matter altogether.

    The place felt quiet. The kind of silence that came with early mornings. Before people dared to ruin it with their noises, and it was the kind that you craved that morning. Waking up beside him as the sun began to break through his curtains. Yesterday had been something that you didn’t know you wanted, didn’t know that you harbored thoughts of until it happened. Except it was dangerous to do this; to fall for someone who hadn’t specified more than calling him yours as to what this was.

    For all you knew everything he said was just the effects of the moment still coursing through his veins. It was a horrible thought, but you had to consider every option to save yourself from heartbreak.

    “What do you plan to do today now that the bar’s closed?” you asked, in a borderline helpless attempt to distract yourself from your own mind.

    Poe rifled through a stack of papers before finding the one he was meant to sign. “I’m heading to my friend's record shop. She’s having some sort of theme day there so I’m helping out.”

    “Record shop?”

    He nodded. “The Falcon. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it.”

    “Is it right by that pizza place? The shop that has a large poster of-”

    “Hendrix. Yeah that’s the one.” He scribbled a note on another blank piece of paper, attaching it to the one he signed before leaving it on the bar. “You should come by one of these days. Rey would love you.”

    “Rey’s the friend?”

    He smiled. “She’s the friend, yes.”

    “Is she more...than a friend?” You were teasing him at this point, but it was working. No longer did thoughts of Din and only Din plague your mind.

    Poe shook his head, his laughter echoing across the bar as he tried not to fall over. “Definitely not more than a friend.”

    “She has a...boyfriend?”

    You watched as he nearly choked on his own spit from laughing so hard, and wondered what on earth you said that was so funny. Maybe it was the kind of friendship where you couldn’t think of them as more than a brother or a sister. What you couldn’t believe was that this was the most you’d learned about him in all the time he’d been working here. You were so caught up with Din you never bothered to get to know Poe.

    “I think if I were to ask Rey out her girlfriend would murder me. Although she’d be nice about it.”

    A sound came from upstairs, catching your attention, but you chose to ignore it. You knew it was him, knew that he heard you two downstairs and was probably getting dressed to come join. What had he been doing to get up so late? You figured he had to shower and probably-

    Fuck that.

    You weren’t going to fall down a rabbit hole of thoughts about him in the shower. Again. So, you paid attention to what Poe was talking about, allowing all thoughts of him to leave your mind.

    “How long have they been together?” you asked.

    “Three years. Elora and Rey are the perfect couple, which is a lot coming from me. Seeing as how I can’t keep a relationship going for more than a month.” He tried to laugh it off, but you saw it. The way he spoke about his friend’s relationship, the longing in his eyes; he wanted something like that.

    You smiled, putting your hands on his shoulders and forcing him to meet your eyes. “She’s out there Dameron. You’ve just been looking in the wrong places.”

    He huffed out a laugh. “Oh yeah? You mean she’s not spending her time in a biker bar?”

    “Trust me she’s not.”

    “And if I were to steal you away from Djarin?” He was merely joking and you knew that, but it felt too fun to drop it right away.

    “You wouldn’t be able to handle me Dameron.”

    He smiled, and you could see the light return to his eyes; the longing now forgotten for a small amount of time. “Something tells me even he can’t handle you.”

    Was he wrong about that? Not really. Some truth was held in his words, and you were glad he saw it too. Din didn’t know what he was doing when it came to you, when it came to the game you were playing. It’s how you were able to win per se. He didn’t know how to hold out, how to fight against you, and you weren’t sure if you should be proud about that.

    At least not yet.

    “He tries.”

    “Tries what?”

    All that distracting, staving off the yearning, the desperation for him, none of it worked, because the second you heard his voice you were gone. The thoughts of him flooding your mind, forcing your heart rate to rise exponentially until you felt like it would burst out of your damn chest. How the fuck did he have this much of a hold over you? To a point where you couldn’t even remember what you and Poe were talking about.

    Because there was. Standing a few feet away from you, an arm resting on the bar as he leaned against it, watching you. Was Poe even there anymore? You couldn’t tell. Din had trapped you once more in his gaze, his eyes roving over you until you felt too warm in the jacket. It should be impossible to be this attached to someone. To want them every second of every day, and yet there you were, trying to ignore the urge to kiss him. Opting for a smile instead.

    Poe cleared his throat, breaking your somewhat staring contest with the man mere feet away from you. “Before you two jump each other while I’m still here, can I get paid?”

    Heat spread across your face as you tried to ignore the thumping of your heart. Nothing more awkward than making other people feel awkward, and at this point it seemed like you and Romeo had a fucking talent at doing just that. Poe ended up in the crosshairs more than he probably liked, and well you didn’t blame him for wanting to get out of here as quickly as possible. With the way Din was looking at you, there was no doubt you’d be spread out on some surface the second you were alone with him.

    Not that you minded. You just didn’t want to have to go through the mortifying aftermath that was having other people hear you.

    “Let me get your check,” Din said, his eyes never leaving your face.

    Something told you he knew what thoughts were going through your mind, and he must have liked it. At least if the smile he flashed you was anything to go by. You had to have a tiny bit of self control around this man. Enough to have another normal conversation with him rather than waiting till you were alone in order to ride him in the middle of the bar. Nope. Riding him in the bar was a bad idea.

    “Nothing happened last night…” Poe’s lips tilted up into a shit eating smirk. “You sure about that, because it looks like a whole lot happened.”

    You sighed, tossing your jacket onto the bar. “Shut up Poe.”

    His roar of laughter had you shrinking into the seat, trying to avoid...well...life in general. Could you sink into the floor? If it was at all possible, you wanted to try it and perhaps just keep going until you hit the center of the Earth. It would be there that you’d live out the rest of your days, forever to be remembered as the girl who used to work at that place. Oh yeah and she was fucking her not so much a boss but still a boss.

    There had to be a joke in there somewhere.

    You swear you were the plot line to the next great stand up comedian show. Hearing him come back in caused you to focus your attention on the bar and only the bar. No reason in giving Poe more ammunition than he already had. Even if he was just as horrified as you were yesterday for what took place.

    “Thanks.” He rounded the bar, patting you lightly on the shoulder before grabbing his helmet. “Have fun you two.” You felt like you could breathe. Somehow he managed to not mention anything about you and Din again. “But not too much fun. Please don’t get Y/N pregnant. I’m not ready to be an uncle.”

    You take it back.

    Mortifying didn’t begin to cover how you felt. And death wasn’t a good enough option for what you wanted to do to Poe I’m a little shit who can’t keep my mouth closed Dameron. His eyes widened as you turned in the stool, your glare practically burning a hole through him.

    “What I mean is-”

    “Shut up Poe.” Your head turned as Din said it at the same time, his own glare worse than yours.

    Poe nodded. “Fair enough. Thanks for the pay day boss.”

    “Don’t call me that,” Din said, his voice holding no room for playing any sorts of games.

    “Right. Uh... Rom-”

    A bottle was set down roughly on the bar. “Get the fuck out of my bar.”

    You attempted to smile discreetly into your hand as the sound of the door shutting and an engine revving echoed back to you. And just like that you were once again alone with the man who occupied your thoughts more than he should. Do you raise your head? Eventually you’d have to, but the bar looked quite interesting from this viewpoint. Only it wasn’t and you were doing nothing more than just trying to save your own ass from the terrifying thing that happened to be feelings.

    “Hi.”

    Huh?

    Glancing up at him, you saw him leaning behind the bar, arms crossed over his chest awkwardly. Did he just say hi? He never said that. Usually it was just speaking right away that was his way of doing things. You took note of how he wouldn’t fully meet your eyes, continuing to glance around the bar instead, and it dawned on you. He was nervous. Din Djarin was nervous to be alone...with you. The rush of euphoria you got from that little fact should have been illegal, but you couldn’t help it.

    “Did you just say hi?”

    He cleared his throat, finally meeting your eyes. “Would you prefer hello?”

    Standing up you rounded the bar, coming to halt right across from him and crossed your arms as well; enjoying the sight of him on edge. “That depends entirely on you. Do you prefer hello? Or is hi the way you usually go?”

    “You talk a lot you know.”

    Your lips tilted upwards slightly. “Well there’s plenty of ways to shut me up baby.”

    The words shocked even you, as the nervousness turned into something else. Something that felt electric, and you were sure if you were standing next to something metal you’d electrocute yourself. His eyes met yours, the brown shifting into something darker until you couldn’t discern between his iris and his pupil. You just had to open your mouth. Except something told you that he continued to like what you were doing, what your mind was focusing on.

    He’d gone a whole night without you just as you had with him. Which meant one thing. The desperation had risen to a level you hadn’t reached before. Each of you had a taste of the other and like cold turkey you had cut it off, stopped the flow of pleasure and forced yourself to go without. But now you were back, and he looked deprived of what he wanted most.

    “I mean if you want to...not if you want to but if you’re in the mood too…” You really should have stopped talking ten seconds ago, but it seemed your mouth was now in control as your brain put everything on cruise control. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Just ignore all of that. Please.”

    He was smiling at you, fully willing to let you continue on your rambling of whether or not he would be okay with shutting you up. And while any other time you’d stop talking and move onto another topic, you just couldn’t get your mouth to stay still. Was it just his power over you that did this? That turned you in a mess of blurted out words and awkward conversation topics.

    “If I’m in the mood too,” he said.

    You nodded, pressing your lips together to hopefully keep yourself from digging the hole you’d dug for yourself even deeper.

    “You’re cute sweetheart.” He huffed out a laugh, dropping his arms and stepping closer until you were caged in between him and the bar.

    How you were so confident last night confused you now, because it seemed that you were bending to his will all over again. He had to have some sort of powers. Some sort of magic in his veins to get you to willingly melt at his feet, to give into what he wanted without saying a single world...or more than two words.

    “We’re going somewhere today.”

    That was new.

    “We’re...what?” Din offering to take you home was one thing, but him going somewhere with you was a whole other thing on it’s own.

    “It’s a surprise,” he replied, leaning his forehead against yours, his hands pressing into the bar on either side of your body.

    You opened your mouth to respond and yet nothing but a choked sound came out. “Are we taking your car?”

    He smiled. “No. Why did you wear this?”

    The whiplash you felt from his question had you nearly flinching from it, but then you realized he was talking about your leather skirt, as he tugged on it. Really you hadn’t washed your jeans and it was either this or a pair of leather pants, and you figured he’d like this more. Your eyebrows furrowed. Did you just admit to yourself that you dressed for this man?

    “No clean jeans.” Good yes a simple answer. He wouldn’t be able to discern the true meaning from just that. Right?

    Fucking wrong.

    “I like it.”

    A tease was on the tip of your tongue, except the words died in your throat at the first touch of his palm against your inner thigh. He was warm. He always felt warm, but after a whole night without his touch, without him curled around you, he felt warmer than before. Almost as if his touch was searing into your skin, tattooing it there just like the ones he wore proudly on his skin. Leaving his mark on your body to truly let you know that he wouldn’t be anyone else’s. That everything he was belonged to you.

