#I have more fond memories with some of these toys than with the relative I just lost. the fuck

[soul-reapr]

Hey, you're assigning personalities to plastic again

[golvio]

Some spoilers for Hades 2 early access regarding Chronos below the cut.

He did not look or sound at all like what I expected, but I now immediately understand why all of his adult children are Like That, as well as why they’d quickly drop their previous squabbles and band together to try to get rid of him when he tried to force himself back into their lives. I instantly recognized every single trick he tried to pull on Mel when he first met her to try to manipulate her or put her down to “put her in her place” from other people’s descriptions of their own shitty, appearance-obsessed control freak parents with untreated personality disorders. I think the more understated delivery really works for him, particularly with that underlying paternalistic edge of absolute certainty and treating his enemies like misbehaving children who need to be reminded who’s in charge, even if they’re grown-ass adults. I also feel absolutely terrible for Hades, given that dear ol’ dad is trying to reassert control over him by “taking away his toys” and trashing everything he’d worked so hard to build in order to force him back into his original position of childlike dependency. It’s been almost 20 years and he *really* hasn’t finished “renovations” and fixed up the throne room? He doesn’t give a shit about actually maintaining the realm, just punishing Hades for trying to emancipate himself and be an independent adult by asserting ownership over all of Hades’ stuff and forcing him to watch as Daddy Dearest destroys everything he loved. He pretends to be absolutely rational and objective, but he’s actually a pathetic, emotionally immature piece of shit who throws manipulative tantrums and breaks things to bully his own children into compliance, and I can’t believe Mel has to waste her life fighting this loser who’s got nothing better to do than bully his barely-adult granddaughter. Kudos to Supergiant for making one of the most skincrawling depictions of an abusive dad ever.

But, also, now it makes a bit more sense for Hecate to have raised Mel in isolation—it’s easier to blow off an abusive relative’s appeals to authority when they’re a complete stranger to you. However, it’s also interesting that her early meetings with Chronos are the first time polite, deferential Melinoë has just straight-up told an adult trying to pull rank to fuck off. But that might be because she’s got no memories of him or fondness for him, so there’s no sense of filial piety or family obligation that would otherwise make her blame or second-guess herself. She has a slightly harder time with her, uh, more assertive Olympian relatives who she has more of a personal connection to and are slightly more subtle and “nice” about trying to goad her in specific directions. However, I also think Mel meeting Artemis and Hermes first and them warning her in advance about how overbearing the rest of the family can be might’ve inoculated her somewhat, even if she’s more like her dad in that she lacks the more intuitive way with people Zagreus has and isn’t as certain how to use her own charisma as leverage.

Anyways, I hope Melinoë kicks her Peepaw’s ass, but, given the type of real-life personality he has, I’m not sure if that’s actually going to make him stop or change short of a White Diamond-level epiphany where he realizes what a piece of shit he’s been to his own children and willingly fucks off out of his grandkid’s life forever.

[robin-the-enby]

Téir abhaile 'riú

Pairing: Bofur x f!reader

Summary: After Smaug took over The Lonely Mountain, Bofur and his relatives travelled far to find a new home. Although knowing it would never be the same as the place where he grew up, meeting who the dwarf could only describe as the love of his life could make things more bearable.

Warnings: slight mention of alcohol, no beta we die like men, overbearing sibling

A/N: I don't even know how, but suddenly I am very much in The Hobbit fandom again. And while listening to this playlist, I came up with this cute idea! I hope you'll like it!

It has been a few years since Smaug took over Erebor, a wound still fresh in the hearts of many dwarven families. But dwarves were resilient folk and so when a portion of them came across The Blue Mountains, they quickly set to build a settlement there, knowing that their ancestors used to live in these mountains as well.

And while nothing could ever compare to Erebor, the dwarven settlers were happy with what they've build for themselves. The Blue Mountains were a great oppoturnity to start anew. With everything needed for all kinds of businesses to prosper in near vicinity, they quickly adapted to their new home, the memory of the great kingdom becoming a fond, but somewhat painful echo in their hearts.

It was truly a place of abundance. With the mountains themselves towering over their roofs, they were surrounded by thick and calm woods that seemed ancient. And if one wanted to, they could simply get all the way down to the seaside.

It also helped that they weren't the only ones who found their home in the embrace of the mountain range. There were many elven habitants in the woods and even human settlers scattered all around, making trading goods easy and accessible.

But it is true that the dwarves usually stuck by each other, venturing into other settlements only for business. The tragedy that struck them still hung around them like a thick fog and they didn't particularly enjoy all the whispers around them when they did make an appearance somewhere.

Bofur wasn't any different than his kin in this sense. While the dwarf liked to remain optimistic, being constantly reminded of what they had gone through everywhere they went was...unpleasant. Luckilly, as time went on, the commotion slowly faded and the dwarves blended into the rest of the habitants of The Blue Mountains.

Once a year, a big festival was held near the seaside, in the biggest human town in the area. Granted, it wasn't nowhere near the cities elves, dwarves, even some humans were used to, but nobody really minded, since The spring festival meant not only good music and fun all day and night, but also a big fair and since all races came and celebrated together on this rare occassion, it was a good oppoturnity to gain clientele.

The spring festival was an event the people in the port town held as a celebration of their sailors returning safely home from their travels during the winter. What started as a local event quickly grew into something much bigger though. Everyone wanted to meet the local heroes, hear their stories and most importantly, have fun.

And that's why Bofur and his brother were helping their families and neighbours pack and load all the things they wanted to sell at the fair onto carts, prepare the ponies and clean up for the festival. It was one of the busiest mornings in a very long time. There was so much noise all around, one might think they were going crazy. It would also take a good few hours before they descended to the port town, so everything needed to be perfectly ready.

Bofur was excited. He worked very hard throughout the winter to make the best toys he could and he couldn't wait to show them off to others. Seeing the eyes on children's faces light up, as their mouths hung open and they begged their parents to buy them at least one small figurine was a priceless experience. After getting everything onto the cart, he started helping Bombur with ingredients and equipment for his food stand. Bombur also worked hard, preparing homemade sausages and cheese, as well as picking the best vegetables and other foods. But Bombur was much more excited he will be able to buy some good quality fish to change up the daily menu for his family.

The two brothers chatted happily about this and that as everyone got ready for the journey. Bombur was excitedly ranting about how many ways he will be able to prepare the fish for his family after such a long time. Bofur chuckled and reminded him that if he serves nothing but fish for two weeks in a row like last year, Bifur might just smash a plate on his head.

The rest of the way to the town went in a similar lighthearted spirit. The weather was nice, the sun was shining, the air was fresh, and for the start of spring, it was pretty warm. it was magical, watching the new leaves growing on the old trees, as if they came back to life after months of short, cold days and long, even colder nights. Finally, they reached the end of the forest. In front of them were just fields, full of blooming flowers and some early bees here and there. They were gently swaying in the light breeze and were surrounded by the ocassional butterflies that woke up early in the year.

In front of their cart, Bofur could see a few others in the distance. He couldn't make out who exactly it was, maybe other dwarves from their town or perhaps some elves or humans. The silver shine of the sea water on the horizon made him smile. They were getting pretty close! And when he squinted, he could make out faint smoke coming from the port town, which wasn't yet visible.

"Come on, we need to hurry!"

Disturbed from his musings, Bofur looked around for the sing songy voice that called out. Realising it came from somewhere behind him, he was beginning to turn around, when a flurry of hair and clothes whizzed past their cart, jumping in the already tall grass right next to the road.

The person stopped a short distance from Bofur and looked back at whoever she was shouting at. Smoothing out her clothes, the girl, as Bofur saw, looked back at where the town laid ahead and said "I can see the smoke! I can't wait to dance around the big bonfire!" she giggled and looked back, shouting again "Hurry up!" before laughing and running along.

Bofur chuckled at the girl's enthusiasm. He almost wanted to turn back to face the road, when two very out of breath young ladies caught up to him and his brother. They panted heavily as they slowed to a walking pace. When they caught their breath, Bofur said "Your friend seems very excited."

The two women chuckled shakily. "Oh yes, but that's (Y/N). She loves The spring festival. She's a carefree soul, one could say." the taller one shrugged. "You can say that again. She's a good lass, but she's a handful. Always wondering somewhere, I swear she's trying to get herself into trouble. I'm just waiting for our parents to lose their minds one day." the shorter one, presumably (Y/N)'s sister, rolled her eyes, but her tone was playful. "Well, I should probably catch up to her, otherwise she'll just climb onto one of the boats and sail away on her own." the girl sighed and jogged off again, leaving Bofur with the two's friend alone.

"I assume you're travelling to the Spring festival as well?" she asked the dwarf sweetly. "Aye," he confirmed "I'll have a stand with toys for children and my brother here will have his food stand." he nodded towards Bombur, who silently nodded, not really having been interested in what was happening, although he listened. "Toys? Oh that's lovely! I might just stop by and get something for my little Dudon." she smiled softly. "That's an interesting name! Is he your little brother?" Bofur asked. "No, he's my son." the girl laughed "He will be three years old soon." "You're kidding!" Bofur's eyes widened "Wouldn't have guessed you already had a family." "I've been married for a few years now. My family is the biggest blessing I could have ever had." the girl sighed, before looking up at him "Where will your stand be located? I don't want to make a fool of myself looking for you." Bofur laughed "Near the center of the town square. So that my brother gets as many clients as possible."

The girl giggled and waved him goodbye, saying she should catch up to her friends before she'll get lost and ran off.

*****

The whole town was bustling with life. Music and laughter came from every direction, all kinds of people were on the streets and in the shops and pubs lining them.

Bofur was very busy. His toys were selling like hot cakes. The only thing he managed to do between serving customers and rearranging and refilling the range of toys he prepared was to glance at Bombur's stand from time to time. He seemed to be doing very well. All the people were leaving his stand amazed, often with their mouths dirty from his delicious food.

Hours were passing by in what felt like lightning speed, the only indication being the sun moving along the sky. As the day slowly came to an end, the streets slowly lit up and more and more merchants packed up their stands, their products sold, ready to just enjoy themselves and try not spend all they've earned that day.

It seemed no one would buy any toys anymore, people whizzing past in a hazy flurry, leaving only laughter behind, instead of curiously looking around. Just as he started packing up, a very out of breath young woman stopped before his stand. He realised it was the same woman of the three they met on the way to the festival.

"Running to see me eh?" he smirked playfully. He was rewarded with a playfully offended expression "Excuse me sir, I am married." the woman scolded Bofur before taking a look around his stand "My, my, the folks really plundered this place." she then looked at the dwarf, who was holding a wooden crate, ready to put the rest of the toys in "Oh I'm so sorry, I didn't realise you were packing up already! Is it alright if I buy one toy, I swear I'll be quick!" the woman fretted and Bofur laughed "It's alright, I can wait a bit longer. Take whatever you think your boy would like."

As the young mother's eyes scanned over Bofur's products she apologized again for coming so late, explaining it with "We lost (Y/N) again. Her sister is running all around to find her. Buying a toy completely slipped my mind, but I was looking around here so I thought I'd quickly stop by." she chuckled at the end and Bofur looked at her with curiosity "Aren't you worried about your friend?" "No." the woman laughed "Her sister is. (Y/N) is a grown woman, who can make her own choices. She's adventurous, sure, but she doesn't need to be coddled, no wonder she's hiding somewhere. I would be doing the same if I was her." The woman explained as she continued looking around the toys. At last, she picked a wooden fox and paid Bofur the price, leaving a small tip, for "being so kind". Bofur thanked the woman, bid her goodbye and wished luck with finding their friend.

Bofur packed the rest of his stuff and met with Bombur, who also finished putting away his products. They both decided to stay in town and enjoy the atmosphere. After all, they both worked hard the whole day.

Finding a place to have some shouldn't have been as hard as it was. Every inn they came across seemed packed to the brim, the rowdy patrons could be heard from outside. Finally, after wandering for what seemed like hours, they came across a small establishment in a tucked away alleyway. Laughter and music could be heard from the inside, but when the brothers peered through the windows, they saw that there were many seats to be taken. Walking inside, they discovered a small, cozy looking tavern. A few tables lined the walls, only some of them occupied. Right across the entrance was a bar with a few stools, probably for regulars. The dim lighting made the atmosphere more intimate.