    “Thank you,” you managed to get out, feeling his fingers trail higher.

    He hummed into the skin of your neck, tongue trailing along the outline of your collarbone, as he continued to leave you practically shaking from the way his fingers trailed just below where you needed him.

    “Did you wear it for me?” he asked.

    You were about to scoff, tell him that you don’t wear things for other people, but his fingers pressing into your cloth covered slit had you clamping your mouth shut. Trying to muffle the moan that tore from your throat. You felt him smile, knew he was proud of reducing you to nothing but a mess, and you hated how much you liked it. How much you got off on it. But even you knew that you’d never really hate it.

    “Where are we going?” you asked, ignoring the hitch in your voice when his other hand pushed your shirt up.

    He didn’t say anything, his mouth too busy to form words, and you figured he wasn’t telling you because it was a surprise. Except then he pulled away, his hands coming to rest on your hips. You stifled the whine that threatened to escape, but noticed how he flashed you a small smile, his eyes alight with something you knew would ruin you. Something purely him. You had to say whatever Din Djarin was made of, whether it be stardust or some version of whiskey, he would always be addicting.

    “I told you.” Your eyes widened in shock, heart speeding up until it had your body shaking, at the sight of him dropping to his knees. “It’s a surprise.”

    “Romeo?” You glanced up warily, hoping that no one decided to come to the bar at this time. Even though the sun was up. But with the way you and him seemed to get caught, you wouldn’t be surprised if a customer walked in to see you this way.

    He was covered by the bar, so he wouldn’t end up getting caught. It’s not like he minded either way.

    Your answer was him pushing your skirt up until it was around your hips, the tug on your underwear drawing your attention away from the door. He wanted to kill you. At this point you were just glad that the bar was empty, but even you knew he wouldn’t care if it was at peak capacity. He’d do this to you regardless. You stepped out your underwear, the look in his eyes telling you that to argue with him would end with you on your back.

    “I’m starting to think you’re insane,” you said, feeling the adrenaline rush through you.

    What would go wrong? No one would come into the bar. Not at this time of the day, and yet the feeling in your gut told you that you were wrong. You should learn to listen to your gut, to take it literally. Yet how could you focus on anything right now, when he was hooking your leg over his shoulder?

    “Not insane sweetheart.” He sucked on the skin of your inner thigh, smiling at the sight of a shiver going through your body. “Just hungry.”

    You wanted to kiss him, to push him against the floor of the bar and have your way with him, but if there’s one thing you learned. He liked to be in charge. So, you relented to his kisses, to his tongue that trailed up your thigh until he was latching onto your folds. The gasp wracked your body, your hand digging into his hair as you clutched at the bar behind you. He had barely done anything to you, was only licking lightly at you, and the tightening in your stomach was already prominent.

    His touch satiating the fire in your veins, but also burning his own way through you simultaneously.

    “Din.” The grip on your thigh turned bruising at the moan of his name that echoed around the bar. You felt your knees nearly give out when he sucked your clit into his mouth, but he pushed you against the bar, your back digging into the wood.

    This wasn’t him taking his time with you, because even he knew that there wasn’t much left. You could feel the desperation in his touch, in the way he sucked, licked, and nipped at you. The urgency behind everything drove you to the very edge until you couldn’t discern anything beyond him. His name, his eyes, all of him. The tightening in your stomach grew, your hand pulling at his hair as your head tilted back.

    If you had known what you were doing, you would have stopped yourself from shamelessly grinding your hips into his face, but he seemed to enjoy it. The groan tearing from his throat as he yanked your hips closer, pushing you further into him.

    “Fuck-Din.” He would ruin you, tear you apart with just his tongue, and you’d ask for him to do it again.

    Glancing down you saw him staring at you, his brown eyes darker than the leather jacket he wore, eyelids drooped from lust and that did it. The sight of him losing himself in your pleasure sent you over the edge. Had you crying out his name as your back arched away from the bar, head falling back when he sped up his movements, now sucking your clit into his mouth until it was almost painful. He said something you couldn’t hear above the blood rushing through your ears, but then he repeated it again. The same language that he had gotten used to using around you.

    Your heart swelled at the thought that he was comfortable enough around you to use the language, and you wished that you understood it. Perhaps one day he’d teach you. Although even you knew that was simply a hope that you’d hold with you, because how long would you be in his life? A few months? At least.

    “I don’t know what you’re saying,” you mumbled, sounding as incoherent as you felt. Your head, still on cloud nine.

    He smiled. “Beautiful. I said you were beautiful cyar’ika.”

    “I don’t know what that means either.”

    “It’s kind of like calling you sweetheart,” he responded, hand cupping the back of your neck to tilt your head back. “But it can also mean other things.”

    At this point you weren’t sure if the high of your orgasm was making you practically float, or if it was just this. The tenderness of him telling you about a language he obviously cherished just as much as the memory of his parents. He was breaking down another wall. Turning the key and allowing you through the door, because he felt safe enough to do so. You wanted to kiss him now.

    Not for the passion, or the heat of the moment. You wanted to kiss him, because you could, because he was offering you a chance to finally get to know the man beneath the layers of armor he wore day after day.

    “What else can it mean?” you asked, finger trailing unconsciously along the vines on his chest. Even with his shirt on, you had already memorized their pattern, knew how they intertwined. The image of them ingrained in your mind, just as his touch was burned onto your body.

    You felt the shaky breath he took, the vulnerability in his eyes. “Darling.”

    “How fancy.”

    He nudged your nose against his, a smile pushing away the nerves. “Too fancy for you?”

    You shook your head. “I think there’s some appeal in you calling me darling.”

    “I think I prefer sweetheart,” he mumbled.

    “Oh yeah? Any reason?” You didn’t know how much time had passed since you got here, or if somehow the morning had stretched into the afternoon, but you found that you didn’t care. Didn’t find it in you to think about it, because you were here with him.

    His lips met yours, tongue sweeping into your mouth, the tangy taste of you hitting your tastebuds and wrenching a moan from your chest. Fuck you could keep kissing him for hours. Until your lips went raw and you had the taste of him memorized.

    “Because you taste sweet.”

    And there it was. The side of Din you’d never get tired of seeing. The one who could turn tenderness into searing passion. All the while still making you feel as if he was cherishing you. You choked on your words, clenching around nothing. Meanwhile he smiled, because he knew what he’d just done, knew that all you could think of was getting on your knees for him.

    “Do you do that on purpose?”

    His smile only grew. “Do what?”

    “You know what.”

    Dragging you closer, he kissed you roughly, teeth sinking quickly into your bottom lip and pulling at it until you were sagging into him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about darling.”

    Your snort followed by your laugh echoed off the empty walls of the bar and you watched as he tried to fight his own laughter. “Fuck you Romeo.”

    He stepped back as you shoved lightly at his chest and began to right your clothes. “Don’t you want to know what else it means?”

    “There’s a lot of ways you can interpret this word,” you replied.

    “It’s like that for most of the language.”

    Tugging him closer by his belt loops you slung your arms around his neck. “What else does it mean?”

    “Beloved.”

    He seemed to freeze the second after he said it, just as you did. Leaving the word to hang in the air as he waited for your response, waited for you to say something other than just opening and closing your mouth. Beloved. Why did you speculate that every time he said that word, every time he had called you that, he didn’t mean sweetheart? Why did the feeling in your chest hurt at the realization?

    With a dawning realization you understood. It was because it would always mean more. Whatever was between you and him, whatever was written in the fucking stars, it would mean more than either of you could comprehend. You continued to stare at him, seeing the light in his eyes begin to fade, all due to the fact that you couldn’t get your mouth to work.

    Beloved. Beloved. Beloved.

    The word replayed in your head like a warning, a damn alarm and you hated it. Your heart was telling you to run, but that’s the thing. You didn’t want to run, you didn’t want to do anything other than remain here, in his arms, as you learned more about who he is.

    “We should get going,” he said, beginning to pull away.

    Fuck. You ruined it by staying quiet, but in actuality you couldn’t stop screaming for joy in your head. He had given you some form of confirmation, finally, and yet you couldn’t give it to him in return. A mistake. Probably the biggest you’d make. One you wanted to take back.

    “It’s a long drive to the place.” He picked up your jacket, handing it gently to you.

    “Din.” It brought his attention to you, seeing as how you rarely used his actual name. “I-I’m sorry.”

    What were you sorry for though? That you couldn’t tell him you cared for him? That you couldn’t open your own heart to him like he had just done. Or was it because you couldn’t say those three words that sent terror to the very core of your being. That made you want to run and never come back. You were saying sorry because after the time you had with him, after everything he’d divulged to you, the will to say you loved him wasn’t there.

    He smiled, the pain prominent in his eyes, but none of it towards you. “There’s no reason to be sorry.” The breath he let go seemed to say he was moving past this topic and you figured it was for the best. For both of you. “Let’s get going.”

    Oh you fucked up. Major fuck ups don’t even qualify for how badly you messed this up, because you saw it. How he didn’t meet your gaze again. How his hands weren’t on you or even holding yours, because you couldn’t tell him how you felt. What were you supposed to say? Din Djarin I like you but not in the I love you type of way. More like I like you in the way one likes someone really important to them.

    It sounded horrific in your head, which meant it would only sound worse out loud. You opted to remain silent and allow him to do the talking. But that was the thing. Din didn’t talk unless he felt the need to, so you were just stuck in the perpetual silence that drove you insane. He had to say something, because at this moment you were terrified that he didn’t like you. That since you couldn’t say how you felt, he wouldn’t either.

    The garage door opened with a bang, before you were met once more with the sight of his black car and something covered. You assumed it to be a bike. Instinct set in and you began to step towards the passenger side of his car, but his hand on your arm stopped you in place.

    “Not the car?”

    He shook his head, yanking back the cover to reveal a black sleek motorcycle. It looked older, almost as if it had been used often but kept here to rot or until Din gave it away. You had been right before. Din had a past with the bikers that spent time in his bar, and while he answered you without answering you in the midst of a drinking game...you didn’t think it was real. Except there you stood, watching him pull out two helmets from a bag in the back, handing one to you.

    “Is this yours?” you asked. Of course it was his. Who else would keep their bike in his garage?

    “It’s mine.”

    “So you were in a biker gang.” You missed the way he winced at what you said, too focused on the skull painted onto one side of the bike. The same one he had on his hip...the one on his necklace.

    He huffed out a laugh. “I don’t like to call it that, but I suppose you can say that.”

    “You suppose?”

    “Just get on the bike sweetheart.”

    Sweetheart.

    You felt yourself visibly deflate as the tension left your body, the nickname a reassurance that he wasn’t mad. That he still considered you someone important enough to at least show this too. Show a past that he seemed to hide from everyone else. You traced the skull with your fingers, walking around the lethal looking vehicle, and expecting him to practically shove you onto the seat.

    Except he let you look. Let you admire what once was something he clearly used to be proud of, and gauged your reaction. What he was waiting for you didn’t know, but then it all became clear. Your hand froze, heart stopping at the sight in front of you, because you’d finally figured out an age old mystery that you accepted would forever go unanswered.

    “M,” you whispered.

    Painted in white, the letter M stood out, slightly scuffed and faded against the other side of the bike. He didn’t respond and you figured it was because he was letting you process what you were seeing, what you were realizing about yourself, and you mentally thanked him. Because you’d seen this same exact letter, in the same style on something else. Had tried to figure it out for yourself whilst you were drunk many times over.

    Slipping off your jacket you turned it around, trying to figure ways that you could prove you were wrong. How you could say it was just a simple coincidence, but then you glanced at the letter that was almost completely faded on the jacket, the stitches having been pulled out long ago.

    The day you bought it came back to you. Rifling through a thrift shop, trying to find something to go with the outfit you’d chosen for your date with your ex. It seemed like decades ago when in fact it was only a year. You hadn’t bothered with anything else once you came across the jacket, the faded and worn in leather just what you’d been looking for. And as you bought it, slipped it on for your date, and got ready to go you couldn’t help but wonder who it used to belong to.

    Why they’d want to get rid of such a nice jacket.

    “Romeo?” you asked, feeling your heart begin to race. “What-how- Is this yours?”

    He smiled softly, another type of pain in his eyes that you couldn’t discern. “Not anymore.”

    “Din?” you asked, stepping closer, feeling the temptation to give him a hug. To take away the pain in his eyes and replace it with something else, but you couldn’t figure how this happened.

    Is that why he let you stay that first night? Because he recognized something that was his. Out of all the jackets, out of all the stores you could have gone to, you ended up there. You picked out his, not because it looked good, or because it was soft. But because it felt right. Almost as if you were supposed to pick out that piece of old worn in leather and wear it proudly.

    Not anymore.

    He’d given up the jacket for a reason, and yet there it was, on your body, waltzing back into his bar of all places. You wondered if that’s why he didn’t let you go. Why he gave you a chance. He helped you sit on the bike, his lips briefly pressing against yours when he tightened the strap on the helmet and suddenly the engine was coming to life.

    Loud and dangerous; something that was the opposite of this man you knew, but then again you didn’t know all of him. You didn’t know what the M stood for. Didn’t know why he didn’t answer your question with more detail. You used to worry about who he was, used to go over it in your head what his name was.

    Yet somehow you knew him without knowing him.

    Had known him long before you even met him, because you carried a piece of him everywhere you went.

    Something tugged at your heart and after so long with him, you understood why he called you that word. Why he chose beloved of all things. Except now wasn’t the time to admit it to yourself, because you didn’t want to create another mishap. You didn’t want to scare him off, and more than that you didn’t want to scare yourself off.

    He got off the bike, teaching you how to keep it upright, before locking the garage door and rejoining you. You didn’t bother telling him that it was your first time on a motorcycle, because you could tell he knew. Especially with how slow he started out. Either that or your arms tightening around him with every turn told him. It’s not like you were scared of falling off, because he felt pretty sturdy, it was that you were terrified of getting hurt.

    How the fuck he felt so relaxed you’d never understand.

    Only about what felt like thirty minutes in, you felt the tension in your body release, the fear beginning to dissipate into something euphoric. You let go of him slowly as you pushed back, and tilted your head into the wind as he drove along the empty highway. Pure exhilaration. Almost like you were floating without floating. A rush of fear, joy, everything that you’d been missing and suddenly you understood why he loved it so much.

    His laugh hit your ears when you cheered, lifting your arms into the air, feeling more like yourself than you had in a long time. You didn’t know how much longer you had left on the bike, but knew that you’d be asking him to keep going. To just drive a little further. So you could feel this again.

    “You’re not so crazy after all Romeo,” you said into his ear, pressing yourself closer.

    He didn’t respond, but you knew he was smiling. Knew he was happy to have shared something with you and have you love it as well. Each turn on the bike, each time he sped up, you could feel how comfortable he was on it. How driving it looked to be almost second nature to him. All of it branded into muscle memory, and you relished in this sight. Of seeing him like this, like a Din you didn’t think you’d ever get the chance to witness.

    Maybe you’d end up being in his life a lot longer than you thought.

    You couldn’t tell how long it had been on the bike, but you did know you were in Upstate New York. The only times you’d been here was with Liv to find wedding venues and that was it. So when the city fell away to an almost country type land you knew that you were somewhere else. He parked the bike in a small town across the street from a gas station and down the street from a burger place. Quaint and quiet is how you’d describe this place; as if people here didn’t wish to live with more noise than need be.

    “Alright, I give, where did you take me Romeo?” you asked, swinging your leg off the bike.

    He helped you to pull off the helmet, watching you smooth down your skirt that you kept tugging at while on the bike. You pretended not to notice the way his eyes lingered longer on your bare legs than normal, and completely disregarded the way you wanted him to keep staring. This was ridiculous. He’d already made you cum on his tongue so hard you saw stars earlier, so there was no need to lunge at him again.

    You blamed the whiskey he drank. Always so fucking addicting for your own good.

    “Do you remember the burger place I told you about?”

    You nodded. “Apparently the best burger place in all of New York. Which I still disagree with. Pete has the best and always will.”

    He scoffed, taking your hand in his and tugging you along the way. “You keep saying that sweetheart.”

    “I will keep saying that.” You glanced at the old style diner look this place held, almost like a small home. “How do you even know this place?”

    “An old friend of mine owns it.”

    “You have other friends Romeo?” you gasped, feeling him yank lightly on your arm to pull you back towards him.

    “Other than you, yes.”

    Fighting against the smile that threatened to show at how he called you one of his only friends, you leaned into his body, feeling the warmth seep through the jacket, his jacket. “What about Poe? I thought he was your friend too.”

    He rolled his eyes; something you thought you’d never see him do. “Dameron is an employee.”

    “So how come I make friend status and he doesn’t. Am I not an employee?”

    “You’re a better kisser.”

    The realization of what he said crossed his face a second too late, because you were already laughing. “I didn’t know you had kissed Dameron.”

    “I haven’t!” he practically shouted.

    “Are you sure about that Romeo? It sounds like you’ve kissed him before.”

    The grip on your hips tightened as he growled into your neck, biting at the skin before digging his fingers in further as a small punishment. “Do I have to show you how wrong you are outside here?”

    If he wanted to get you to shut up it worked. Too well.

    He had to stop riling you up with only a few words, because you weren’t sure your body could take it anymore. Wanting him incessantly all the fucking time. You needed something called self-control and while you were sorely lacking, you would be counting on him to have some. But this was him we were talking about. Elbowing him in the stomach lightly you stepped away, feeling another wave of laughter come over you.

    “Wait till I tell Poe,” you said, reaching for the door handle behind you.

    Din’s eyes narrowed, his body tensing, but you saw the playfulness in his gaze. The evidence that you weren’t in danger in the slightest and in fact probably the safest person in this small town.

    “You tell him and I tell him about the first night you ever came into the bar and had to be carried up the stairs.”

    He wouldn’t.

    Turning to face him, it was your turn to figure if he was joking or not. You suspected he wasn’t, because Din and joking were like water and oil, but the light in his eyes was throwing you for a loop. Either he was just extremely happy to be here with you, or he was bluffing and really good at lying. You wouldn’t know. You had yet to play him with poker, and something told you he was good at that too.

    Your lips curved into a smile, knowing the next words would get you in more trouble than the time you broke someone’s nose in high school. “Romeo and Poe sitting in a tree-”

    He lunged for you, missing just as you leapt out of the way and ran for the door that he had been pulling you away from. “K-I-S-S-”

    “Come here,” he shouted, yanking you towards him as you both stumbled inside, his hand firmly covering your mouth. “Are you going to stop?”

    You shook your head, peeking your tongue out and licking his palm. A mistake if the way his eyes darkened had anything to do with it, but still you continued to keep eye contact. Letting him know that you weren’t backing down.

    “A pain in my ass sometimes sweetheart,” he breathed out, the smile brief but there.

    “Tell me you didn’t kidnap her.”

    He froze, his body tensing at the sound of another voice behind him. You pulled away from his hand, peeking around his frame and finding an older woman standing there, her red hair tied up and out of her face. She smiled at you and you returned it, unable not to. This was the friend he was talking about? Someone old enough to be his mother? You couldn’t help but feel like this was perfect for him, especially after understanding who he was as a person.

    “Actually I kidnapped him.”

    She chuckled, her hand extending as you came out from where you stood, blocked by Din. “That’s good to hear.”

    “She’s kidding.”

    The woman shrugged. “You come in here with your hand over her mouth, I start to think differently.”

    “That’s not what it-”

    “He does that a lot.” The glare he gave you would have sent you twenty feet under, but you brushed it off. Sending him a cheerful smile instead and watched as his shoulders fell in defeat.

    Almost as if he realized what a mistake it was to introduce you to one of his friends, because you’d tease him relentlessly. Your hand intertwining with his had his head perking up, but that’s all you’d get. You started this and that meant you had to finish it.

    “It’s been some time since you’ve been here,” she said.

    He coughed. “I got busy.”

    You let them talk for a bit, choosing to walk around the diner and taking in what you found to be interesting. So, this is where he spent his free time before he met you. Maybe even after he met you. Busy. You tried not to smile, wondering if maybe the busy was about you, and how you were someone he wanted to spend time with. Every few minutes you caught the tail end of their conversation, but all of it faded when you found a picture that had you stopping in place.

    A younger Din, wearing the very jacket you were wearing, standing in front of his motorcycle. Except that wasn’t what made you pause. The sight of him laughing as he held a young boy against his hip had your throat tightening, your heart speeding up. The boy didn’t look like him, but you could see the smile on Din’s face; pure joy and it matched the boy’s. Glancing underneath the image you saw something was carved into the wooden frame.

    Buir & ad 1981

    You didn’t know the language, but you knew that it was the one Din spoke and you knew that whatever this was it was more than he told you. More than he probably would ever tell you. The man in the picture barely resembled the Din you were looking at now as he talked to his friend. But you knew he was there. Under the surface. He came out every once in a while with you, and he became the Din you wanted to know. The Din in the image.

    “I ordered us two burgers and she’s going to join us. Please don’t listen to anything she-” he paused at the sight of you standing in front of the picture.

    “That’s you,” you said. He didn’t move, his eyes stuck on the frame, as if his mind was going back to that very day the picture had been taken. “Who’s he?”

    The question seemed to shock him out of his reverie, because he was taking your hand and leading you to a table. Yet another question gone unanswered. While you didn’t mind him not answering, didn’t mind that there were things he never wanted to tell you; it didn’t stop you from wondering. About whether or not he’d ever answer these questions. Whether or not he’d actually teach you the language. Or even tell you who the young boy in that picture was.

    “Well done for you and medium rare for him.” She set the plates down, dragging a chair to join you.

    “I like medium rare,” he grumbled, already taking a bite out of the burger.

    “Ah yes, I forgot how you Mandalorians like your meat still alive.”