The dwarves sat down at a vacant table and started a pleasant conversation about today. Although, Bofur mostly listened to his brother ramble excitedly about all the products he was able to trade or buy, and all the recipies that were already flooding his mind. Their one sided conversation was interrupted, however, when two jugs of ale were placed in front of them. Both brothers looked up at the same time to the one who brought them the drinks. They saw an older, small, stout woman smiling warmly at them. "Here you go gentlemen! Enjoy!" she said sweetly. "But we didn't order anything yet?" Bofur asked with confusion. "It's a gift from one of the patrons" the woman expained, her smile mysterious. Both brothers discreetly scanned their surroundings, but everybody minded their own business. "Well, we'd like to meet the person who sent this." Bombur exclaimed. He was a little suspicious, the chance of the woman pretending those drinks were a gift, only to charge them for them in the end was not small. On the other hand, if they really were a gift, they would like to thank the person face to face.

The woman smiled and thought for a second, before shrugging "I'll ask her." and then made her way back to the bar. Bofur and Bombur looked at each other. "So a lass, eh?" Bombur muttered. "You think she's pretty?" Bofur thought out loud. "As if that'd matter to me. I am happily taken if you forgot!" Bombur huffed and took out his pipe, stuffing it carefully with herbs. "You on the other hand..." he gave his brother a side eye, a small, teasing smile stretching on his face as he put the pipe to his mouth. Bofur rolled his eyes and was prepared to retaliate, before they were interrupted again.

"Good evening!" a voice chirped. Looking up, Bofur recognized the person standing at their table as (Y/N), the infamous troublemaker. "Didn't think we'd see each other again." she smiled. After a brief moment of silence, she added "You're welcome for the ale, by the way." Bofur felt his brother kick his leg under the table and as if he was just woken up from a trance, he scooted over, patting the space next to him "Yes! Yes, thank you, you didn't have to do that. Would you like to join us?" (Y/N) giggled and slid onto the bench next to Bofur.

As the day drew to a close and merchants were less and less busy, the working attitude fell off of everyone's shoulders and was replaced with relaxed fun, that escalated more and more with time...and alcohol. And the small tavern wasn't any different. Conversations became louder and laughter more frequent. Everyone was having a good time. Bofur, Bombur and (Y/N) weren't an exception. The woman exchanged stories with the dwarves, although Bombur let his brother tell most of the stories, as he could do it better. Bombur was content listening, sometimes adding in details his brother forgot, but he enjoyed more seeing how the two were closer and closer to each other.

When (Y/N) first sat next to Bofur, there was a small, but appropriate distance between them, like with any people who just met that day. But as the night progressed and both of them were getting more and more comfortable (and probably tipsy, Bombur drank less than half the amount Bofur and (Y/N) did, because at least one of them had to be sober enough to drive them home), the distance between them was smaller and smaller, and now they were practically leaning on one another.

Everyone was having so much fun, they didn't even notice someone approaching their table until someone tapped (Y/N) on the shoulder. She turned to the stranger, recognizing him as one of the patrons in the tavern. With a smile, she asked "Can I help you?" The man rubbed his neck in a nervous manner and spoke "I hate to interrupt you miss, but me and my friends were thinking of playing some tunes to brighten the mood and the good lady behind the counter told us you can play spoons...If you'd like to join us?" (Y/N) looked uncertainly at Bofur and Bombur, but they only smiled, Bombur inhaling smoke from his pipe and Bofur encouraging her "You can play lass? Well I'd definitely love to see that!" he grinned at her. (Y/N) giggled and stood up, taking two spoons from the older woman efore making her way to the table where the musicians were sitting. They were already taking out their instruments. Soon, lovely music could be heard on the street. Not too long after, people from the outside began flocking in, first to see what was going on, lured and intrgued by the swift melodies and soon the tavern was bustling with life. The conversation between Bofur and Bombur ceased, the former too busy looking at (Y/N)'s hands working the spoons together, creating interesting rhythms.

After maybe an hour, the small establishment was filled with people. All tables were full and who couldn't sit was dancing in the open space. Some more musicians joined the original ones and (Y/N) was now more or less sitting by them and enjoying herself. The table where Bofur and Bombur were sitting at was no longer occupied by just them, but other people as well, strangers. They made conversation amongst themselves, not caring to include the brothers, so they just looked around, content in their silence. But Bombur noticed his brother's eyes always ending up on that girl. Once he had enough of Bofur's oggling, he nudged him across the table, motioning with his head towards her. "Ask her for a dance." he told him and Bofur shook his head, although the grin on his face suggested he was entertaining the idea even before Bombur asked. He stood up and carefully made his way around the dancing folk towards the band.

When he reached (Y/N), he smiled at her, although a bit sheepishly and extended his hand towards her, bowing slightly. She looked up at him and gently put her hand into his, letting him pull her up. "I thought you'd never ask." she smiled smugly at him.

They twirled around for what felt like eternity. His hands on hers, on her waist, her hands on his shoulders, their faces so close to each other, their breaths mingling. (Y/N)'s eyes rolled around, laughter pouring out of her pretty throat. Bofur's eyes seemingly couldn't leave her though. While hers were full of amazement and sparks, his held a tenderness that would surely make any girl swoon if they'd see it. And she looked at him. Her smile became more gentle, her lips slightly parted as they gazed into each other's soul.

"There you are!" someone grabbed (Y/N)'s arm tightly and oulled her away from her dancing partner. It was her sister and she was quite mad. "Do you realize what time it is?! I was looking for you all over the town!" she spewed at her, while (Y/N) only managed to blink, stil dazed from the moment she just had with the handsome dwarf. "It's time to go home." her sister decided and tried pulling her to the exit. (Y/N) pulled out of her grasp and signaled for her to wait a moment. She turned to Bofur, who was pretending to not listen, and grabbed his hand, making him look at her. She smiled sadly and kissed his cheek. As she let go of his hand and turned towards her sister, who started gesturing wildly and was probably trying to figure out what she just witnessed, Bofur grinned like a mad man. He touched his cheek carefully and mumbled "Till next time then, lass..."

[queenofcats17]

17 forrrrr sammy x wally?

Oh, I think I have the perfect idea for this~

17. …to distract.

.

Of all the people Sammy had to be stuck in this godforsaken inky hellhole with it just had to be Wally Franks, didn't it?

Contrary to popular belief, Sammy didn't hate Wally, even if he did find the janitor incredibly frustrating at times. While the studio had been running, Wally's presence had been a relatively familiar and comforting one. However, in this new and strange inky world, loud was the last thing you wanted to be. And loud was exactly what Wally was. Sammy had lost count of how many times he'd had to shush the former janitor to keep him from giving away their position to any enemy.

Currently, the two of them were scavenging for supplies in the Heavenly Toys area, which meant Sammy was especially on edge for fear the Ink Demon might suddenly appear. Not to mention they were venturing awfully close to "Alice's" territory, and Sammy knew she would jump at the chance to get her hands on the hearts of two almost perfect looking toons.

"You gotta relax, Sammy!" Wally said as he dug through the piles of plushes, searching for some bacon soup cans. "You're gonna give yourself a heart attack worrying so much!" He paused, frowning slightly. "Can toons even get heart attacks?"

"I would rather not find out," Sammy replied, glancing over his shoulder back at the doorway. "And I worry exactly the right amount for the situation! Our lives are at stake, Wally!"

Wally let out a small sigh. "Alright, yeah, you're right, but you gotta let yourself live a little too! You can't just run on survival forever!"

"I would much rather allow myself to live a little in the safety of the safe house," Sammy grumbled, folding his arms.

"Come ooon!" Wally held up a Boris plush. "Don't you wanna hug one? Just one?"

Sammy paused, scrutinizing the plush. He had been about to say no outright, but it would be nice to hug something something... Did he really want to hug Boris though? But then again, both Bendy and Alice now conjured up bad memories. Boris was the only character who was, for the most part, untainted in his mind. Boris just reminded him of Wally now.

He was wrenched from this thought process, though, by a horrifyingly familiar sound.

The sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Sammy's head immediately snapped in the direction of the doorway where he could see the familiar ink veins creeping closer. Oh God... There were no Miracle Stations nearby. Nowhere for them to hide. Nowhere except one of the back aisles.

He immediately grabbed Wally by his overalls, hauling him into the back aisle, far back enough that the Ink Demon wouldn't see them if he entered the room.

"Hey, what's the big idea?" Wally demanded. "Don't go manhandling me like that!"

"Wally, I need you to shut up," Sammy hissed as the heartbeat sound grew louder.

"Wha-? Why?"

Couldn't Wally hear that sound?!

"Wally, please, I need you to just be quiet," Sammy begged.

The ink veins were creeping into the room. They were almost out of time.

"Is something comin' or someth-" Wally was cut off as Sammy pressed him against the wall and slammed their lips together, silencing the former janitor.

For a moment, Wally was stunned, too surprised to even move. Then, he leaned into it, wrapping his arms around Sammy.

Sammy didn't pull away until the pounding of the heartbeat in his ears was gone, and he could no longer see the ink veins on the walls.

"I'm...sorry about that," he said, a bit out of breath as he removed himself from Wally.

"Why're you sorry?" Wally asked. "That was great!" His tail was wagging more vigorously than Sammy had ever seen it wag before.

Sammy blinked, then sighed. "Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it at least. I was sure we were going to die there."

"I can think of worse ways to go out," Wally said with a grin.

Sammy rolled his eyes with exasperated fondness. "Let's head back to the house, alright? I think that's enough scavenging for the day."

"Can I get another kiss when we get back?" Wally stumbled a bit following Sammy out of the toy room.

"Only if you ask nicely," Sammy replied. "And if you don't cause any more trouble on the way back."

Wally's grin widened. "I can do that!"

"I would certainly hope so."

At the very least, Sammy now knew he had a guaranteed way to make Wally shut up when they were in danger.

...And he didn't mind doing it either.

[nyc-uws]

Le Balcon, poème de Charles Baudelaire, est tiré du recueil Les Fleurs du Mal publié en 1857 (section Spleen et Idéal).  Baudelaire évoque les souvenirs de ses soirées heureuses en compagnie d'une femme (Jeanne Duval). Celle-ci tient le rôle principal et une place centrale dans ce poème.

📖

Mère des Souvenirs, Maîtresse des Maîtresses, Ô toi, tous mes plaisirs ! ô toi, tous mes devoirs ! Tu te rappelleras la beauté des caresses, La douceur du foyer et le charme des soirs, Mère des souvenirs, maîtresse des maîtresses ! Les soirs illuminés par l'ardeur du charbon, Et les soirs au balcon, voilés de vapeurs roses. Que ton sein m'était doux ! que ton cœur m'était bon ! Nous avons dit souvent d'impérissables choses Les soirs illumines par l'ardeur du charbon. Que les soleils sont beaux dans les chaudes soirées ! Que l'espace est profond ! que le cœur est puissant ! En me penchant vers toi, reine des adorées, Je croyais respirer le parfum de ton sang. Que les soleils sont beaux dans les chaudes soirées ! La nuit s'épaississait ainsi qu'une cloison, Et mes yeux dans le noir devinaient tes prunelles, Et je buvais ton souffle, ô douceur ! ô poison ! Et tes pieds s'endormaient dans mes mains fraternelles. La nuit s'épaississait ainsi qu'une cloison. Je sais l'art d'évoquer les minutes heureuses, Et revis mon passé blotti dans tes genoux. Car à quoi bon chercher tes beautés langoureuses Ailleurs qu'en ton cher corps et qu'en ton cœur si doux ? Je sais l'art d'évoquer les minutes heureuses ! Ces serments, ces parfums, ces baisers infinis, Renaîtront-ils d'un gouffre interdit à nos sondes, Comme montent au ciel les soleils rajeunis Après s'être lavés au fond des mers profondes ? - Ô serments ! ô parfums ! ô baisers infinis !

The Balcony Addressed to Baudelaire’s mistress Jeanne Duval, this is one of the most beautiful poems of one of the world’s greatest poets. The original French poem is followed by several different English translations. I have put the three relatively literal prose translations first because I want to encourage you to try reading the original, even if you know little or no French. The verse renderings all have significant and in many cases ludicrous flaws. Often they distort the meaning or even fabricate some totally different meaning (usually in order to come up with a rhyme); but even when they stay fairly close to the original sense there are invariably passages that strike a false note, words or phrases that just don’t have the right tone or rhythm. At best, some of the English versions sometimes give a hint of the original. More often they merely serve as object lessons in the difficulties of translation. 📖 Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses, O you, all my pleasure, O you, all my duty! You'll remember the sweetness of our caresses, The peace of the fireside, the charm of the evenings. Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses! The evenings lighted by the glow of the coals, The evenings on the balcony, veiled with rose mist; How soft your breast was to me! how kind was your heart! We often said imperishable things, The evenings lighted by the glow of the coals. How splendid the sunsets are on warm evenings! How deep space is! how potent is the heart! In bending over you, queen of adored women, I thought I breathed the perfume in your blood. How splendid the sunsets are on warm evenings! The night was growing dense like an encircling wall, My eyes in the darkness felt the fire of your gaze And I drank in your breath, O sweetness, O poison! And your feet nestled soft in my brotherly hands. The night was growing dense like an encircling wall. I know the art of evoking happy moments, And live again our past, my head laid on your knees, For what's the good of seeking your languid beauty Elsewhere than in your dear body and gentle heart? I know the art of evoking happy moments. Those vows, those perfumes, those infinite kisses, Will they be reborn from a gulf we may not sound, As rejuvenated suns rise in the heavens After being bathed in the depths of deep seas? — O vows! O perfumes! O infinite kisses!

* William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954) https://fleursdumal.org/poem/133

[moniquill]

@frogeyedape these tags have passed peer review:

#i really admire the refusal to bow to the social pressure of cancel culture while also really struggling with it#like there are elements of cancel culture that i am way too deep in the sauce in. like. how i post is often automatically defensive#and i think of my friend who said (years ago) how frustrating it is that people won't give up harry potter for the antisemitism#(not to mention how the antisemitism got completely overshadowed by the transphobia)#and like...in a balance between not being deliberately offensive vs speaking difficult truths about complex subjects...#it's probably healthier to be able to engage with “questionable” content and works by canceled/objectionable creators#(including not just authors but artists and artisans of all sorts)#you know...“offensive” is rather loaded...like...power gets offended by challenges...but it's the same word as for like deliberately rude &#bigoted behavior. who is speaking and who is offended is so important in judging whether offense is like...necessary pushback against#unbalanced power structures vs just being hateful & mean for the sake of it#and my mushy little falls-too-easily-for-black-and-white-thinking brain needs reminders that no actually nothing is that simple#the idea/goal behind cancel culture is...what? a) don't promote bad (bigoted-offensive sexual misconduct etc) actors to “prevent harm” (and#what does that mean?) b) maintain personal purity by refusing to associate with/read/etc any actor/topic/author/etc that has fucked up#sufficiently to be canceled (and like people do get canceled for legitimately bad behavior. but even assuming all canceled people actually#did what they're accused of some % of them can/do/did alter their behavior and yet remain canceled)...#is my disavowal of eg harry potter doing more harm to my nephews who note have a sorting hat e-toy i don't approve of than not boycotting it#would harm my trans & jewish friends? is not-canceling a problematic thing *harmful* in itself?#my nephews don't need a purer-than-though relative judging their playthings (even if silently) and making them feel bad or wrong#ugghh

The thing about 'cancelling' is that it's almost always performative and tied up in purity culture. I do not know what this person's beef with Neil Gaiman is, nor do I care, it's not even a little bit relevant to the thread. His name was mentioned in the context of 'Is an author' and 'started his career by publishing short fiction'. At no point did anyone claim that he is an example of impoverished rags to riches, or defend his character re: allegations. It was pure derail, plucking THE NAME OF A FORBIDDEN ONE, ONE WHO IS TO BE SHUUUUUUUUUUNNNED from an otherwise unrelated conversation and obsessing over it.

Never speaking about Harry Potter again is doing nothing to stop JKR from lending her support to transphobic causes; the important thing is not to give her MONEY and to refute particularly bullshit things she says while largely ignoring her. Meanwhile never speaking about Harry Potter again means missing out on the literary analysis of a fucking cultural juggernaut that dominated the 00's and fundamentally changed the face of YA going forward. It is important to talk about The Problems with those books/movies/the extended universe AND it's not Evilbadsinful to have fond memories of something that deeply impacted your childhood (even if it had Problems! Even if you didn't notice those problems as an actual literal child!)

Fandom did some amazing things and they're worth talking about.

Why would you reblog someone citing Neil Gaiman as an example of traditionally published working class authors? Apart from the rape stuff, Gaiman was born wealthy and powerful and with lots of social resources.

Because:

I'm not the purity police, Neil Gaiman can still be cited as an example of 'author with recognizable name here on Tumblr.com' and the statement 'This very famous author started with short stories' is factually accurate

2. Ætherograph is my actual for-real friend.

Either read more of my blog and learn that I do not subscribe to total blanket cancellation (I'll even talk about the complex cultural ramifications of the Harry Potter series!) or read less of it and go the fuck away.

[flaringfoxsoul03]

Obey Me Headcanons!

Note: Personal hcs that I’ve thought about! All about the brothers!

Trigger warnings: Mentions of alcohol, drugs, emotional abuse, bodily harm, suicidal thoughts, sexual abuse, depression, anxiety, eating disorders, murder

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Lucifer

Contrary to belief, Lucifer definitely drinks more than just Demonus. Despite it being his favorite go to in general and usually available alcohol, there’s more kinds of demonic alcohol that exists. Having being with the Demon Prince almost always, this demon with literally no ability to stop needs a stout drink and Demonus isn’t always on hand

I also personally believe that he has a little flasks that magically bigger on the inside. One for coffee and one for alcohol. And yes, he’s accidentally mixed them up once before and let’s just say he definitely struggled that day. Diavolo, Barbatos, Satan, and Belphie were they only ones to realize this and ultimately decided that Lucifer may need the weekend to recover. Satan and Belphie together decided to run and do their eldest brother’s work for the weekend with a couple of instructions from Barbatos while Diavolo pampered Lucifer. Lucifer found it hard to accept until after dinner at the palace when Diavolo sat him down and explained what he hoped to do for him. Albeit embarrassed, Diavolo was allowed and Lucifer actually had a pleasant weekend, no punishments needed to be dished out when he came home on the next school day and even gave rewards to Satan and Belphie for doing the unexpected (this turned into allowing Belphie and Satan to do two pranks that he purposely fell for, each one led by the other as it was agreed upon and couldn’t be deadly or destroy work for Lord Diavolo)

Lucifer often sneaks (as in actually taking a break) off to take care of Cerberus more often than not when he can’t handle the stress anymore. It’s not like the Avatar of Pride can really hire anyone to take care of his massive demonic dog, it’s kinda of got a reputation for turning demons and most other things into chew toys before they see Lucifer again

Secretly wears sweatshirts with hoodies when he’s having a rough go at it. Only ever wears it in his room with the door locked magically and physically. He can’t stand the idea of looking unkempt in front of anyone, but also suffers severely from his own heavy loads of stress that having some comfort while working is better than none

Mammon

Mammon definitely smokes weed. The poor demon allows himself to be a punching bag day in and out without a thanks, he’s also gonna need his own personal stress reliever

Unlike Lucifer, Mammon isn’t addicted to it as he limits how often he indulges and what he’ll go through. Definitely helps take off the edge of his brothers and haters spiteful words on those especially rough days

Some days are too much and he’ll self harm himself, he’s a masochist, he’ll reason to no one in particular. He’s never let it slip to the others because he’s not too fond of dredging up bad memories of him and Michael before he went to Lucifer. He, again, doesn’t indulge very often and usually takes place after smoking weed if it doesn’t stop the absolute mind numbing pain that attacks him almost daily

Gets high with Satan and Belphie when he caught them with a ridiculously large amount of weed and helps them cover up their tracks in exchange of dipping into the weed stash with consent of course. Still occasionally gets high with one or both of them, Satan more often as his little brother is an anxious smoker

Leviathan

Despite downplaying himself, Levi is incredibly strong. He works as the Admiral Captain for the Devildom’s Navy scene, he’s dealing with waves not many come back from. Worst that came of it is that he was soaking wet with a few bruises here and there after an excursion from a tropical storm on a sea voyage home. The ship he was on was the only one to return from the trip relatively unharmed despite starting with 5 sea vessels…

He doesn’t realize it yet, but he totally is able to control water similar to waterbenders, but it’s more of mental image of it and the water following that image guideline. He definitely could fly in the sense he uses water bending techniques in the air to propel himself any direction he gets

Has a heat lamp he’ll lay under when the weather is suboptimal for sea demons, he has a hard time regulating his own temperature. Though he is prone to inadvertently sunburning or catching himself on fire due to him passing out comfortably, so more often than not Beel will watch him in favor of snack bribes from Lucifer and Levi putting on one of Beel’s favorite TV shows in Levi’s room with the promise of cleaning up after himself

Levi has been considering getting some piercings or a couple of tattoos in honor of his favorite animes, but he’s too terrified of the pain and the people he’d have to deal with. More so the people, can’t stand normies. Also, hasn’t told anyone about these ideas because he’s not quite sure how to put it into words when Asmo and Mammon talk about more suggestive piercings at the dinner table the one time Lucifer was staying at the castle for the weekend…

Satan

As stated before, Satan also smokes weed, but he prefers to do it in the company of someone he trusts. Specifically Belphie or the rare occasion Mammon. He gets far too anxious by himself and he worries that Lucifer will come in at any moment when he is high

Satan, despite being very academically gifted, does actually participate in sports. More specifically, the demon version of cross country. No one really knows about this since it’s not as highly celebrated as Fangol, but his team is very much supportive regardless and gets to go to many cat cafes as after their demonic cross country meets. This is how he keeps in shape during the shenanigans his family gets into when he is unable to exercise on his own time

This demon has said a word or two of influence to humans before teleportation out of the Devildom was forbidden that may have resulted to the nation wide phenomenon of cat cafes in Japan and other parts of the world are starting to catch onto this popular trend with other varieties than just cats. No one knows but himself, which he is very proud of himself which manages to baffle Lucifer once in a blue moon when he feels his little brothers random swells of pride

Has considered starting a professional writing career, but I think he’s stuck on the idea that he has to choose a singular group to focus his stories on instead of writing for all groups with different styles. Let him figure it out, he’s going to realize at some point when his brothers are fighting over a similar topic and that’s when he’ll get started on it. It’ll probably turn into a giant project he’ll love so much

Asmodeus

Has been the victim of rape only once before. Asmo was just completely shocked and out of it for weeks when it happened to him and it took him awhile to process it. The only ones who knew initially was Lucifer, Solomon, and Barbatos. Simple enough to say, they took care of Asmo and the moron who thought it was a good idea to mess with the government of the Devildom. Asmo eventually told his other brothers everything which turned into a massive movie night sleepover in a common room while in a new group chat without Asmo dug around for details to see if they could still get involved with dealing out the deck of cards the idiot who touch Asmo would have to work with. Luckily, Barbatos figured this would happen and left the moron alive for the rest of the brothers to take a shot at

Definitely a supporter of the LGBTQ community, doesn’t need to say much after the hashtag “Princess Asmo” made scenes everywhere with Asmo all done up in a princess dress for a photo shoot for Majolish with a spoiler picture on Devilgram with him saying in the description, “Not all princesses start off as princesses,” with the hashtags supporting the LGBTQ community. This was also mistaken as an engagement announcement to Diavolo due to him also being in the photo spoiler in similar regalia. There was a post about it by the RAD newspaper and and RAD newsletter online explaining by the official sources (aka Lucifer and Barbatos) that it was not the case, just Diavolo wanting to experience the hardships of how much work the fashion industry puts into their work. The full reveal of the photo shoot showed it was not just a royal version as they showed off many different styles of clothing

More often than not, Asmo often gets hired as a interior decorator, exterior decorator, or the rare occasion both as he is famous for working with themes and turning them into fabulous fashionable places. Pictures, rumors have it, do it no justice. And they’re always right

At one point, Asmo did think about getting a long term pet. But he couldn’t choose which one he wanted to be associated with for the rest of their lifespan, so he’s still trying to weigh out pros and cons and to see which one Lucifer would allow him to keep

Beelzebub

Has a severe case of a eating disorder due to immense amounts of guilt he feels almost constantly. I see him more as a bulimic kind of a guy, he can not not eat, but he also feels like he doesn’t deserve it. Only Belphie has picked up on this and more often than not trying to stop Beel from harming himself. It hasn’t gotten to the point where he needs to make Beel or the others aware of his condition, but is definitely a stressor for the twins for different reasons at the moment

Doesn’t really get it, but he records his workout sessions and posts it to Deviltube. He had to get pointers from Asmo and has gotten help with editing by Levi and usually has Belphie record them if they’re together, which is usually the case. Surprisingly (yet unsurprisingly), to Beel, his Deviltube has gained lots of attraction due to what many call “insane workouts”

Usually has lollipops in his mouth while he’s working if he can’t get a full snack in before homework time, but that’s assuming he doesn’t just straight up chomp them away or his saliva isn’t so potent that it basically dissolves in his mouth within about a minute. His favorite brand at the moment come from Madam Screams, known to make real screamers for the mouth-bursting flavor as time passes

Is very much a local and very popular food critic, but more often than not, Lucifer, Satan, and Belphie have to translate Beel speak for the rest of the population in the food industry so they don’t accidentally make an entire business die just because Beel said it was good as his only response

Belphegor

Definitely has self harming tendencies, but refrains from actually doing something on purpose due to his twin connections. He’s not too keen on the idea to how he could explain to Beel why he could feel Belphie actively harming himself

As stated before, Belphie smokes weed. Not only as a stress reliever, it also allows himself to really think to himself about issues he was just sleeping away. He’s definitely a quiet smoker, not as talkative which can occasionally freak Satan out if they’re smoking together. Other than the rare occasion of Mammon joining in for a few hits here and there, he usually prefers to smoke by himself

Unlike Mammon and Satan, Belphie is very much addicted to weed. Once he starts, he can’t get himself to stop until it’s all gone. In an attempt to regulate himself, he lets Mammon and Satan keep track where the supplies are and always asks them to set an amount for him. They unknowingly keep Belphie from overdoing it and frequently, which is nice when you don’t have enough self control yourself to manage it. However, withdrawal symptoms kick his ass hard and ends up sleeping a lot more to recover

Absolutely is an assassin. Only Barbatos knows as Belphie is often given missions from him to complete which help regulate the pathetic crime rings that still exist in the Devildom. His alias is known and feared as the Nightmare Crusher, often leaving an example of demons who thought they were above the government in grotesque fashion. None of his brothers are any wiser than what Barbatos tells them or bothered to put it together

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That’s it! Hope you liked what I’ve tried to come up as what I thought was near original!