    The word was unfamiliar to you, the name catching your attention, but you saw the way he reacted to it. His shoulders tensing and eyes focusing on the table. Like he was trying to forget something. Fuck. He didn’t like being called that, and you quickly switched the conversation, telling her what a nice place she had. Anything to get him out of this situation. Why did you so badly want to help him? You couldn’t give an answer. Just that you had to.

    “My husband and I run it. Have been for quite some time now.”

    You glanced at Din, seeing his shoulders were back to being relaxed, but his eyes still remained trained on the table. “It’s wonderful.”

    “How did you two meet?” She smiled at you, almost like she wished for you to divulge the secrets of what went down between you and Din. You came to the conclusion that you liked her.

    “Long story short I work there.” All you received in response was an eyebrow raise. “But I met him the night I came into the bar...so drunk I could barely walk straight.”

    Din coughed, drinking the water in front of him, before standing up. “I’ll be back.”

    Do you go after him? No. He’d want you to stay here and get to know his friend. It’s why he brought you right? Except you felt the tug in your heart. Something was wrong, and you wondered if coming here had been a mistake for both you and him. Din walking away didn’t bode well for you, but really how bad could his past truly be? It’s not like he’s killed anyone.

    “I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

    She shook her head. “Don’t be. He’s just remembering things and I don’t think he expected to go through it again. Otherwise he wouldn’t have brought you.”

    “I don’t want to pry.” Yes you did, but for the sake of Din’s privacy you’d keep quiet about all the questions that ran through your head.

    “You saw the picture,” she said.

    Well fuck apparently Din befriended other mind readers. You didn’t say anything, and yet that was all she needed to know you had in fact seen the image. Okay, just try and change the topic. Maybe you could talk about her husband. Ask if she had kids. Or even how she cooked the burgers-

    “His son.” Your heart dropped. “The boy in the picture.”

    You couldn’t breathe.

    The truth stared you in the face and yet you couldn’t look at it, couldn’t come to terms with what she just said. Your chest tightened, the pain worse than anything you felt before and suddenly you realized why Din never talked about his past. Why he never told you anything about who he was until he knew you longer. Because of this. Din has a son. Din has a son. Din had-

    He never talked about him…

    “He never told you,” she murmured, her eyes taking in your reaction.

    You wanted to cry. For him? You weren’t sure, but the stinging in your eyes had become overwhelming. He never told you, and you were okay with it. Would be okay if he never did tell you, because it wasn’t something you tell if you don’t want to. He didn’t want to bring back the pain for himself, because if he had a son that was still alive...you’d have met him by now. Right?

    “What happened to him?” You were practically whispering now, but if you tried to say anything else you were pretty sure you’d break.

    “Do you know about his past?”

    You shook your head. “He never talks about it.”

    The realization dawned in her eyes as to why your reaction was the way it was. Because you didn’t know him fully. Had barely scratched the surface of this man. She rested her hand on top of yours, her presence comforting, and you finally knew why he called her a friend. Why he came here. This was his past, a piece of himself he had been trying to show you finally.

    “He’ll tell you one day.” She stood, taking the burger you barely touched. “He just needs time.”

    He just needs time.

    You would hold onto that, because you had to. Telling your past was always a difficult feat; something that most people never do, and Din was no different. He told you bits and pieces here and there. Kept himself slightly open to you, and that gave you hope. That one day you’d know him fully; be able to say that you understood the person who made up Din Djarin.

    She packed up the burger in a small container, handing it to you right as Din came back. The stoic expression having returned, telling you that it was time to go. You thanked her for the food; told her you’d come back for the delicious burgers, and nudged Din’s side to get him to go up to her and say his goodbyes. He really wanted to go. Especially with how he walked back to his bike like he couldn’t wait to leave this area.

    “Is everything okay?” you asked. Fuck he could walk fast if he wanted to.

    “It’s fine.”

    That was a damn lie. Only you couldn’t call him out on it, because the look in his eyes told you to remain silent. To let him have this, and you did. You remained quiet, getting on the back of the bike and wrapping your arms around him. The inner war that was waging inside your mind told you to ask him, to see if he’d tell you anything, and yet there would be nothing you could say. Nothing that seemed good enough in your mind. Because what could you really do? Ask him if he actually in fact had a son?

    And risk him asking you to leave for good?

    The engine revved to life, his body leaning into you as he took off down the street, leaving behind the place that held more about him than his own bar did. His bar should reflect who he is as a person, but for some reason it felt only like what he showed to people. It held specks of him, pieces of who he was, but it wouldn’t fully be him. Because the walls had yet to be fully torn down.

    The Crest was his home, but you had finally figured out that he didn’t consider it home, he just saw it as safe.

    “Do you need help?”

    “No I got it.”

    You were currently trying to get off his bike without dropping the burger bag and knocking over his bike at the same time. Why was it so fucking complicated? You got on the bike, so it seemed perfectly reasonable that you would be able to get off as well. Yet there you were, looking like an idiot as you swung your leg over and nearly tripped as you stood up.

    It looked a lot harder than it was.

    Okay that might have just been you being clumsy. Again. But could anyone really blame you? The bike was huge, and in order to get off your way, you had to hold onto the handle bars, try not to fall off, and stand up. All the while still holding the bag of food. It took effort that you were far too tired to give. He grabbed your upper arms, leading you away from the bike and checking behind you to see if it was still standing.

    “That has to be the awkwardest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said.

    You hit him lightly on the chest. “Yeah well that took skill.”

    “Skill right. What kind?”

    You knew he had you when your mouth opened and shut right after, unable to give him a proper answer. For fucks sake. You were just trying to gracefully get off, and it ended up looking worse than you thought. That’s it. You were going to go back home and hide for a few days...or even months.

    “Shut up Romeo,” you muttered.

    He laughed, pulling you back to him and pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m kidding sweetheart.” Whatever happened back at the place had vanished, because you had your Romeo back. Maybe it was just the act of coming back to The Crest that did it. He could be free of his past here.

    “Your opinion on the burgers?” he asked, shutting the garage door as you waited for him to come back to you.

    “I’m not going to betray Pete.” He sighed, bringing a smile to your lips at the exasperated expression on his face. “But they were pretty fucking delicious.”

    The smirk on his lips was so prominent it was as if you told him you wanted to suck him off, and you scoffed, turning in the direction of the bar. All because you proved him right. You swear this man got off more to the thought of being right than he did to anything else, except that was pretty dramatic. Even for you.

    “I told you that they were the best burgers in New York,” he said.

    “But I never said they were the best. So, you can’t say I actually proved you-” Stopping in your tracks you were met with a sight that had your heart leaping to your chest. You heard Din ask what was wrong as he came around from the side of the building, and if the swear word he let out was any indication, the people sitting on bikes in front of the bar weren’t friendly.

    Latching onto your arm, Din tugged you behind him, standing tall and firm just as he did when he had to deal with any of the bikers in his bar. An expression crossed his face that you’d never seen before, and you didn’t like the jolt of fear that went through your spine from it. But it wasn’t aimed at you.

    “Hello Mando,” a man called out from his bike.

    They were blocking the door of the bar, meaning you and Din were stuck outside until they decided to leave. His grip on your hand kept you in place, allowing him to take the lead in this situation. They weren’t good people. You could feel it down to your very bones. Yet they knew him; called him by the same name the woman from earlier had used.

    Mandalorian.

    M…

    Was that his name when he was in the biker gang? Were these people a part of the gang? You thought that everyone who was a part of it hung out at The Crest. So, who were these people? Your thoughts were going so fast you could barely keep up and through it all you missed it when Din invited them inside for drinks. He couldn’t possibly want to spend time with them. Especially with the way he barely breathed; his body so tense it was as if he had begun to anticipate a fight the second he saw them.

    The second they let him through to open the door; the woman sneering at you, he shoved you behind the bar. His eyes telling you one thing. Don’t move. And you didn’t, standing against the far side of the bar and beginning to grab what he needed to make the drinks. You told yourself that they were just customers. Just another set of rowdy people to take care of before the end of the night.

    But these weren’t customers, because you could see it.

    Din was afraid.

    “How have you been Mando?” the man asked, smiling at you when you set a glass of whiskey in front of him.

    “Fine.” His tone was short, dark and it terrified you to see this side of him. A man who looked nearly unrecognizable, but you remained beside him.

    “I see you’ve got yourself a girlfriend.”

    Din blew out breath through his nose, his hand seeking yours out and clasping it in his. For reassurance on your behalf you guessed. Or perhaps it was for him.

    The woman slammed her glass down, pulling out a dagger that looked sharp enough to cut you from there. “I don’t like her.”

    “I’m not too fond of you either,” you snapped.

    The grip on your hand nearly cut off your circulation as a warning sign to stay quiet. Perhaps this was his way of keeping you safe; remaining silent while he handled the situation, but you were never one to let someone handle things on their own. He should know that better than anyone by now.

    “You’ve got a mouth.” She glanced at you, the disgust that hung in the air potent enough for you to choke on.

    “Xi’an.” She shut her mouth at the sight of the man holding up his hand. “I’m not here to start a fight. And you shouldn’t be either.”

    The sight of her pouting like a petulant child had you ready to smile, but you would save it for later, when they finally left. When that would be, you didn’t know, but you’d remain here until they did. Leaving Din alone with them wasn’t safe. For them. You hadn’t seen him lose his temper before, but you knew that it wouldn’t be pretty if he did. Especially since many of the bikers at the bar seemed to be wary of him.

    “What do you want, Ran?” Din asked, his grip on your hand letting up slightly.

    “I’ve got a job for you.”

    “No.”

    Ran’s eyes narrowed, clearly displeased with the way that he said no so quickly, and you got ready to head to the storage room and grab the shotgun he had propped against the back wall. But his hold on your hand deterred you from even thinking of going anywhere. So you remained there. Waiting for this man and woman to finally get up and leave.

    “It pays well.”

    Din set his other hand on the bar. “I don’t care. I’m done with that shit.”

    Silence was the man’s only response, leaving you to calculate how long it would really take you to grab the shotgun. You didn’t like this. Having them sit there as if they owned Din, as if they could call on him at any time. You knew why Din didn’t want to start a fight; why he would rather do anything but that, except you knew you’d join him if it came down to it. Ran’s eyes met yours, the glare you gave him hopefully enough to let him know he wasn’t wanted anywhere near this place.

    “It seems we’ve overstayed our welcome,” he said, getting up from the stool.

    “But I’m not done with my drink,” Xi’an replied, sneering at you from behind her whiskey glass.

    “Then drink faster.”

    She looked ready to lunge at you for those words, the glass meeting the bar loud enough to make you think she cracked it. Din took a step closer in her direction, but your hand pulling him back stopped his movements. He got his chance to make you stay silent, now it was your turn. He didn’t like it. You could feel the way his hand clenched around yours, the agitation clear in his body language. This man was ready to snap any second.

    “You know what Mando,” she purred, causing your stomach to churn. “I think Qin would love her. Don’t you?”

    You could practically hear the string that was holding his patience in place break, hear it completely pull apart until he was someone else entirely. He said something in another language, pulling his hand out of your hold to reach for her and drag her across the bar by her jacket. Spitting words that had her eyes widening in fear, and her hands scrambling for her dagger that had slid further down the bar.