~Fox

[taetaespeaches]

“Wait, what did you just ask me?”

taehyung x reader (oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.2K

a/n: Hi lovelies!!! Remember, we are not going to talk about how self-indulgent this is, ok? Ok. Tae and Peaches y’all... they’re my babies, what can I say? I hope you all enjoy, and thanks so much for reading! :)) 

As you studied the brushstrokes you had placed upon the canvas, Taehyung was lying on the floor in front of you, wearing a smile, his eyes on you. Sitting cross-legged a couple feet away from him, you looked overtop the painting, sneaking a glance at the man. Your lips curved up as you caught him staring, your gaze quickly returning to the work in progress.

“How is it looking?” He asked you, his voice low, coated in affection as he expressed his fond curiosity.

Cocking your head to the side, you scrunched your nose in disapproval. “You’re prettier in real life,” you smiled, Taehyung ducking his head as his grin widened. Licking his lips, appearing shy, he looked back to you. Sitting back, resting on your hands as your arms supported you, you watched Taehyung carefully. “I’m not sure I’ll ever properly capture your beauty, Dearest.”

“Let me see,” he told you gently, propping himself up on his elbow, resting his cheek on his palm. Giving him a skeptical look, he chuckled lowly. “What’s that look?”

Without answering him, you turned the easel around so he could see the painting. As he stared at your work, you watched him closely, noticing how the smile slowly morphed into a considerate inspection, his face relaxing as his gentle eyes scanned the strokes and colors. When his adoring gaze returned to you, you grinned, Taehyung simply staring at you for a moment, his orbs somehow intense and gentle all at once.

“It’s the most beautiful one yet,” he finally spoke, you sighing as he smiled knowingly.

“You say that every time,” you whined, “that’s why I was hesitant to show you.”

“What’s wrong with saying that? It’s the truth,” he defended through his amused smile.

“You’re just in love with me and everything I do,” you complained mockingly, Taehyung moving his arm out from under his head so he could drop his head to the floor in laughter.

“Of course I am,” he confirmed dramatically before rolling onto his back and turning his head toward you to catch you smiling fondly at him. “But you really do get better with every painting,” he continued. “Every new piece you do is my new favorite.”

Leaning forward, you placed your slightly paint covered hand on the floor of his art studio and slid it toward him, Taehyung quickly bringing his hand forward to clasp overtop yours. “Thank you,” you whispered shyly.

“Remember when you wouldn’t even attempt to paint because you didn’t think you could do it?” He asked you with a smile that matched yours as he intertwined your fingers. Nodding at him, he shook his head at the thought. “So silly. Now look at you,” he nodded to your freshly painted portrait of the man you loved. “You’re incredible.”

“Well, you inspire me,” you pointed out, the man shaking his head as if he was negating your comment, his fingers toying with yours. “No, you do,” you nodded, your tone seeping with sincerity. “In so many ways.”

The both of you stared at each other for a moment before the man sat up on his knees and crawled toward you, your smile growing bigger and bigger the closer he got. Appearing in front of your face, he easily swooped in and stole a kiss, your painted hands grabbing the sides of his face to hold him there as you deepened the action.

“I’m in love with you and everything you do too,” you suddenly mumbled against his mouth, making the man chuckle. “For the record.”

“I know,” he nodded, pressing his soft lips to yours once more, giving you a sweet peck. “Do you want to go for a drive, Peaches?” He asked, you letting out a single breathy laugh.

“Are you driving?” You asked teasingly, Taehyung giggling as he kissed your cheek a few times quickly before nodding, his fluffy hair brushing against your face. “Sure,” you added simply.

Taehyung drove you out of the city to one of his secret spots, the drive relatively quiet as you both simply enjoyed the presence of one another, you turning on old playlists as you relived the memories the songs evoked. There was little traffic at 11 pm on a Thursday night, only a few headlights shining into the car and illuminating your boyfriend’s face every now and then.

During the drive, you admired the way his fingers tapped against the steering wheel to the beat of the music as he lowly sang the songs. Resting your hand on his shoulder, you occasionally toyed with the strands of hair that hung against his neck, tickling his skin and making the man squirm and giggle boyishly.

When he pulled off the road and parked the car, he turned to face you, meeting your smirk. “Wanna get out?” He asked, you nodding as you undid your seatbelt. The man was always prepared for a spontaneous outing, spreading the blanket that he kept in his backseat out across the hood of the car. Within a few moments, you were cuddled up against each other on the hood as you stared up at the sky, appreciating the night time air.

“Do you have your phone?” He asked suddenly, you looking up from his chest to see his features, his eyes on you. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out the device, handing it over to him. A few seconds passed by before music started filling the atmosphere, your recognition of the song making you sit up to shoot your boyfriend a look of surprise.

“Is this the playlist?” You asked him, the man smiling fondly. The song was Make Out in My Car, giving away that he had turned on the first playlist he had ever made you since you started seeing each other romantically. The playlist he made you to confess his love for you in the diner you were well acquainted with. “You’re so soft tonight,” you giggled, Taehyung wrapping his arm around you to pull you back down against his frame.

Burying your face in his neck, you kissed his skin softly, the man swallowing as if he was nervous, his adam’s apple bobbing against your lips. However, your own growing nerves made it difficult for you to pay as much attention to his apparent edginess as you normally would.

Because for a few weeks, you had been thinking a lot about your relationship with Taehyung, and your future with the man. There was no doubt between the both of you, and really anyone who came into contact with you both, that you two were devoted to each other. Spending your lives together had been the hope and intention for as long as you’d known the man. Though the terms of the relationship had changed throughout the years, your commitment to each other as friends, and eventually as lovers, was always there.  

And although you never gave marriage much consideration, never really concerning yourself with the tradition and idea behind it, Tae had always wanted marriage for as long as you’d known him. And you wanted to commit yourself to your love for him, the love that existed between the two of you, in the sincerest way you could think of. You didn’t start the night with the intention of asking him the question, but it felt right in the moment. It was time.

Mustering up your courage as Bruno Major’s Easily played into the atmosphere, you kissed his neck one more time before letting out a slow exhale. “Hey, Tae?” You called for his attention quietly, the man tucking his chin into his neck to look down at you. Humming in response to you, you pulled away from him just slightly so you could look at him properly. “I want to preface this by assuring you that I’m not asking you this just for you, but because I’ve been thinking a lot and, I realized I want this too. With you,” you slightly rambled, the man chuckling nervously as he stared at you in confusion.

“What are you on about, Peaches?” He asked, his eyes searching your face, bouncing from feature to feature, as if he studied you enough, he would figure it out for himself.

“Ok, I can see your nervous, and you shouldn’t be,” you smiled, a small chuckle slipping from your lips.

“But you look nervous,” he giggled, his hand finding your waist as he gave you a comforting squeeze. “That makes me nervous.”

“I don’t know how to do this, I’ve been thinking about it for like a month now and I just realized I have no idea what to say,” you mostly spoke to yourself as Taehyung watching you curiously, appearing intrigued and enamored by your vocal thought process.

“Just say it then,” he told you, trying to calm you.

“Just say it?” You repeated, the man nodding. “I feel like it needs some flare though, like-”

“Peaches,” he said slightly sternly as his anxiousness grew, though he wore a small smile. “Just say it, baby.”

“Will you marry me?” You blurted out, his face completely unaffected as you stared at him with wide frightened eyes. “I mean-”

“Wait, what did you just ask me?” He suddenly realized, his eyes popping wide open as he sat up a bit.

“Uh,” you held back a laugh as you watched his features display the way his mind slowly comprehended the words that just entered his ears. “Will you marry me?” You asked again, this time more collected. “I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone, and I still don’t totally understand marriage and like what the point of it is but I know I want to be married to you,” you explained to him, your gaze set on his as he stared at you, nearly unblinking.

“You do?” He questioned, shocked by your sudden confession though his boxy smile finally beamed at you as a shy giggle slipped from his lips.

“I do,” you assured him fondly. “Because it’s you. It just feels right.”

Without another word, your boyfriend was sliding off the hood of the car, leaving you behind as he swung the driver side car door open.

“Tae?” You called out to him, your mind full of confusion, but also amusement. “Tae! What the hell are you doing?” You watched through the windshield as he lunged across the console and flung the glove box open. “You know, if you want to say no, you can just say no,” you joked. “You don’t have to make a break for it while I’m still on the hood of the car,” you giggled teasingly, though your nerves were definitely rising by the second, not because you actually thought he’d say no but rather simply the element of the unknown.  

Tossing the manual onto the seat, he grabbed something and within another moment, he was back outside, holding his hands out in front of him towards you. Your gaze bounced around his face for a moment before your orbs traveled to the item he held between his fingers.

“What the fuck is that?” You asked in shock, your eyes set on the open ring box displaying the most stunning ring you’d ever seen. “Holy shit, Tae.”

“I’ve had this for a few months,” he admitted, your eyes immediately flickering to his face in surprise. “I didn’t want you to marry me just because I want it,” he explained with a small smile. “I wanted you to want it too and so, I just never asked,” he shrugged as you covered your mouth with your hands. “I know we’re spending our lives together with or without this ring or a document.”

“Kim Taehyung,” you muttered into your hands with a small laugh.

“I never expected you to propose to me though,” he chuckled fondly.

“Well I did,” you pointed out, the man nodding as he dropped his head to the side in laughter.

“You did,” he agreed just as you began sliding across the hood toward him. When you reached him, you swung your legs off the edge, opening them so Taehyung could slot himself between them. Leaned toward you, he pushed his forehead against yours as he sighed in content, his breath fanning across your lips.

“You never answered my proposal,” you teased him, Taehyung scoffing in your face as his free hand settled on your cheek. Pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, you scrunched it in response.

“Was the ring not a good enough answer?” He questioned jokingly, you humming in thought.

“Maybe you want your own ring,” you pondered with a smirk, Taehyung’s boxy grin growing as he shook his fringe in your face slightly to tickle you.

“Yes, I will marry you,” he assured you, making you giggle just as he kissed your lips softly. “That is, if you’ll marry me,” he added, mumbling against your mouth.

“I will marry you,” you told him easily, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as you deepened the kiss, the playlist still humming in the background.

As you both got caught up in each other, as you always did, the ring box ended up closed and discarded on the hood of the car, the token of his love and your commitment not making it to your finger until a bit later that night. After all, you weren’t in it for a ring, or a label, or a document. It was him. It always had been Taehyung. And it would be him forever.

[beskarhearts]

Three Times (Din Djarin x reader)

Connection series Pt. 10

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings: cursing, sexual tension (I think that’s it but let me know if I missed any)

Word count: just over 9.0 K

Summary: It’s now been three times that Din Djarin has almost kissed you and you are going insane.

Notes: I did not plan on this coming out any time soon but I’ve spent all day ignoring my responsibilities and writing this. And I am too excited to wait so surprise shawty! Please please please tell me what you all think!

Previous Part ____ Next Part

_______________________________________________

Being back with Din and the child was the biggest relief, especially now that there were no secrets.

For the first time in a long time, you felt good. Like truly good. You had accepted what you were and made a compromise: you didn’t have the proper training to be a Jedi, nor did you know if you were ready for that, but if you needed to use the Force to protect your family, you could be okay with that. Din had reasoned it was no different than him using his armor, which you supposed in some way was technically true. 

You also felt more at peace than you had since your family passed away. Being able to properly say goodbye to your family on Jakku, and able to share fond memories with Din, had been exactly what your soul needed. You had also realized when you were there that you could feel that your family was always with you. They were part of the Force now, meaning they were always there. So every-time you felt joy, you no longer felt guilt nagging at you because they were there with you, seeing it.

Now you were with your family and you don’t think you’d ever been quite so happy. You and Din left Jakku and things were back to normal. But it was even better because now there was no wall up between you and the Mandalorian. He accepted who you were and you accepted who he was. 

It had been a few days since you were reunited with Din and everything was perfect. Well, almost perfect.

There seemed to be only one problem: Din Djarin was driving you crazy. 

When it first happened, you thought maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe making up false fantasies in your head and projecting them onto Din. All just a figment of your imagination.

Then it happened again.

And again.

And you were completely sure that you were not nuts or looking into anything. It couldn’t be a coincidence when it happened three damn times within the span of a few days. It had to be purposeful. Din wasn’t accidentally doing this. And now, you felt like you were constantly on the edge of your seat, waiting for some big climax that wasn’t happening, for reasons unbeknownst to you.

So you were left with one question.

Why the hell had Din Djarin almost kissed you three times but never actually done it?

___________________

The First Time

Din and you now had a new routine. Every night at dinner, you’d feed the child first and then get him to hang out in his hover pram afterwards, keeping him occupied with a toy until he drifted into a small nap. Then Din would come down to the hull and you’d sit together on the floor of it. Din would insist you eat first so you’d do so. Once you were done, the kid would usually be asleep and you’d close the lid to his pram before Din handed you the scarf he always had wrapped around his neck. You’d take a seat across from him, wrap the fabric around your eyes, and then he’d eat.

It had been a long time since you’ve shared a meal with someone regularly. And you would guess that Din probably had never done so, or at least not on a regular basis. And sure, it wasn’t normal and the helmet made it more complicated, but it was the closest to normal you could get. So you were fine with it. Loved it even. It was one of your favorite parts of the day. Din now got to enjoy at least one meal a day, eating it normally rather than hiding away to do so and scarfing it down as quickly as possible. In return for wearing the blindfold, you got to the hear his voice which you still swore was one of your favorite noises in the world. Sometimes he wouldn’t even be talking but you could hear his breathing, a small hum leave his lips, or something small like that and it felt like a gift.

Tonight was no different. The child was in his pram, your blindfold was on, and Din was eating away at the portions you had. Not the most amazing meal, but it made it better being with him. You sat with your back against the wall, Din next to you eating. His thighs were touching yours, shoulders crammed together, but he didn’t move and you didn’t mind the contact so nor did you.

“You smell nice.”

You felt your eyebrows quirk up at the random compliment. You two had been relatively quite tonight, just enjoying each other’s presence. This was the first thing he had said in a while and you couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips. “What?”

“Sorry.” You heard the sheepish edge to his tone and you blindly reached a hand out, patting his knee reassuringly.

“Oh no, please continue.” You said with a smile and heard a huff.

“You are teasing me.”

You paused and suddenly felt a little rude. He was being nice. That was a good compliment. I mean, you never really took much interest in your own scent but you had noticed how Din smelled. It was earthy and warm and dusted in cinnamon. “You smell nice, too.”

You heard Din snort at that. “Okay.” He sarcastically said and you let out a scoff.

“I’m not just saying that! You do. You smell nice. Like cinnamon and wood and manly stuff.”

“Manly stuff?” You felt yourself flush as he repeated your own words but you just nodded your head, hopefully aiming yourself towards his face.

“Yeah. But good manly stuff.”

“Hmmm.” You heard Din hum. “You smell clean.”

“Thank... you?”

“It’s nice. Like fresh laundry.” You heard him take a bite before continuing, “And honey.”

You smiled warmly at his description. You don’t know if you ever realized that but it warmed your heart to hear Din say it, in some weird way. “Well thank you.”

Din was quiet for a while but you didn’t hear him take anymore bites. It was just complete silence and if it weren’t for his body pressed against your side, you would of been convinced he wasn’t there. You went to say something until you heard him speak. “You look nice too.”

A warm feeling filled in your chest at the words. The compliment was so inherently Din: short and to the point with a bit of that endearing awkwardness that he had sometimes from lack of experience with others. You knew you were smiling stupidly and your face felt flushed, though you hoped it was covered enough by the blindfold for Din to not notice. You brought your hands together, your fingers twirling together as you awkwardly chuckled. You didn’t know what to say so you just settled on a small, “Thank you.”

“You have a nice smile. It’s big and bright, like you.” You were about to say something but he continued on before you had the chance. “And I like the way your hair feels. It’s soft.”

You were feeling yourself get more and more flustered as he continued. You weren’t used to a lot of compliments. You remembered the first time Din had called you beautiful but that was when he saw your scars for the first time, and you assumed it was partly said to be nice. But now hearing Din express this made you shift in the spot you sat in. “Din-“

“And whenever you concentrate on something or think about something, you bite your bottom lip. By the time you finish something that is kicking your ass, your lip is all red.”

You had never even realized you had done that. It seemed like such a small thing no one would notice about a person. But of course Din noticed. He seemed to notice everything. “Din, you can-“

“Your lips.” You froze at the two words, waiting for him to continue but he paused. You turned your head in his direction and he was close enough that you could feel his breath on your face. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt him brush some fingers against your chin, angling your face up more. “They look sweet.”

Holy shit, you could not handle this. You felt your hands begin to shake slightly as you waited for anything. For more sweet nothings to drip off his lips like honey, for his calloused fingers to brush against the angle of your chin, for his breath to get closer and closer. Anything to satisfy the desperate ache you felt in your chest. As the silence you dumbly let out a small, “So do you.” Your brain didn’t even process what you were saying and you felt yourself cringe at the stupidity leaving your lips.

“You’ve never seen me.”

You felt yourself bite down slowly on your bottom lip, now aware of the habit of yours. “Uh, it’s an educated guess.”

You heard a chuckle come from him, the sound sending waves through your body. A hand finally met your face, wrapping around your chin lightly as it was angled just a little bit higher. If he just leaned forward, just the tiniest bit, he’d probably be kissing you. He was already so close. Just one more movement. Maybe you could even close the distance, though you weren’t sure if you were brave enough and didn’t want to do something stupid since you were blindfolded.

You felt Din shuffle, moving slightly until your heard a small clang and his hand yank away quickly. “Dank farrik.” He hissed and you felt your whole body sag as he moved away.

“W-what happened?” You felt numb still and were barely able to mutter out the words.

“I just spilled something. I’ve got to clean it.”

That was when you heard the soft yelling from the pram where the child slept. It was muffled since it was closed, but it was distinct. “You put your helmet on and get the kid. I’ll clean the mess.”

“But-“ Din cut short before letting out a grunt. “Okay.”

It was only a matter of seconds before he gently was pulling the scarf off your face. You blinked a couple times as your vision adjusted, looking at him as his helmet looked down at you. You could feel how warm your face was still, how your hands still trembled just oh so slightly. You gave him a soft smile before nodding at him.

He rose up from where he was hunched down, bringing his body up as he walked over to where the pram was. Opening the lid, the child immediately stuck his pouty little face out. You almost could laugh at the pathetic expression on his face if it weren’t for the way you still felt like your mind was racing.

You were pretty sure that Din was going to do it. Was going to kiss you. You could curse the galaxy for intervening. What if that was a one-time thing? What if he never tried again?

You brushed your hair behind your ear, leaning forward to clean the mess while your mind raced with thoughts of Dins fingers on your chin and a pair of lips you’ve never even seen landing on yours.

___________________

The Second Time 

It was the next night and things were going very smoothly. You and Din had dinner as usual. The kid fell asleep without a problem, which was a blessing because he had been going through a rough patch where he screamed for hours until he eventually wore himself out enough that he just passed out.  You had gotten a shower in before climbing into the cockpit where Din was sat as usual, waiting for you. You padded over to the passenger seat, plopping down onto it with a relaxed sigh. Din looked over at you, his helmet glancing up and down your figure before it settled onto your face.

 You liked to imagine what he looked like under it. You wondered if he was returning the small smile you gave him and if so, what did it look like? Did he have dimples? Did his eyes crinkle when he did so? You wanted to know so desperately what he looked like but you never wanted to disrespect his creed or make him think you cared about such trivial things. Because in the end, you didn’t really care what Din looked like under the helmet. No matter what he looked like, he was still your Din and that was all that really mattered. But that still didn’t quell the burning curiosity. You wanted to know what the man you respected and loved so much looked like, just so you could envision him a little clearer in your mind. 

“What are you thinking about, sweet one?” 

You looked away from his intense stare. “I just sometimes... wonder what you look like is all.” You suddenly became flustered and rushed to say something else. “But I don’t care. I’d never disrespect your creed and it doesn’t really matter what you look like. You could be the ugliest person in the galaxy and that’d be fine. Not that you are ugly. Although I don’t know. But I am sure you aren’t ugly. Probably very nice looking actually but I wouldn’t know so who really-”

“Stop.” Din let out a chuckle as you stopped talking, feeling your face heat up from your nervous blubbering. “It’s okay. It’s only natural.”

You shook your head and looked back at him, his helmet still aimed towards you. “Yeah?”

“Of course.” Din shuffled in his seat, before tearing his gaze away. His hand clutched onto a control, not even doing anything with it but just holding onto it tightly. “You can... ask questions. That isn’t against the creed.”

You felt a grin begin to grow on your face. Maker, you had always wanted to ask him questions but you never wanted to be rude or overstep your boundaries. But here was explicit permission and you felt your brain come up with so many things to ask hi,. You wanted to know everything but you just started with one. “How old are you?”

This was necessarily directly about how he looked, but you realized not so long ago that you had never asked him. He didn’t sound old and his body was in good shape. “Older than you.”

Your eyebrows quirked up at the answer. You honestly thought he probably was around your age, not much older if at all. What if this whole time you were stupidly pining for a man who was too old for you? “How much older?”

“Not too much. But enough.” He grunted and you narrowed your eyes at the nondescript answer. 

“Hmmm. Okay.” You strummed your fingers against your thigh before settling onto your next question. “Do you have hair?”

“Yes.”

“Like on your head? Or your face?”

“I have hair on my head. Sometimes on my face.” You felt yourself swoon at the idea of him with facial hair. Maybe a nice patch above his lip or maybe stubble dotting his chin. How you would love to feel his hair, even if just for a second. Run your fingers through it. Maybe feel it against your skin...

Your train of thought was broken as Din looked over at you and you clammed up, realizing you were spending an inappropriate amount of time thinking about his hair. You didn’t even know what it looked like and it was already driving you wild. “Um. Okay. Is it soft?”

Is it soft? What kind of question was that? You almost brought a hand to cover your face but you heard Din chuckle at the lame question. “Is it soft?” he repeated, in a teasing tone.

You looked away from him with a flushed face. “Oh, never mind. That was a stupid question.”

Silence filled the cockpit as Din looked away from you and back to the control panel. “Do you,” Din paused and you barely looked at him from the corner of your eye, seeing the way his body seemed to clench up. “Do you want to feel it?”

You couldn’t help the way your head whipped to face him directly, your eyes widening. Maker, you couldn’t think of anything you would rather do in this moment (besides maybe kiss him). You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak, just slowly nodding in a trance-like nature before mumbling out something along the lines of “yes please.”

Din nodded and took his hands away from the panel, settling them on his neck to tug at the fabric. “Come over here.”