    Shit. He was going to kill her.

    You didn’t want to spend the night hiding a body so you tugged on his arm, hoping that would get him off her. When it didn’t you tried to think of another solution. What the fuck would grab his attention? Xi’an had finally managed to reach her dagger and was bringing it up to press against his neck, causing your heart to end up in your throat.

    “Cyar'ika,” you said, nearly shouting it at him.

    His back straightened, hands letting her go so fast she fell against the bar and scrambled away from him. You didn’t even know if that would work; didn’t know if you said it right, but you could see how his eyes cleared. The anger in him dissipated until nothing remained but shock. You had used his language, called him the word that he called you, and you had meant it.

    “What did you say?” he asked, voice rasping slightly.

    You watched Xi’an glare one last time at you before leaving the bar, and finally you felt air fill your lungs. Felt the weight of the situation lift off you until you could feel like you again. But then you saw him. Standing there and waiting for you to respond, a different look in his eyes than how he had looked at her.

    “Cyar’ika.” The word felt foreign on your tongue, but you did your best to mimic how he said it earlier in the day; hoping it sounded better to him than it did to you.

    Awaiting a reaction from him, you felt relief go through you at the sound of two motorcycles taking off in the distance, the people finally having left. It’s when he didn’t say anything that you felt the worry set in. Did you upset him? Did you say it wrong? Shit you said it wrong didn’t you. Going over it in your head you wondered if he would give you a second chance to say the word, this time hopefully better.

    Opening your mouth you went to ask him when his hands cupped your cheeks, dragging you to him, lips meeting yours. The kiss was so unexpected that you fell into him, only supported by the arm that wrapped tightly around your waist. You weren’t sure if it was what you called him that made him want to kiss you, or if it was the fact that the both of you were safe again, but you didn’t complain.

    The hot feel of his tongue licking into your mouth undid you; dragged out sounds that you had yet to make for him, and you wanted more. Wanted to know what he could do, what he’d let you do. Except too soon he was pulling away, resting his forehead against yours, just as he always did, and smiled.

    “What was that for?” you breathed out, feeling your heart thump against your chest.

    “Because you’re a better kisser than Dameron.”

    The laugh broke the silence; shattered through the dark feeling those people brought, and made this empty run down bar feel safe again. You watched him lock the doors, shoving a table against it, before taking your hand and leading you upstairs. One more kiss against the wall of the staircase, another by his door. Every few steps accentuated with his lips pressing against some part of you, until you made it to his bed and took off the clothes of the day.

    There was no need for passion. Not after a day full of unexpected twists and turns. No, tonight you just needed to be at peace, needed to fall asleep to the sound of him breathing beside you. The unmistakable sound of him murmuring your name in his sleep. Would he mind if you whispered about how beautiful he was? Tell whoever was listening that no one had been able to take your breath away as they slept like he did.

    His arm lay across your waist, his leg pushed between yours as you trailed the tips of your fingers along the vines on his chest. The silence of the night overtaking the both of you until it nearly lulled you to sleep.

    “Thank you,” he whispered against your temple.

    “For what?”

    His hand splayed across the bare skin of your back, fingers making his own patterns. You weren’t sure what he was drawing, but you’d have to ask him one day. Figure out if it was just a simple pattern and maybe, just maybe if you liked it enough, you could have your own tattoo. Unique in it’s own way. You closed your eyes, breathing out slowly and feeling yourself begin to drift in and out of consciousness, but the feel of his lips against your forehead brought you back.

    “For staying.”

    You smiled, pressing your own kiss to his chest, right above his heart. Whether or not he meant today you couldn’t be sure. Perhaps he only did mean today; for staying at the diner, for staying while he dealt with those people. Or perhaps he meant for staying the first day you met him. The first day you walked in.

    You didn’t know. It only hit you now that you forgot to ask him about the wedding. But after today, after learning more about him than you thought you would ever get to know...it was enough to just be there.

    Perhaps you’d tell the stars about him, or even the moon. He’d laugh at you for doing it. Say that you were finally going crazy, and then sit beside you doing the exact same thing, because he knew you’d want some company.

    Yeah…

    You’d tell the moon about him, and she’d agree. Din Djarin was special.

Black Velvet Masterlist

Masterlist 

[moonlight-prose]

Black Velvet Chapter Six

A/N: I figured since this chapter will take me a few days to get through I’ll give you guys a short snippet of it. From what I have planned it won’t be as long as the other parts.

Not tagging for this snippet. But I will for the chapter.

Pairing: 1980s!Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, mentions of sex, some angst

    There comes a time in anyone’s life that there ends up being a predicament. A problem if you will. It could be majorly life changing, or so minuscule no one catches it until it’s too late. Or it could be extremely stupid and the person is being over-dramatic about what the outcome would be of said predicament. Although saying you were being over-dramatic was a bit of an understatement. If people were giving out awards, you’d now hold two different types. One for best trash dumper, according to what you told Din, and the other for being dramatic when it comes to whatever situation you were in at that moment. Here was your predicament:

    You couldn’t leave your fucking bedroom.

    Well okay actually…

    You could leave the room. The doorknob worked perfectly fine, but whether or not you wanted to turn it was a different situation altogether. After Din left and Liv had practically cornered you in the kitchen you had spilled everything to her. How you met him, what happened in the past weeks, the mind-blowing night of sex, all the way up to the icky problem of whether or not there were feelings. Her conclusion was to tell him how you felt.

    But that was your problem. You weren’t sure how you felt. Which was an obvious lie to yourself and to everyone around you, but you couldn’t admit that you liked him as more than just this. That you wanted him for more than some good conversation and sex that had you daydreaming about it. Sure they were the best parts, but then there were the parts of him that you didn’t know about yet. His past. Who he really was outside of the bar.

    You wanted to know Din instead of just your Romeo.

    So, you continued to pace the floor of your room, his shirt clad on your body with nothing else. Did you miss him? You weren’t sure if you missed him or just had anxiety about talking to Liv again about this situation. Because when it came down to it, you could like him all you wanted. Fuck you could love him, but it wouldn’t mean anything if he didn’t reciprocate those feelings, and that’s what terrified you. What made you shove those potential emotions down.

    Letting out a groan, you took a deep breath and mentally said fuck it, before opening the door. Probably a mistake, but why not go out and risk spilling absolutely everything you’ve ever felt about this man. Again. Liv was just that good. All through college she managed to get things out of you, even if you didn’t want to say them. You took a step out into the hallway, peeking around the corner and sure enough she sat perched on the edge of the couch, a cup of coffee in her hand.

    “I was waiting to see how long it would take you to come outside,” she said.

    You should have stayed in the damn room.

    “Morning to you too Liv.” Heading into the kitchen you followed her, taking the cup of coffee she handed. “You know it’s creepy to sit there and watch my door.”

    “Creepy maybe, but we haven’t finished talking about this.”

    “Talking about what?”

    Maybe if you brushed it all under the rug she’d give you a chance to escape answering any more questions. Although that was a big maybe, and if there was one thing you understood about Liv, it was that she didn’t like to leave things unfinished.

    “How about how you had sex in the kitchen last night?”

    You choked on the coffee, feeling the heat burn your face. “It was a spur of the moment thing.” What a good excuse.

    Her lips tilted up into a knowing smirk and you knew with a few words she’d have you relenting, and sure enough. “Spur of the moment right. So, what about before I got home? Our neighbor called worried that someone was getting killed.”

    It was official, you were moving out and never coming back. Maybe Romeo would let you stay at his place until you could find one. Except even you knew he’d never let you leave.

    “I told her it was you.”

    “Liv!” you shouted, getting ready to throw your cup at her.

    “She wanted to know if you were able to walk this morning.”

    Just as you got over the fact that Poe heard you and Din, now you were dealing with your neighbor asking if you were okay to walk. The predicament no longer needed to be explained. You were stuck between screaming or flinging yourself out of the open window, and both sounded like a good idea.

    “You love to embarrass the fuck out of me don’t you?” you asked, running a hand down your face.

    She shrugged. “Look this is the first time I’ve seen you like this Y/N.”

    “Like what? Having sex that makes the neighbors worry?”

    “Happy.” She knew she had you there, seeing the way you wouldn’t meet her eyes, and you hated that she was right. “The asshole before Din...he dimmed everything about you. I could see it. A few weeks spent with this bartender of yours and you look better than you have in years.”

    Running your finger over the rim of the mug, you tried to come up with something to say. Tell her that you knew she was right, knew that Din had changed you in the best ways, but also tell her that you couldn’t do what she was suggesting. You couldn’t fall in love with him, because the last time you gave up your heart, you were left with trying to find the shattered pieces. Some lost forever.

    “I can’t Liv.” You let out the breath that was caught in your throat. “I want to, but I can’t.”

    She sat closer, forcing you to bring your eyes to hers. “I know you can’t. So, do this instead.”

    “What?”

    “Don’t let him go. Okay? Even if you can’t love him yet. Don’t let him leave, because you’ll get scared. Don’t give me that look, I know you will get scared. And when you do, you push people away, but don’t do that with him.” She patted your arm, slipping a card underneath your hand. “He’s special.”

    “What’s this?”

    She shrugged, slipping on her jacket and drinking the last of her coffee. “You still need a plus one to my wedding. That’s for your plus one.” Grabbing her keys she headed towards the door. “Maybe a certain bartender would be interested,” she called out before you heard the door shut.

    Her words settled in your chest, the weight of them nearly crushing you altogether. You knew she was right. Knew that if you let your fear of love get the better of you, Din would become a faded memory in the back of your mind. Except how could you love a man who hadn’t told you everything about him yet? You trailed a finger down the flower pressed into the paper, seeing your name written on it next to an empty line.

    It was probably a terrible idea. One you’d regret for a long time, but you could blame it on your spur of the moment ideas later. Picking up the pen she left, you quickly jotted his name down onto the paper, knowing that Liv may love to torture you, but she was right. You just had yet to completely realize how much she was right about.

    Now the only predicament you had left, was going to be convincing him to attend said wedding. How you were going to go about that, would be a surprise even to yourself.

Black Velvet Masterlist

[willddheartt]

Masterlist

Smut will be marked with ®

Don't be afraid to drop your concepts or prompts in my ask box

Calum Hood

Cockwarming ®

In which Calum and the reader have a lazy day but he wants to try something a little scandalous. 

Frat Boy ®

The reader has been dumper after finding out her boyfriend, Jeremy, cheated.  Frat boy!Calum helps take her mind off things in a very friendly manner.

Babylon: Neon Lights Series  ®

It had been a love-hate relationship between them the entire time they’ve known one another. Nobody could explain, or pinpoint, the anger and hostility between Calum and Cherry every time they were together. At this point, their friends get concerned when there isn’t a passive-aggressive comment made or some type of glare exchanged. They met through mutual friends, who tried to set them up, saying they’re perfect for each other, leaving everyone astonished that something so perfect went so wrong.