You surprised yourself by how quickly you stood from your seat, despite the way your whole body felt numb at the interaction. Din stood up as well, the scarf finally in his hands as he faced you. You stood in front of him, trying to hide the excitement you were feeling but failing to do so with the glint in your eye. Din gave you a nod, which you returned, before he brought the scarf up to your eyes. It usually smelled like him, earthy and like cinnamon, but it seemed even stronger today. You didn’t know if it was because all your senses were going into hyperdrive because of what was about to happen or if he did something different, but you took what you hoped to be a subtle deep breath in as he finished tying it off. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You said clearly, waiting for the sound of his helmet being removed. The hiss and click of it filled the silence of the cockpit a matter of seconds later and you heard him place it somewhere, probably on his seat. A pair of hands reached out to grab at yours. You were surprised by them. They were Din’s hands, covered in the gloves he usually wore like normal. But you could feel the way they were shaking slightly, the way they held onto yours a little tighter in order to steady them. “Din, we don’t-”

“No, it’s fine. I just...” He trailed off and you shook your head understandingly. You wondered when the last time Din’s face had been touched, especially by a loving hand. Had it been a friend or his mother? You couldn’t imagine he hadn’t had one loving touch since his family died all those years ago but you supposed it could be possible. He had told you he never took his helmet off in front of people, until you. 

“It’s okay.” You whispered quietly, letting him guide your hands at his own pace and not rushing him. You wanted him to be comfortable and be in a safe environment. He could go at his own speed, no matter how much your fingers itched with desperation. 

Din slowly started to bring your hands up higher, going at an excruciatingly slow pace that made your chest tighten up. But this wasn’t about you. It was about Din. They could feel him trail upwards, feeling your fingers graze the cool metal of his chest plate as they moved higher and higher. Din brought them to his shoulders, still clad in armor, and he placed them there. Resting your hands against him, he brought his hands away, placing them down at his side. You heard him breathing, the steady in and out slowing down slightly and relaxing. You kept your hands where he had put them, letting your fingers just barely grip onto the metal sat upon each shoulder. You spent a few moments like this before he said, “Okay.”

You brought your hands up just slightly, waiting to see if he’d stop you but when he didn’t interrupt, you allowed yourself to slowly continue on. When your fingers finally grazed the warm skin of his neck, you heard Din suck in a breath and pulled away quickly. You were surprised as his hands quickly grasped onto yours, bringing them back to the place you had torn them away from. “Din?”

“It’s okay.” He reassured you and you nodded at him, wondering if he was looking at you. You let the tips of your fingers trail up, the warmness of his neck dancing on your flesh. You felt your hands rise up more and more before they landed on a ridge. It was his jaw and Maker, he had stubble. You sucked in your own breath, your bottom lip being sucked in between your teeth, as you allowed more of your hand to reach out. You slowly grasped onto his jaw, feeling the angular curves of it. It was strong, angled, and deep. The hair nipped at your hand but you continue bringing it cross his chin. You felt a small patch of skin amidst all the short hairs, bring a finger to rub at it lightly as a shy smile graced your face. The hair on his chin nipped at your finger lightly, almost tickling your skin, but you didn’t mind. 

Din stood completely still, the only sound he made being the steady in and out of his breathing. You continued feeling your way around his jaw when a light touch grabbed onto one of your arms. You felt his hand wrap around your wrist, the way his gloved thumb lazily draw circles into the bare skin. It was almost too much for you: how warm his skin was under your hand and the way the spot on your wrist seemed to tingle as Din touched it. You almost felt the need to say something but determined this moment was too pure for words. Nothing had to be said. You just needed to feel. 

You finally brought your hands off of Din’s chin, to which you swore you heard a small whine leave his lips that caused your face to blush a violent shade of red. Instead of bringing his hands back to your skin, he allowed you to wrap a hand to the back of his neck, feel at the small strands of hair that led up higher and higher to his hair. You lightly grasped onto the nape of his neck, to which you definitely heard him let out a small gasp and you paused your movements, not moving away but giving him a second. “Are you okay?”

“More than okay.” Din just barely whispered, so silent that you swore you wouldn’t have been able to hear it if it weren’t for how quiet it was and how your ears tried to compensate for the way you couldn’t see. You hummed back to him as your let your fingers splay out onto the skin of his neck. You slowly let your hand drift up, your fingers beginning to drive into his hair. Your other hand reached up to his face, laid out onto his cheek which you felt his physically lean into. The skin of his face was peppered with stubble and you could feel a few indents into the skin, probably from the life of fighting he has lived. His skin was rough, felt masculine and raw, but it was also so warm and soft. It made the flesh of your hand tingle, your fingers cupping his face even more. 

Your other hand moved higher before tangling into his hair. It was longer than you had expected and probably messy from his helmet and your wandering hands, but it was so soft. “Din, you are so beautiful.” You muttered.

You felt Din freeze before you, the hand still on your wrist no longer rubbing circles. You almost worried you had done something wrong until his other hand reached out to your waist, grabbing onto it and tugging you closer to him. You chest was now pressed against his, both of your faces so close to each other that you were practically sharing air. Your grip on him tightened slightly, feeling the way he let out a deep breath. “Sweet one...”

His said it so quietly but it was like a song flowing out of him. You brought his face down with your hand, bringing your forehead against his. You had done it so many times before when he had the helmet on but never was it your skin against his. “How did you know?”

You furrowed your brows at his question. “Know what?”

His breath fanned over your face. “When you press your forehead against mine... The Mandalorians do that as a form of affection.” You had never known that. It just felt like the natural thing to do with him since the helmet posed such a barrier. Just a gentle tap seemed like a reassuring way to provide comfort to him. “It’s called a Keldabe kiss.”

Your hand twisted into his hair more and his grip onto your waist became even tighter. “Oh.” you gently said, your foreheads both pressing against each other even more, you standing on the tips of your toes slightly to try to get closer. Both of your noses brushed against each others and you could almost cry because of how beautiful the moment was. How comforting and breath taking it felt to be so close to Din. 

He nuzzled his face against yours even more, his nose touching yours. His lips were so close, all he had to do was lean forward. Fuck it, all you had to do was lean forward. 

Just as your were about to lean into him, you felt the fabric of the scarf begin to slip down from behind your head. You clasped your eyes shut tight, ripping your hands away from Din and bringing them to hold the fabric back up. “Kriff.” 

Your hands shook wildly and your heart was pounding even harder in your chest than before. You heard some movement, followed by the hiss and click of the helmet being put on. But you still couldn’t bring yourself to move your hands away. You just felt your chest rapidly inhale and exhale and Din’s labored breathing fill the silence. That was so close. You could of ruined Din’s creed, his whole entire life, in just a matter of seconds. “I’m so sorry.” you let out.

Din sighed and you finally pulled the fabric down, looking over at where he stood by his chair. He was looking down at the ground rather than you and simply shook his head. “I didn’t tie it well. It’s my fault.”

“No, it’s mine. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I offered. It’s fine.” Din’s helmet tilted up towards you. “We should probably sleep.”

You nodded, feeling your flushed cheeks begin to cool and your breathing ease into normality. “Yeah.” 

___________________

The Third Time

You and Din weren’t quite so lucky the next night. 

The child was back to crying into the latest hours of the night. You usually had a pretty good read on the kid. You could detect the smallest of subtleties of each sound or face he made. You knew whether he was hungry, tired, bored, or agitated. Din had told you once that you seemed to always know what he needed and you supposed that was true. But tonight was not that kind of night.

The child had been screaming. For hours now. You and Din had tried everything. You fed him his favorites food and while it would silence him for a while, the tears would just rage on once he was done eating. You had both taken shifts, holding him and rocking him but that didn’t seem to calm him, in some cases the smothering just seemed to bother him even more. You had given him toys, given him the ball from the ship he loved, sang songs, danced for him, tried to play hide and seek. You had tried anything he had ever expressed liking before but nothing worked. The best you could get was an exasperated look from the kid, like he was judging you for your lack of success. 

Din and you were losing it. It was so late and you both were absolutely floored. You couldn’t think of one thing to stop the screaming. Until Din suggested you two just let him rage on. He had placed the kid in the pram, leaving the lid off, and sat down on the floor beside you. The kid’s screaming continued but he didn’t say anything or try to provide comfort. Din and you just let it keep going. At this point, you just hoped he would wear himself out or realize he was going to receive no attention from you two and stop his tantrum.

That didn’t stop it for hours though. At one point you had told Din you needed to do something but he made the great point that there was nothing to do. Absolutely nothing would calm the kids hostile attitude and logically, he had to fall asleep at some point. He was going off steam at this point, not having slept since the night before and using so much energy being a complete womp rat. He needed to pass out eventually from pure exhaustion. 

You and Din both sat on the floor, eyes hooded and bodies limp. You two were drained, not even bothering to try to speak over the hysterics, and your minds were like blank slates. You didn’t think or move. Just zoned out completely.

Zoned out so much that you drowned out the yells being emitted from the child until you were torn away from it. Wait a second. You lifted your head from where it was limply laying against the wall, bringing yourself to stand up slowly. You looked over at the pram and sure enough, the crying had stopped. The child was laid back, arms splayed out, having finally worn himself out enough to sleep. His small body rose and fell, eyes fluttering slightly as he made small, sleepy noises. If the kid hadn’t acted like such a demon for hours now, you would of thought the scene was so endearing, the maternal part of you flooding with happiness at the little child so soundly and peacefully asleep. But instead you just felt relief and utter joy, sleep-deprived joy, but joy nonetheless. 

“Holy shit.” You whispered out, looking over at Din.

Din still sat against the floor, his helmet leaning forward so the bottom of it leaned against his chest, no longer wearing his armor but his usual pajamas. He had tried to sleep earlier since you claimed you had it under control, but he had shortly realized you certainly did not have it under control, nor would he be able to hear with all the noise. He didn’t even bother to move at the sound of your voice, just grunting and letting out a exhausted “What?”

“Shhh.” Din finally looked up as your hissed and raised his head, looking into the pram floating a few feet from him. You couldn’t see him but you could see his shoulders perk up as he realized the child had finally fallen asleep. “I can’t believe he is asleep.”

Din slowly rose from his spot on the floor, not wanting to make any unnecessary noises that could wake him up. He carefully stepped towards the pram, stopping right behind you. You felt his hand grab at your wrist, slowly pulling you away gently from where the pram was. “C’mon.” His whispered as quietly as he could with the helmet on, his voice deep and sleepy through the modulator. 

You turned around, away from the child, and let Din lead you, letting your body limply follow him to the entrance of his cot. He gestured his head for your to enter and you didn’t even bother to argue, crawling in. You let your body fall into the padding of it. His bed wasn’t too comfortable but it was better than the sleep-away one you normally used. It also smelled like Din and one of the blankets you two had gotten from the marketplace was laid out on it. You brought the fabric around your waist, letting the warmth of it sink into you. You didn’t look up but felt Din shuffle into the small cot behind you. The two of you in the same cot was a bit silly, since it was so small and you two had to be so close to each other, but you didn’t mind. Shortly after he crawled in, the door to it shut, blocking out all the light as you heard the hiss of his helmet being removed. You smiled as you snuggled into the bed more, whispering “I can’t believe the womp rat fell asleep.”

Din let out a quiet chuckle as he placed his helmet down, bringing himself down onto the bed, laying on his side with his chest pressed against your shoulder. You began to move, trying to shuffle a little bit away as to give Din more room to relax, but instead you scooted back rather ungracefully, your head slapping into the metal that encapsulated the bed. The noise was loud enough that you and Din both sucked in a breath, waiting for the kids screaming from earlier to resume. You waited a few moments and were pleasantly surprised when you were met with silence. “Be quiet, cyar’ika.” Din quietly scolded.

“Sorry. I didn’t try to slam my head into the wall.” You sarcastically responded and both of you let out a small laugh at the response. You couldn’t see a thing, but felt a shift, his body suddenly dragging over yours. He hovered over you, his body weight being held up by his forearms which rested on each side of you.  You felt his warm breath fan over your face and smiled as you felt the lower half of his body press slightly into yours. One of his hands reached out to touch your head.

“You okay?” His fingers rubbed at your scalp slightly, a gentle movement that made you let out a hum. You would usually find yourself nervous with Din this close to you but you were too tired and too happy to find it in yourself. Instead you just lazily smiled as you felt him rub the spot where you had hit your head. It hadn’t hurt much, but his touch was so relaxing, easing away any discomfort that may have been.  You just felt at home, like this was the right place for you to be in. You found yourself thanking the Maker as you leaned into his touch, so grateful he had come back for you. You don’t know how you could of ever lived without this.

Din’s head suddenly brushed back the side of your face and you felt a strand of hair tickle at your face. You didn’t even think when you brought a hand up, tangling your fingers into his hairs like his were in yours, rubbing slowly into it like you had done the night before. You heard Din let out a small noise at the contact, his face moving down closer to the side of your head. His lips just grazed the shell of your ear, whispering “You are so sweet.” 

Your breath hitched a little at the feeling of him whispering in your ear, his voice completely overtaking you. His head moved a little and you gasp when his cheek grazed yours. The stubble your fingers had touched just the night before now grazed your cheek ever so slightly, enough that it didn’t burn but just seemed to tickle in the most pleasant way. “Din...”

You didn’t have anything to really say but you just wanted to feel his name on your lips and his skin touch yours. One of his hands landed on your hip and you whimpered at the contact. “You are beautiful, y’know?”

His voice was so deep and enveloped all your senses. You could still hear the weariness in it, but there was something else. Affection. You let yourself smile, bring your other hand to Din’s arm, grasping lightly onto his bicep and feeling the curve of his muscle. He wasn’t overwhelmingly muscular, but strong enough that you could feel it. Strong enough to make you feel safe in his arms.  “Y-yeah?” 

Speaking felt like the most difficult task. You couldn’t find it in yourself to say some snarky comment even if you wanted to. You were so tired and so overwhelmed by him. He smelled like cinnamon and bark. His touch was hot on your skin, his breath fanning over you face, cool and inviting. Every single one of your senses was just focused on Din.

“Yeah.” Din grumbled and you finally felt his lips meet your face, just barely grazing your forehead but enough for you to feel it. His lips were so soft, a welcome sensation. His hand on your hip lifted a second before you felt your clothes shift a little and then his hand was back  in the same place, but bare skin underneath his fingers. You tried to hold back a whimper at the sensation, feeling weak at his touch. His thumb rubbed circles into the flesh and you didn’t dare move, not wanting him to stop. His other hand was still tangled in your hair, rubbing at your scalp with such tenderness. 

You continued running your hands through his hair when you felt his nose brush against yours. You knew his lips were so close to yours and it took everything in you to not reach up and connect them. “Maker, I can’t even believe you’re real...”

You let out a sigh at his words, your other hand on his arm trailing upwards and wrapping around the back of his neck. You held him close to you as your legs tangled together, like you were becoming one being. 

You felt him let out a big breath. You were slightly disappointed when his face drifted away, wanting him to kiss you so desperately you thought you would die if he didn’t. But instead you let out a gasp when you felt his lips press against the edge of your chin. Din’s other hand retreated from your hand, reaching down for the other side of your hip, both hands planted on you. His body weight shifted, his chest now pressing against yours more. The feeling of his lips on your skin was warm and short but it absolutely clouded your mind. You wanted more. No, needed more.

Dins lips once again pressed against you, this time a little lower and you tilted your neck up, giving him more room. “Din?”

“Yes, sweet one?” He whispered the words against your skin, causing shivers to run down your spine.

“Please.”

“What?”

“Just k-” That’s when the wailing began and you couldn’t help but to let out a small, “shit.”

Din suddenly lifted himself off you and you nearly whined at the loss of contact. You were so close to just telling him to kiss you. And he had felt so nice and of course, the child had to interrupt it. You heard Din clear his throat before he reached over, grabbing his helmet which was attached once again with a click. “I’ll go take care of it.”

The door to his bed opened and he slid off the cot, giving you one more glance over before he turned around to take care of the kid. You groaned quietly as you brought a hand to your face. 

Your other hand reached for your neck, feeling how warm the flesh was where he had kissed it. You were loosing your mind. This was now the third time, where you had been so close to almost kissing him. And you swore you were on the verge of just telling him to get it over with.

But tonight wasn’t the night. Instead, you’d just try to sleep and hope tomorrow the child would be less of a gremlin.

___________________

You looked at the child who sat in his pram, dreary eyes looking up at you as he let out a yawn. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, arms crossed over your chest as you studied him. Last night he had finally fallen asleep, but only with Din holding him so Din had spent the night away from you, laying on the cot you had normally slept on with the child. Now the whole day the kid had been suspiciously well behaved. And now that it was night, and a reasonable time, he was sleepy. You supposed it was logically because of how little sleep he had gotten last night, but you still felt suspicious at the way he blinked up at you slowly, eyes drawing to a close before fluttering open. 

“Listen, kid.” The child looked up at you sleepily, a small smile growing as he looked up at you. “You need to behave tonight. And sleep. Because I need your dad to finally just kiss me and you’ve interrupted two times now.”

The child’s expression didn’t change but he let a sleepy giggle out to which you frowned. “If you are good, I will let you eat my serving of chowder tomorrow, okay?”

The child’s ears perked up slightly at the mention of chowder and he laid back against the blanket in his pram, his eyes drifting closed. “Womp rat, good night.” You closed the lid to his pram, beginning to walk towards the ladder of the Crest when you bumped into Din behind you. Your hand flew to your chest, feeling yourself jump as you realized he was there. “Maker, how long were you there?”

You asked the question without much thought until you felt your face bloom red when you realized what you had just told the child. Because I need your dad to finally just kiss me. You looked up to Din’s helmet which was tilted down at you and felt your eyes widen just the smallest bit. Oh, Maker, please don’t say he heard it.

“Just came down. Heard you offer your chowder to the kid.”

You felt relief wash over you as you let out an awkward chuckle. “Hah, yeah. Anything to not have a repeat of last night.”

You slowly drifted away from the pram, towards the center of the hull of the ship. Din followed you, his boots tapping against the floor but it didn’t seem to disturb the child. You waited for Din to say something but he just stared back at you, arms crossed over his chest. You uncomfortably smiled at him, feeling uneasy with the way he was looking at you. “You are probably exhausted. We should go to sleep.” You said, hoping he would stop looking at you but to no avail.

“Last couple days with the kid has been rough.” He finally said and you nodded empathically. Rough was an understatement. You weren’t sure if it was a growth spurt, or perhaps instead of his terrible twos it was his frightening fifties. But either way, it had been a hard time. 

“Yeah. Definitely not great.” You said. You copied his own stance, crossing your own arms over your chest and looking over at him.

“And very inconvenient.” He responded.

You froze in your spot, looking at him. Very inconvenient indeed. Especially for things like kissing. “Yup.”

“I don’t think I am going to be able to sleep.” 

You couldn’t imagine how. Din had been up for as long as you had, having slept on your crappy cot last night instead of his bed. It was impossible that he wasn’t worn out. “Why?”

“I need to do something.”

You huffed. Din was always one to keep busy, always having something to do whether it was cleaning his weapons or doing something with the Crest. But he needed to finally just relax. Both of you did. “I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

You finally moved, plopping down on your cot in the corner of the hull. Din just stepped towards you more, arms still held over his chest. “It’s waited long enough.”

“Oh really, what super important Mando stuff do you have to do now?” You sarcastically responded, beginning to pull away at the laces of the boots you wore. Your body was so sore and your mind was running at about half of what it usually was. You looked up at Din and frowned when he just stood over you, not saying anything. “Din, what are you doing?”

Din sighed and muttered out, “Sweet one.”

That was when you felt it. The tension in the room. It had been there for days now, ever since Din had almost kissed you during dinner than one night. It consumed every single thought you had, clouded over every conversation you had with Din. Made every touch even more electrical than usual. Every casual turn of his helmet made your chest clench. Every time you looked at him he got a little more rigid than usual. You both were waiting for the damn to break and for the tension to wash away. And hell, you both were trying your best but failing with every attempt.

You slowly rose up from your seat on the cot, standing in front of Din who was so close to you that your ankles were pressed against the padding of your bed. “W-what is it you have to do?”

Din tilted his helmet at you and you felt your face turn a shade of deep crimson. You were pretty sure you knew the answer. At least you hoped to the Maker it was or this would be a very interesting situation. Din brought his hands up, beginning to take off each glove and you gulped. “Din...”

“Take off my scarf.”

You nodded slowly, taking a minute to process before reaching your hands up to his neck. You pulled the fabric slowly, letting it flow off him softly as it slipped from his neck to your fingers. “Put it on.”

You nodded again, not finding it in yourself to speak. You gave him one last look before wrapping the fabric around your eyes, tying it so tightly around your head that you was bound to give you a headache. But you couldn’t risk it almost falling off again. You were damned that nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to interrupt. 

The hiss and click rang out and you felt your hands begin to shake as you heard a thud against the cot behind you, Din having tossed his helmet there. Din grabbed your hands, bare fingers gripping onto yours ever so lightly, before he placed them on his chest piece, the cool metal sending a shiver down your arms. “Din?”

“Yes?”

“Please just kiss me already.” You felt shock jolt through your body as the words slipped through your lips. Your jaw went slack at your own boldness. You waited for a response but only heard silence and begin to pull away. Oh my Maker. You had been wrong this whole time. It was all just imaginary and you were just wanting it to be real. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I’m just going to-”

“Cyar’ika.”

“That was so stupid. And embarrassing. Like woah, where did that come from?” You tried to laugh, show you were unbothered by the painful uncomfortableness of the situation, but you just let out a wheeze.

“I want to kiss you.”

You nearly choked on the air you were breathing when you heard Din speak. “Okay. Well then, no offense, but why aren’t you?” You couldn’t help but to ask the question that was plaguing your mind so often lately.  You had given him permission. Why wasn’t he just doing it? 

“Uh, well...” You heard him drift off and frowned under the blindfold. You brought your hands back up to chest, letting your fingers splay out on the broad expanse of the metal. 

“Is everything okay?”

Yes, you wanted Din to kiss you. So badly. But you also wanted him to be comfortable. And you could hear the uneasiness in his voice. It was subtle but it was there. And you never wanted him to be uncomfortable around you, even if that meant not kissing him. You felt Din let out a deep breath. “I’ve never... kissed someone before.”

You couldn’t help the way your jaw hung open just the tiniest bit, the way your body froze in shock. You probably shouldn’t be so surprised. The helmet definitely did make things like this harder: you now knew that from experience. But you couldn’t imagine Din had never kissed someone before. Maybe it was naive but you couldn’t believe no one had wanted to kiss him and that he hadn’t gone out of his way to make it happen. “Is it against the creed?” You mumbled out, trying to find some reasoning that was logical to you.

Din nervously chuckled, bringing a hand to your wrist to once again rub circles into the skin. “No, not really.”

“Not to sound rude, but how?”

“I just never found anyone that was worth it, I guess.” You paused at the explanation. You supposed that was logical. Taking off the helmet, even to just kiss someone, posed a risk. You had to trust that the person wouldn’t try to sneak a peak or didn’t have some ulterior motive to kissing you. Being a Mandalorian made even the smallest things like this hard to experience normally and you suddenly felt yourself soften. “You are worth it though.”

You couldn’t help the grin that broke out on your face, or the way you nervously but also giddily laughed. “Oh.” was all you managed to way but you trusted that Din could see your reaction and know what you were feeling.

“Just stay still, okay?” Din nervously asked.

“Okay.” You whispered. You felt his hand leave your wrist and both of them grab onto yours. He moved your hands from his chest to his neck, and you took it from there, wrapping them around the back of his neck, softly playing with the hairs there. Din let go, one hand dropping to your waist. His strong grip pulled you even closer, your bodies completely pressed together. The other hand grabbed lightly at your chin, his touch seeming to ghost over it. 

He took a moment, just holding you against him, before he brought his hand to cup your cheek. “You okay?” He whispered.

You nodded. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” You heard the waiver in his voice and begin to rub circles into the back of his neck, feeling him calm slightly. He let his head drop a little, his forehead resting against yours as he took in deep breaths. You nuzzled your face up, your noses rubbing against each others and your breath caught in your throat as his lips just barely grazed over yours. Oh Maker it was already perfect. 

“Din-”

“Shh.” You waited for the universe to mess with you. For the kid to begin screaming or for something to hit the ship. Anything to interrupt this moment but nothing happened. Silence consumed you both and all you could think about or feel or smell or hear was Din. It was all just Din.

Then his lips reached forward and you swore you couldn’t breath if you wanted to. They pressed against yours, lightly and gently at first. Just barely so but your lips molded into his, the shape of his seeming to fit yours like a key. You tighten your arms around him even more as he angled your face to deepen it, his lips moving just the tiniest bit. You felt yourself sigh in relief and his grip on your waist lightened. 

You were right. Whenever you had thought about his lips, you’d always though they’d be rough but also soft. Gentle but strong. And despite it being his first kiss, you let him take control, let him move his lips against yours. Let his hand drift from your cheek to the other side of your hip, pulling you even closer to his body. He let out a small groan as he pressed into you even more, his lips moving against yours. You reciprocated, moving with him and you both seemed to naturally slip into a rhythm that didn’t require any explanation or talking. You tightened your grip around him more, bring your feet to the tips of your toes so you could press into him more. You needed more of him. You needed it like you needed air.