JJ Maybank

I didn’t know where else to go

After a normal encounter with his dad, JJ shows up on your porch looking for comfort and a place to stay. 

Room 93

Inspired by Is There Somewhere - Halsey You were both from two, very, different worlds. A Kook and a Pogue,  your social titles always getting in the way. The only place you had was Room 93 in the very rundown motel. 

Right Person, Right Time (Sequel to Room 93)

 Inspired by Right Person Right Time - Rachel Grae What comes of the secret motel movers when the summer ends? Do your very different worlds cause a conflict? 

What Your Father Says

Inspired by What Your Father Says - The Vamps The two of you were an odd pair, aways fighting yet always making up no matter how big the fight was. He’d always do everything in his power to protect you, even if that ended in another fight. Through the years of constant bickering, you both pushed away any thought that had you two together. 

JJ and His Kleptomainac Tendencies 

In which the blonde's second nature of swiping random items might win the girl over who occupies his heart and mind for two months of the year. 

Black and White

Inspired by Black And White - Niall Horan Just a short, cheesy, teenage slow burn romance because i am a sucker for slow burn. 

Falling

Inspired by Falling - Harry Styles In which JJ finds himself falling for the Kook whos always been a Pogue at heart.

Cherry Chapstick

Loosely inspired by I Kissed a Girl - Katy Perry In which JJ kisses a girl and likes the taste of her cherry chapstick.

I Kissed a Girl and I Liked It ®

A smut version of ‘cherry chapstick’ that follows slightly different events.

JJ and Pride Month; A Headcanon

JJ and pride is a concept I cannot stop thinking about. 

Pierced ®

In which JJ’s hookup has nipple piercings.

What If I Never Get Over You?

The one in which you have a hard time getting over JJ after breaking up

Tiktok Trend

In which JJ’s girlfriend tries that tiktok trend where you walk in on your significant other naked.

Just Another Shade Of Blue

Inspired by: If They Only Knew - Alfie Arcuri & Bittersweet - musicbyblanks You’re a kook, and somehow, you’ve become friends with the infamous Kook hater, JJ Maybank. For summer break your father is letting you take a trip anywhere, with whoever you’d like for a few days, as an “I’m sorry your mom and I are divorcing, but please love me” present. Who else would you take other than the one person who you think could use a little vacation from the outer banks? 

Run Away With Me Series

JJ and Jessie have two different visions of what running away would look like. One of them has been thought out many times over and the other has been just an idea. What happens when an idea becomes reality and plans crumble? 

Randall Carpio

We Have Somewhere 

In which you and Randall have had some kind of thing from the moment you stepped foot on Campus. Everything feels as if its about to fall apart when you find out he’s a Knight and you’re in The Order.

My Salvation

In which Randall saves you from a creep at the bar.

My Salvation part 2

After saving you from the creep at the bar and you giving him your number; you and Randall finally go on a date.

High 

The one where you're trying to forget Randall after breaking up.

Your Shirt

Sparked out of the idea that Randall would give you his shirt/hoodie/jacket/etc.. when finding you after a transformation 

Won’t Say Love

Inspired by: I Won’t Say I’m In Love - Disney.

Being a Good Friend

In which Randall’s plan to help you make a boy jealous takes a different turn

Just Let Me Love You to Death

The one where they realize they’re more than friends and have been since day one.

Its Mortifying To Be The One Who Remembers 

Loosely inspired by; Hold On - Chord Overstreet Thinking you’ve done something wrong to make Randall ignore you, you try reaching out many times. Only if you would have knows the real reason...

Cherry Red Souls Series

After their memories have been wiped clean of each other, will the Knights of St. Christopher find their way back to each other? And what will happen if the order finds out? 

13 Reasons Why

The End and a Beginning

The kids of Liberty High have gone through way more than any other school around. Saying goodbye to yet another friend isn’t any easier than the last times.

Damon Salvatore

Here for You

Recently being a turned vamp, you’re freaked out from just having your first kill. In a frenzy, your find yourself with Damon.

Josh Sanderson

Tequila

‘When I taste tequila, baby I still see ya,’  Reader gets drunk with Josh and ends up admitting feelings for him.

Dream 

Regression to The Mean

Grief stricken, Jaclyn and Clay go on an impulsive road trip with no destination. Along their path they find more than just a way to get out and cope with the loss of a friend and brother. 

Karl Jacobs

Happier 

Inspiered by: Happier - Ed Sheeran.  After you and Karl break up neither of you can shake the heartbreak of thinking the other is better off without the other.

Wilbur Soot

Shower Duets

We’ve never met but our showers are on opposite sides of the same apartment wall, so sometimes when we’re showering at the same time we sing duets.

Wilbur, Come Down

DreamSMP You couldn't stop Wilbur from pushing the button 

Falsely Yours

DreamSMP He could never love you as much as you did him, for he was in love with a nation that he could never have. 

30 Days to Fall In Love Series

30 days to fall in love with someone? Sounds easy right?  It would be if that person wasn’t so unbelievably annoying in almost every sense. 

You’re not sure how you found yourself in this situation, but you were positive there was no backing out now…

TommyInnit

5 Stages of Grief

DreamSMP The reader works through the five stages of grief after being told the news about Tommy. 

Ranboo

Scary Games

Ranboo plays a scary games on stream and you're there to help him get through it. 

[kiras-sunshine]

if you would have been the one

Written for day six of Carlos Reyes week: what if/au

Summary:

what if they didn't end up together on the night of the solar flares + the prompt of “look, i know we agreed to be friends and everything but that’s what everyone says when they break up. i can’t take you asking me for advice on how to ask out the new person you’re interested in, okay? it’s killing me” AU 

prompt is from this list

read on ao3

or

The bar is packed and even though there are a lot of people chatting around him and music is playing in the background, Carlos still hears and recognises his laughter immediately.

He leans against the table next to him and takes a long sip of his beer.

It is a beautiful laughter, free and bubbly, and Carlos loves to hear it. He is glad that he is happy, and he would do almost anything to keep it that way. Still, it feels like a sucker-punch to his gut sometimes, and he hates that he feels that way.  

TK is surrounded by his teammates, Mateo, Paul and Marjan are explaining something to him with wide movements of hands and he is almost wheezing with laughter. The lights are dim in the bar, but it almost looks like he would be glowing.

He laughs so hard he almost spills water out of his glass and some of it definitely gets onto his patterned light blue shirt and black slacks. Judd calls out him, and it is mostly inaudible to Carlos, but it makes TK shake his head slightly and the smile never leaves his face. Grace soon appears with a bunch of paper towels and helps him to dry his clothes.

He is glad that he is doing okay, and that he seems happy. He looks like he is surrounded by family, and Carlos is definitely happy for him, but it also makes his stomach twist, in a bad way, because once, he was almost a part of that family, too.

He tries to look away because it’s pathetic. It is merely a crush and a ghost of an almost-relationship and he should have gotten over it already. He is being haunted by what ifs. It’s been a few months already since they, mutually, decided that they wanted wildly different things and they would never make it work.

It was a good, clean break-up as far as break-ups go, and they decided it together. There were no dumper and dumpee, it was just a rational decision and their relationship was so vague and undefined that it ended before anything even started.

There is no good reason why he is still hung up on him, but he is, and it is terrible.

TK is still patting his shirt with the paper towels when he looks up and spots him. He definitely recognises him because he smiles at him, warmly and genuinely. Carlos waves at him because it feels like a rational reaction to one’s ex spotting them staring at them.

Besides, they are friends. Sort of. He likes TK and he is pretty sure he likes him back on some level, and he isn’t that immature that he would pass on the opportunity of friendship just because things didn’t work out between them in other ways.

He wants to be his friend, and they would need to get along even if they hated each other’s guts because they keep having to work together. The following day, after they had decided to call it quits, he had seen TK and rest of the 126 five times during one shift and he had been convinced that the universe was out to get him.

So, for everyone’s sake, he has mastered the art of trying to hide that he still has embarrassingly big crush on the man he broke up with months prior.

Carlos turns around to face the table instead of the bar crowd and a certain firefighter, but it doesn’t take long until he feels an arm wrapped around his shoulder. TK lets his hand slide along his back, and it feels like his fingertips would send small electric shocks along his spine.

He is a tactile person, he knows it, and he has realised that TK is always touching the people he cares about. It’s his way of showing affection, and while he is sort of grateful that he still cares about him, the touching is killing him inside a little bit.

Only because it reminds him too much of their almost-relationship and he misses him. He misses the time when things were not awkward between them and the time when he was in the receiving end of other than greeting touches.

“Hey,” TK says, placing his glass on the table, “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Even though they agreed to stay as friends, he hasn’t seen him otherwise except when bumping into each other while on calls or at the bar, but they haven’t really hung out. They have caught up with each other, exchanging a few texts and TK had invited him over for a dinner, but he had refused by coming up with an excuse. He still feels a little bad about that.

“I’ve been busy,” he replies and takes another sip of his beer.

It’s not exactly a lie. He has been busy with work and spent most of his free time with his sisters, but he hasn’t actively tried to make time to meet up with him, either.

He wants him in his life, as a friend, but he still has things he needs to work on before he can genuinely just be his friend, and TK deserves better than his pining.

TK nods knowingly. “Work?”

“Yeah, always busy,” he agrees, and glances at him. He is looking down to his water glass and moving it around on the table, as if he were nervous about something. “Also, my sister gave birth, so babysitting,” he adds with a small smile.

“Congratulations,” he says, sounding sincere, as he clasps his shoulder and holds his gaze maybe a few seconds longer than necessary, but Carlos doesn’t look away either. “You’re gonna be a great uncle.”

“Thanks,” he says, taking yet another sip of his drink. “How’s your dad?”

He has seen captain Strand on calls too, and he hasn’t looked terribly ill, but he still wonders about him, too. It feels too personal to go up to him and outright ask how he is feeling, especially when he doesn’t even know what TK has told about them to him.

“Great,” he replies, and relief is audible in his voice, but he is also flashing him one of his most disarming smiles. It’s bright and warm, and it reaches his eyes, and it is definitely doing unfair things to his heart. “Chemo seems to be working.”

“That’s good,” he says with a half-smile.

TK opens his mouth but closes it abruptly when his gaze drops to his neck. Carlos yanks the collar of his shirt to cover the ugly purple-and-yellow bruise’s edge.

He has his hand raised, and almost instinctively seems to want to touch the bruise, but he yanks his hand back halfway.  

“What happened?” TK asks, and his brow is furrowed as his gaze darts between the bruise and his face.

“Crashed into a door when chasing a perp,” he replies, looking at the beer bottle instead of him.

“Ouch,” he says with a frown, “it looks painful.”

Nothing had been dislocated or broken, but the pain had still been agonizing. His shoulder still throbs with pain if he moves it in a bad angle, but it is definitely better than it had been last week.

“It’s getting better,” he reassures, and TK smiles at him, and suddenly everything feels a little better. He likes this, just talking to him and being friends. He can definitely get over his unrequited feelings. “How are you doing?”

“Still sober,” he says, into his glass of water.

“Not what I meant,” he points out softly.

“I know,” he breathes out, and turns around to face the bar crowd, but he still leans against the same table, “but I’m okay.”

He turns around, too, because the shoulder starts to throb if he tries to crane his neck, and he cannot keep his eyes away from him.

“I’m glad,” he tells him, as a man walks past them, glancing up and down. It doesn’t take him long to realise that TK follows him with his gaze and the unpleasant feeling in his stomach returns.

He grins at him. “Have you met anyone?”

He has just taken another gulp of his drink and he almost ends up spitting it out. “Uh, not really,” he manages to mutter, but TK doesn’t seem to pick up on his awkwardness or he bluntly decides to ignore it.

“What about him?” He asks, nodding towards the man who just walked by, “he definitely checked you out.”

He glances back at the man who has sat down in one of the back booths of the bar. He is handsome, there is no denying that. He is tall, lean and it looks like he is in great shape and his brown eyes keep glistering and the mustard-yellow sweater looks great against his dark skin, but TK has his heart still in a chokehold and he cannot bring himself to genuinely get interested in someone else.

Also, the last thing he needs is to bring a third person into this mess he has created for himself. He is aware that the man’s gaze is still on him, but he decidedly decides to look rest of the 126, who have moved on to have a darts competition in the corner.

It’s Mateo’s turn and he does surprisingly well.

“Uh, no,” Carlos eventually says, shaking his head, as he realises that he never replied to TK and he doesn’t want him to interpret his silence as a sign of interest.

“Not your type?” He asks, and his face suddenly breaks into a delighted smirk. “What is your type?”

He wants to scream, a little. He is quite sure he doesn’t even have a type. Appearance-wise there is no common characteristics between his exes, and he usually just goes for guys who he gets along with and who make him laugh. “I don’t know,” he says, shrugging and hoping that TK would just let it drop.

He has no such luck, and he should have guessed it. He might not know TK completely, but he knows he is stubborn and determined, and a little bit of a jerk when he wants to be.

“Am I your type?” He asks, with a wide shit-eating grin.

“I don’t know, maybe,” he mutters as he takes a longer gulp of his drink than necessary, “also, I don’t really need your help with this.”

He just wants them to change the subject, but obviously TK gets it in a wrong way, because he laughs and bites his lower lip as he looks at him. “I’m sure you don’t. You, what, said hello to me and I was gone for.”

Carlos swears his heart jumps into his throat, and he struggles to swallow or even find words for a reply. Luckily, TK is on rambling mood and just continues on without waiting for a reply.

He gets along with all of his exes, and he hasn’t had ugly break ups, but this conversation they are currently having, is on a whole another level and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“I think I’ve lost all of my game,” TK says, exhaling and scanning the crowd with his gaze, but he settles at looking his crew’s dart match.

“What game?” Carlos asks, with a grin, and the words are out of his mouth before he really even considers them, but it is so easy to fall in the easy-going banter with him, and he wants this conversation to find a new topic.

He loathes that it makes him a little happy that TK hasn’t found anyone else. It is completely selfish and horrible, but he is convinced that pretending to be friends and getting along with TK’s next friends-with-benefits guy would be a whole another circle of hell.

TK lets out a surprised huff, which is followed by a chuckle and gaping at him. “That’s rude,” he deadpans, gently slapping him in his tricep, “you talk to all of your exes like that?”

“Nope. Do you?”

It is completely out of curiosity, he wants to know how much of this convo is just TK being TK and how much can contributed to the fact that neither one of them knows how to act around each other any more.

“You’re literally the only one I talk to,” he retorts, but he shrugs immediately after. “I guess we’re special then,” he says softly, glistering in his eyes, and if Carlos didn’t know any better, he would say he is flirting with him, but he knows better.

“I guess so,” he confirms with a small and dazed smile, and rubs his own neck.

“But seriously I could use some help,” TK continues, softness gone from his voice. He drums the edge of his glass with his fingers.

Carlos briefly wonders what he has ever done to inflict this kind of suffering upon himself. Being in the receiving end of TK’s teasing and soft smiles hurts, but it hurts in a good way. Setting him up with someone else hurts, but not in a good way, it’s killing him.

“What did you like about me?” TK is definitely carrying the conversation on his own, while he wallows in self-pity and misery, but this time he expects an answer, if his expectant look is anything to go by.

He has focused all of his attention him, and there is no escaping of this, and he cannot come up with any ways to distract him. He guesses he could just kiss him and then he probably would stop talking to him, but he still has some self-preservation left in his mind. He guesses he could just admit that he still hasn’t gotten over him, but that doesn’t feel like a good option either currently.

Especially when he was the one who said if it is not meant to be, then it’s not meant to be. His heart hasn’t just caught up with his mind.

Which means his only option is to give him an answer to his horrible question. Besides of all the inner turmoil that his question causes, it is also a really difficult to answer.

It’s hard to break down, objectively, what it was that attracted him to him and what it was that made the spark between them to ignite because knowing that would probably mean he would know why he is still hung up on him.

He cannot explain why he is drawn to him. He just is. It’s that simple, it’s like a magnet pulling him and he cannot fight it.

“You had kind eyes and a nice smile,” he eventually replies, and it is not far from the truth. “And you were hot.”

When they had first met, on that call where the baby had gotten stuck in the tree, he definitely noticed his eyes first. He has always found them beautiful, a particular shade of green, and he had been wearing the whole firefighter gear complete with the helmet, and it had been a little hard to notice anything else except his bright eyes and amused half-smile.

Obviously, later, he had seen him without the gear, and he was, and still is frankly, gorgeous. He still isn’t going to elaborate more or ramble to his ex how hot he found him when they met. He still has some dignity left and he is half-convinced he is going to develop an ulcer if this conversation steers into that direction.

“Were?”

Carlos smirks into his bottle. “Are, whatever.”

He flashes him another smirk, but it seems just slightly meek and it doesn’t linger. “Huh,” TK says, quietly. He looks a little taken a back, but in a good way. “Any tips?”

Carlos is convinced he might be in hell already, but he is already too deep in this conversation to make any sort escaping attempts. “Just, uh, look at them. Make them feel like they are the only person in the world,” he ends up saying, and he just cannot tear his eyes away from his, and TK is making no attempts to do so, either, and they just keep looking at each other.

At that moment, he feels like the only person in the world for TK, and it is definitely becoming too much. He fakes a cough, and the moment passes. He drinks the remaining of his beer. “Worked for me at least,” he murmurs against the bottle.

TK nods, and he is about to say something else, but Marjan and Mateo come to his rescue. They start to talk, rapidly, about their darts game and how TK needs to participate too, and Carlos has never been more grateful that TK’s attention is not on him.

“Carlos,” Marjan says, and gestures towards the scoreboard that she holds in her hands, “tell us TK’s full name for this wonderful scoreboard.”

He skims through the list and it looks like they have written everyone’s first and middle names for good measure there, and he half-suspects the dart game is only a elaborate scheme by the crew to find out his name.

It’s not even that big of a deal and he doesn’t quite get why he is so secretive about his name, but he is sort of impressed that he has managed to keep it under the wraps for so long and watching the team try to figure it out is sort of amusing.

He can see from the corner of his eye that TK is shooting him a pleading look, and he wouldn’t have needed to see that, because he wouldn’t have told them anyway.

“No.”

He guesses TK needs someone on his corner for this ridiculous crusade, too.

“What?”

“Loyalty bounds,” he replies, cocking his head a little.

Marjan groans but TK rises his hand to high five him, and he meets his palm in the middle.

Mateo takes the score board from her. “How are you guys even like that after a break-up,” he mutters as he scribbles just TK on the list.

For a moment, everything feels tense and awkward again, but luckily Marjan starts to talk again.

He listens to his friends intensively, and Carlos gets the faint idea that this might be his only chance to escape this conversation before he has to give him more tips how to hit on guys who are not him, and he feels terrible and selfish and he knows it is completely asshole thing to do and TK doesn’t deserve it, but he walks out of the bar when he doesn’t notice.

He hoped that fresh air would make him feel better and help him to clear his head, but the day has been hot, and the air just feels heavy and thick and does nothing to help the heavy feeling in his chest.

He just breathes, looking at the parking lot that bathes in the last rays of the setting sun. He wants to be alone, but he hears how the door of the bar creaks as someone pushes it open.

“Are you okay? You kinda disappeared,” TK says, and he does sound concerned and weary.

He opens his eyes and turns around to look at him. He looks almost out place, his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants and his eyes keep darting around the parking lot. “Yeah, sorry. I needed to get away.”

He nods solemnly, biting his lower lip. “Was it because of me?”

There is sharpness in his voice that wasn’t there before, and it almost catches him by a surprise.

“What?”

He sighs deeply and runs his hand through his hair. “I know everyone always agrees to be friends after a break-up, and I don’t want to lose you, but you look almost borderline nauseated when you see me and now, you’re literally running away. So, just say the word and I will leave you alone.”

He shakes his head as he looks at the pavement underneath his shoes. There are small cracks on it. He sighs and sits down the edge of the pavement. It’s not the best place to sit down, but TK tentatively follows his lead and sits down next to him.

“I want to be your friend,” he starts, because apparently, he is not as good at hiding his emotions as he hoped, but still, he has understood it all wrong. “And you’ve done nothing wrong.”

It breaks his heart that he thinks he doesn’t want anything to do with him and only pretends to get along with him.

“Okay,” he says, under his breath, but his voice still sounds a little flat and emotionless.

Escaping the conversation had been a desperate attempt at avoiding talking about anything real he still might feel for him, but he knows he deserves to hear the truth, even if he will end up thinking differently of him.

Besides, pretending he doesn’t feel anything more than friendship towards him was always immediately off the table if it hurted him.

“And honestly,” he starts, staring at his own hands, “I cannot give you advice how to hit on other people, it’s killing me.”

It feels good admitting that aloud, but the parking is desolated besides them and the parked cars, and it is so quiet.

“Why?”

At first, he isn’t sure if he heard him correctly. He turns his head around, but it sends a flash of pain in his shoulder, and he ends up turning a bit towards him. TK is slouching and staring at the ground, but Carlos keeps glaring at him, because he figured it would be quite obvious why he has hard time giving him dating advice.

He takes a deep breath. “Because I’m still not over you,” he admits, quietly and it comes out softer than he intended, but honesty feels good.

TK’s head snaps up at that and suddenly his gaze is back on Carlos, and he feels strangely vulnerable, right there and then, underneath his gaze. “Oh.”

Carlos lets out a laugh, but it ends up sounding like a sad attempt of laughter. “I know, pathetic, really.”

“It’s not,” TK says, gently, but his gaze darts back to the cars that keep reflecting the sunlight just slightly, “because if you’re pathetic, then so am I, because I think I haven’t gotten over you, either.”

He blinks at him, taking in his words and now he is sure he didn’t hear him right, but there is no other explanation. TK stays quiet, but he shrugs and flashes him a sheepish smile.

“Aren’t we a pair,” he says with a chuckle.

The heavy feeling in his chest has evaporated into nothing, but the absurdity of this whole conversation is making his mind short-circuit and he is just a little loss for words.

“It’s been two months,” TK complains, attempting to hold back his own laughter, but it erupts a little in the end. “And I’ve tried to get over you, but nothing has worked so far.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he says, gesturing between them, “this was not my best decision.”

In retrospect, maybe if they have never even stared anything, they would happier and not in this situation, but it fills his heart with different kind of heavy sadness that he seems to regret the whole thing.

He guesses he notices his shift in his mood, because TK’s face falls a little and he places his hand on his forearm. “No, that came out wrong. I don’t regret you, I only regret letting you go. Only an idiot does that and I’m like a certified idiot at this point,” he rambles on, ruefully.

“You’re not that bad,” he says, nudging his shoulder with his own, “I should have given you more time.”

He has maybe spent a couple of sleepless nights thinking about various what ifs. Mostly that is just a waste of time, but he knows they could have done some things a little differently. If he could go back in time, he would try to understand him a little more because the timing was truly atrocious.

He squeezes his arm slightly. “Stop it, you didn’t do anything wrong. It would have been unfair to ask you to wait around while I got my shit together.”

“I did end up waiting anyway,” he remarks.

He isn’t convinced if it can be called waiting, because he certainly didn’t wait for him to change his mind. Sure, he had hoped that things would have worked out differently between them, but in reality, he had just waited to get over him and his crush.

He sharply sucks in his breath and looks back at him. His whole face softens and there is a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Is it wrong if I’m kinda glad that you did?”

His heart skips a beat at the implication of his words.

“No.”

His face breaks into a full smile, and it illuminates his face at least as much as the sunbeams of the sunset. He slides a little closer to him on the edge of the pavement and he cups his face with one hand. His movements are tentative, but seemingly thoughtful. He lets his hand slide along his cheek, and he ends up holding his chin with his fingers.

“Can I?” He asks, and his voice is barely a whisper, as he searches something from his eyes.

He has to admit that TK is a little more than good at making him feel that they are the only people in the world. “Yeah.”

His lips meet his in an instant. It’s soft kiss and his lips are warm against his own. He faintly tastes like lime and even though the kiss above all is a comforting one, and it still sends a thrill through his spine. Most of all, it feels like coming home.

“I missed you,” he murmurs when TK only slightly pulls away.

“Me too,” he tells him gently, brushing his cheekbone with his thumb before he pulls further away.

“Turns out you’re very hard to stop thinking about,” he says, in a light tone, almost jokingly, even though it is the truth.

He remembers when he described TK to Michelle all those months ago and said that he cannot get him out of his head. That had been a more accurate description than he would have imagined.

TK laughs so hard he lets his head fall back. “That’s probably first time anyone has said that about me,” he says, flashing a brilliant smile, but his smile fades away and he looks graver. “I know you deserved better than what I did, but I never not wanted you. I was just—in a messy and confusing place in my life and I didn’t want to get hurt again.”

Carlos stays quiet, because he feels like he might not have finished talking and he has heard these things before, and he just wants to give him the space to say what he wants to.

“And I didn’t want to hurt you either, and I thought maybe you would be better off without me,” he says, quietly, but he looks back up to him.

“That’s quite an assumption to make on your own,” he tells him, kindly.

He knows he could have backed off of whatever they had at any point, and usually he doesn’t want to bother with people who have gone through messy break ups because he doesn’t want to end up being the rebound. He could have backed off when he learned about his addiction, but he had not, because he had seen TK as himself and he knew he was worth chasing for.

“I know, I’m good at jumping into conclusions,” he jokes, but sighs deeply. “And as you know, I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but the universe must have been mocking me by throwing you at my way because--,” he lets his voice trail away.

“You’re you and I got a glimpse of what we could be, and it was almost too good to be true, and I got fucking terrified, and it threw me off the loop and I was a coward,” he finishes, and he has been talking rapidly the whole time, and he ends up sounding breathless.

“You were not,” he corrects him. “You were trying to protect yourself and there’s nothing wrong with that,” he adds, softly, and takes his hand into his own. “And I’d have never wanted you to do something you were not ready for.”

TK glances at their hands, almost wistfully, but he doesn’t pull his own away. “I guess. And what I’m trying to say is that I still want you if you will have me.”

A wave of relief goes through him and he lets out a long exhale. He looks at the skyline that has been painted bright orange and golden by the sunset and he feels calm even if his heart keeps fluttering in his chest and he cannot physically fight the smile that tries to form on his lips.

“I’m generally not opposed to second chances,” he says and raises their intertwined hands so that he can kiss his knuckles. “And I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

This time, Carlos is the one who kisses him. The kiss itself is still gentle, but there are stronger emotions humming underneath it, and he is squeezing his hand a little tighter, as if fearing that he would disappear. TK’s hand ends up in his neck and he is stroking his hairline with his fingertips and he parts his lips slightly and TK laughs into the kiss.  

“I thought--,” TK tries when they depart to breath, but he is still resting his head against his forehead. “I thought I had messed up any chance with the back and forth,” he admits against his lips.

“This better be the last back-and-forth we do,” he says, with a chuckle. “I only want this if you’re all in, too.”

“I am,” he promises, and he sounds so sure of it, he cannot even doubt his words.

TK kisses him again, and it is the sort of all-consuming kiss they shared in the very beginning, and all of his senses are just full of him. The way he smells the cologne he uses and the way his fingers feel just slightly rough against his cheek and his slight stubble tickles his chin. He is his one and only thought.

“This evening took a turn I wasn’t expecting,” he says, when they pull away from each other once again. He tries to catch his breath, but his stomach keeps somersaulting at just the way TK keeps glancing at him.

“I know,” he laughs.

“You know, we can still take it as slow as you want,” he says, when his mind feels just a bit clearer, because he knows that just because they have decided to give it another go, it doesn’t mean any of the issues that existed already would magically disappear.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, but he grins. “Would you like to go out with me? Honest to god date and all that,” he asks, excitment colouring his voice.

“I’d love that.”

“Great,” he says, planting a kiss on his forehead. “Also unrelated to asking you out because I’m going to plan a proper date and not just some impromptu thing, but do you want something to eat? I’m starving.”

“Sure,” he replies, and stands up. He helps TK up too, even though he doesn’t require help, but he likes to do it, anyway.  “Tacos?” He asks, nodding towards a taco cart that is located a couple of blocks away.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Suddenly, tacos feel like a beginning of something new.

[sebastianshaw]

Welcome to Munday! For new followers, on Munday sometimes I just post a bunch of personal things about myself and my life on Mun Monday like this, since it’s an appropriate day for it. I tag it “munday” and “mun monday” if you want to skip it! - I am honestly so in love with D’artagnan, I’m so glad I got him. He’s in my lap cuddling while I write this. -  People are always talking about how everything in Australia wants to kill you because all they know is the spiders and snakes and sharks and saltwater crocs but there is also a TON of cute small animals no one talks about! Pademelons don’t want to kill you! Bilbys don’t want to kill you! Potoroos don’t want to kill you! Numbats don’t want to kill you! Bettongs don’t want to kill you! The abundant species of possums don’t want to kill you! Quolls would probably want to kill you but they’re not big enough so they don’t. - I saw someone post that there’s a big difference in how LGBT fans thirst for Lady Dimitrescu vs how straight fans do, how straight fans are all “mmm big tiddy mommy milkers step on me” and LGBT fans are all “I will love and cherish this woman and help raise her daughters”. . . . bruh, bullshit. I’m a full-ass homosexual woman and I want her to fucking sit on me with her massive dumper and choke me out like any pervy dude. And a lot of people in the notes, I am satisfied to say, was saying the same. Seriously, I get that LGBT people were misrepresented purely as perverts for so long, and often still are, but that doesn’t mean we’re all these wholesome pure angels devoid of carnality, sheesh. Whether or not you’re a nasty little sub like me thirsty for a mommy dom has nothing to do with orientation, and when you say “LGBT people aren’t like THAT” it’s honestly kinda damaging to those of us who ARE. Like, I’m not about to take it all personal-like, but there’s a lot of younger people already struggling with accepting their sexuality, now they’re hearing it’s wrong for an LGBT person to have kinks or overtly sexual feelings, come on. I don’t think this ONE POST is going to damage anyone on it’s own, but it’s part of this overall culture on Tumblr I see that says that “only gross dirty nasty cishets care about SEX ew not like the pure uwu queers who love on a deep ethereal level beyond the mere flesh” and like. . . yeah way to make teens struggling with sexual feelings feel even more isolated and weird and bad there. Let people be shamelessly thirsty for giant vampire mommy dommes, sheesh. - I’m watching this Turkish drama and I mentioned it to my mom, and she started talking about how there was a movie made “about a contemporary of mine” a young man from New York who went to Turkey and stole something from a mosque and got imprisoned with a life sentence and he met a Swedish boy in the jail and they become lovers and he escaped and I was just like WAIT WHOA WHOA YOU KNEW THIS GUY and she was like “well no but I felt like I knew him” when she watched the movie and they apparently like. . . .lived or went to school in the same area once. Mom. Mom that is NOT what a “contemporary” means, omfg.  - The reason I’m watching a domestic drama, which is usually not my speed at all, is that I’m really into learning about different cultures, and for the past few years my focus has been Central Asia, Turkey, and Iran. I’ve always done this via academic-style research, articles and videos as well as reading firsthand accounts, such as Reddit AMAs, of people who live in those countries. But I read about this one, “Ethos”And while I’m sure a Turkish drama is no more realistic than an American one, I do think “Ethos” was a good one to pick because it focuses on people from MULTIPLE parts of Turkish society, from urban educated professionals to traditional rural poor people, a holy man and a woman vehemently opposed to headscarfs, a very rich playboy and a family struggling to get by, a woman dealing with severe mental illness, and apparently we’re going to get a closeted lesbian and a Kurdish family later too. So there’s a lot of diversity, not necessarily in the ethnic sense like you might look for in a US series but in terms of getting multiple perspectives of very different people in very different social strata that’s nonetheless all in or around Istanbul. -Also, I had been meaning to look up Azerbaijan for awhile, since like I said I’m focusing on that area of the world right now, and I finally got around to it yesterday. I learned about mud volcanoes, and that women got the right to vote there before they did in the United States! - I ran across this CLIP FROM FAMILY GUY and I was like “ha ha me” and then was like. . ..wait, that actually was me. I had to have a parapro with me at all times when I was in middle and high school due to my mental issues, and there was a period where my self-harming was so bad they had to go to the bathroom with me. And like. . ..holy shit, I’m doing so much better now. Took like 15 years but damn. I generally DON’T remember most of my pre-college life and I TRY NOT TO for obvious reasons, but in a weird way it was kind of HEARTENING to remember this to be like, wow, it did get better, I did get better. I really hope anyone reading this who is struggling with severe mental issues like I did, knows it can. And I know you don’t believe it right now because I didn’t, I know it’s impossible to convince you, I still kind of can’t believe it, but it CAN.