Din finally tore his lips away, not moving away from you but you just huffed as his forehead rested against yours again. You hadn’t breathed once when he was kissing you and now you felt the way your heart was racing, the way your blood seemed to boil. The way your chest was warm and tight, but in the most beautifully addicting way. “Din, are you sure you’ve never done that before because-”

He interrupted you, his lips pressing into yours again which you let out a gasp to. You both pressed even tighter, not knowing how it was possible. You felt him wrap his arms around your lower back, his hands pressing you closer to him. His lips just lightly nipped at yours for a second, swallowing you completely. You felt yourself sway into it, like it was a dance. You both leaned against one another and then you felt yourself lean back-

and fall. You both felt against your cot with a bang and you couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips as the biggest grin broke out onto your face. Din was pressed on top of you, his arms lifting his body weight a little. Your blindfold was still on, but you could feel the way he was looking at you. “Sorry.” he said and you laughed even more.

“I am not complaining.” You felt him lean into you more when the kid’s yelling began, obviously awaken by the loud clattering of you two falling down. “I should get him.”

Din pressed his lips into yours again, smiling into it. He pulled away the tiniest bit. “He can wait a minute.”

Then his lips pressed against yours and you wrapped yourself around him. Around the Mandalorian who you were now devoted to. 

Tag List: @ilikethoseodds @dindaddy @poguesvixen @starspangledwidow @fangirlalexia @the-scandalorian @ka-x-in @keepcalmandblogstuff @the-lady-of-stars @orneryscandalousevil @spaghetti-666 @afootnoteinyourhappiness @the-darkempress​ @dream-alittlebiggerdarling​

[yutahoes]

Sakura

(Part Seven)

One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven

genre : Chaptered, Fluff, 

pairing : childhood friends: soccer player! Nakamoto Yuta x single mom! Y/N

word count : 3.3k words

You’ll always be his Sakura.

@ailoveyuta @loona-4-eva @aiforyuu @2-3-t-i @cosmiclatte28 @url-lindo-sexy @nuoyipeach​ @aaasteroidsky​ @thisis-myname @yutazen01​​​

Her smile that time in Osaka is still imprinted in Yuta’s mind that it haunts him even in his dreams. It was winter in their last year of their teens when Yuta begged Y/N’s mom if she could spend the holidays in Osaka with his family. Of course, his parents were also behind this and promised that they’ll take care of Y/N. And even if he’s just remembering it now, he still can’t believe that her mom actually allowed her to go to another country. 

His parents quickly greeted her when she came to the airport, asking if she had trouble during the flight but she smiled at them answering them in fluent Japanese that made him proud. She seemed so natural talking to them, even calling them okaasan and otousan like they’re one family. “Yuta!” she called excitedly, arms wide open to hug him which he accepted. His parents were just smiling at him knowingly. “Bogoshipda.” 

Who wouldn’t? The last time he saw her was the day she left for Chicago. No, the day before that. Although he and his mom sent them off, he refused to look at her that time. "I missed you too." He whispered that made her smile widely. Something changed about her. Is it because they never saw each other for years? Or because his memory of her is stuck in the last time they were together? Is it because they already grew up? Maybe it's because of Chicago.

His family had been welcoming to her and they were equally amazed that Y/N can understand and speak Japanese. Since it's just days before New Year, their house is full of people but they made her feel like she is a part of the family. "You should bring her to Osaka Castle." One of his aunts claimed that made Yuta nod. 

"Why not bring her to Universal Studios?" Another asked and Y/N just nodded, looking excited. Yuta put his phone on top of the table. "Otousan, can you drive us to Hirakata Park tomorrow?" He asked which made everyone look at him.

Y/N was so surprised seeing a Cardcaptor Sakura exhibition that she squealed in excitement at the entrance making Yuta smile. This feels like the Y/N he knows. They kept on looking at the different artworks related to the anime she liked since she was young, even staying too long at some merchandise. "Should I buy that? Sakura is really cute." 

Yuta chuckled. "You can't even eat that." That made her glare at him, pouting. But Yuta remembered that merchandise, even telling himself that he’ll save up to buy that for her birthday. 

She was really happy to eat in a café that is inspired by the same anime. She kept on taking pictures saying that she'll show them to her mom. "I knew you'll love it here." 

"Can I just live here?" 

He laughed once again. "You can ask my parents to adopt you." 

Y/N wrapped her arms on Yuta's arm that made him freeze. What's with the sudden skinship? "Shall I call you oniichan?" 

He smiled at her then frowned. "No." 

It was almost nighttime when they reached Dohtonbori. Tons of pictures were taken and she kept on running around, claiming that everything in Japan is pretty. "It's prettier when there are cherry blossoms. You should go back in spring." But honestly, he just wanted her to stay here until Spring. Or maybe for a long time. 

Should he ask his parents to adopt her? But he doesn't want him to call her imouto. 

The lights illuminating the whole area looked magical. Why does he like it more today than when he's out here with his parents? Why does the light look more lovely today? The cold breeze made him pull his oversized coat closer. Why is it so cold? Glancing at her, he realized that she may be cold as well. Does Chicago have a cold season like this? 

Knowing that she's focused on looking at those little trinkets by the store, he went to another store to buy something. Her mom will kill him if she gets sick in this weather. Besides, it's going to be busier this time of the year. "Y/N." He called that made her look at him. He put on a white scarf around her neck, wrapping it nicely on her. "My Christmas gift." 

She had to laugh at that, raising a snow globe. "And I was thinking of buying one for you." She turned her attention to the different snow globes on the shelf. "You should pick one, Yuta." 

But he never looked at the snow globes. Instead, his focus was on her. The lights illuminate her, creating a picturesque background. The white snow falling gently on her, adding to the effect. He badly wanted to imprint that image in his mind. When did she become this pretty? When she turned to him, he lightly gasped. Why did he feel hot all of a sudden? Why can he hear his heart beating on his chest? 

Y/N shook the snow globe with the Osaka castle inside then handed it to him. "I'll get you this, onii chan." It annoyed him. Why does she like using that word? 

The whole week was full of preparations for the New Year and his relatives had supplied her with the rituals they must do. She helped in making mochi with his grandmother who seemed so fond of her. Even his grandfather, who is usually a scary man, smiles a lot because of her. She really fit well in his family. But not as his sister. 

When the clock struck midnight, he realized what it was. She was playing some sparklers with his cousins, laughing along with them. Her eyes twinkling the same way they did when she was staring at those snow globes. Taeyong was right all along. He is in love with her. 

Kareshi. It's a better term than oniisan. Something that he wanted her to call him right now. "Y/N, I…" But a ringtone stopped his words, someone was calling. "It must be your mom, you should pick up." The girl nodded, handing her sparkler to Yuta before heading inside the house. 

God, what is wrong with him? Is he really going to confess to her? He must be out of his mind. Yuta just finished the stick of sparkler before heading inside to check on her. She was seated on the couch, smiling on her phone. "They are all so nice to me, eomma." She then smiled when she noticed Yuta. "We're going to the temple tomorrow with obaasan." Hatsumonde. It's a Japanese ritual that they had done since he was young and since she's here, his grandmother wanted her to experience visiting a shrine. "You want to talk to Yuta?" 

The guy just shook his head, sitting next to her, but she pushed the phone to her which he reluctantly answered. "Eommeoni, annyeong." She sounded so happy talking to him on the phone but again his focus was on the door next to him who was playing the kendama, a Japanese ball and cup toy. "Please take care of Y/N." And even if she doesn't say those words, he knows he'll take care of her. 

When she dropped the call, Yuta saw her phone wallpaper. A guy playing basketball. It looks like a photo taken. Is she dating someone? Did she mention anything about a guy in her letters? Is that why she's prettier? Is she in love?

The question was answered when they visited the shrine the next day. She is indeed prettier especially when she wore a kimono that his cousin let her borrow, little trinkets adored her hair. She looked like a native Japanese. A yome. But he shook his head. He can't be thinking of that. 

They were getting their omikuji, him and her with another set of female and male cousins that are older than the two of them. When Y/N pulled her paper strip, his female cousin shook her head. "You'll probably get pregnant this year." She claimed that startled her. "Are you dating someone?" Y/N nodded. 

"You two are already dating?" His male cousin asked, referring to her and Yuta. She shook her head saying that he's a schoolmate from Chicago. So he's really seeing the guy on her phone wallpaper. When Yuta opened his paper strip, his cousin just tapped his back. "You should have confessed earlier." But he just stared at the bad luck written on his paper. 

His second regret. Why did it take a long time for him to realize these feelings? 

It was Yuta's Summer Break when his parents gave him the airplane tickets to Chicago that surprised him. They had talked to Y/N and her mom that he's visiting. And although he doesn't want to go there, he was forced by his family. "You should at least tell her that you like her. Maybe it can change something." 

The city was different and he felt really foreign, different than when he first came to Korea. "Yuta!" Y/N called, running to where he is and quickly hugging him. What is this girl doing? In front of all these people? "I skipped class to pick you up. Why can't you hug me?" He raised an eyebrow at her. Why is she so bold? Chicago is indeed different. Yeokshi Chicago. 

He jokingly crushed her on his arms but she didn't laugh, which is odd. He felt her breathing on his neck, hot and hard. "I missed you, Yuta." It felt different. Maybe because they're in Chicago. He didn't pay that much attention to that especially when she introduced a guy named Johnny Seo. The person on her wallpaper. The guy she's dating. 

Johnny is a really nice guy. He showed him what Chicago is while waiting for her to finish her classes. He made an effort to talk to him in Korean or English, sometimes in Japanese that he heard from her. He shared stories about her, the Y/N Yuta doesn't personally know. He knew what to order for her in coffee shops, even at restaurants. He speaks to her calmly, staring at her as if she's the only person who mattered in the world. And he knew, she's in the right place with Johnny. 

It was Saturday when Johnny and Y/N brought him to The Bean. The weather was hot and there were a lot of people because of the weekend but Yuta didn't care. "You haven't been to Chicago if you didn’t visit this place." Johnny claimed that made the girl nod. They took tons of pictures, Y/N teasing that he needed to show it to his cousins. 

Johnny offered to get them coffee, leaving the two of them in the park while still taking pictures. "Johnny is pretty nice." Yuta started that made her smile, nodding at him. "You never mentioned him in your letters." 

"I don't know what to tell you." She answered quietly. "But I like him. So much." He wanted to stop her that moment, wanted her to not continue what she's saying or it will just hurt him. "He helped me a lot to quickly adapt here." 

A bitter smile escaped his lips. The same way she helped him back in Korea. How dare she fall in love with another guy that way? But when Johnny came with their coffees at hand, he saw the twinkle in her eyes. The twinkle that made his heart flutter. She really does love Johnny. And who is he to take that twinkle away? Who is he to tell her what she can and can't do? He's just her friend. A very dear friend. 

He drank his coffee watching as how the taller guy fixed her hair, smiling at her with a lot of love in his eyes. Bittersweet. That was what it was. It's hurtful yet romantic. And he can't believe that he will always remember Chicago with those feelings. Yeoksi Chicago. 

Johnny loves Y/N. He's sure of that. And he honestly doesn't want to believe that it didn't work well with them. What really happened? Did she give up? Or is he the one who gave up? That was the question in his mind seeing Johnny in front of the two kids' school. He can still remember him but does Johnny even remember him? 

Yuta can see the two kids going outside the gates and honestly, he was scared that they'll run to their dad. He shouldn't have come here today. Why did he even come here? "Daddy!" He heard Jae call running to his dad. Of course, he must have missed him so much that the younger guy even called him 'appa' last time. But he noticed Cherry stopping on her tracks. 

She noticed him but he only smiled at her, planning to just go. He was about to enter his car when he heard the younger girl say, "Can I hang out with Yuta samchon?" That was when Johnny noticed him, Jae even waved at him excitedly. "He promised me that we'll go back to the library when he gets back from Spain." He did promise her. But her dad is here. Isn't she excited to see him again? 

"Is it alright if Cherry goes with you?" Yuta nodded. He wanted to hang out with them anyways. "I'll just tell Y/N." Cherry just walked chicly to him, her eyes as dark as when he first met her. Why is she like this? Does she not like Johnny? Jae told Yuta that he wanted to hang out with his dad, even telling him to take care of his noona that he found so adorable. 

Yuta bid farewell to the father-son, opening the backseat door for the younger girl. Cherry was just looking at her shoes when Yuta entered the car, starting the engine to drive her to the library she loved. "Samchon…" she called which made him look at her from the mirror of the car, humming as a response. "Can you buy me a cake today?" 

It was a request he can't say no. This was the first time that Cherry asked him for something and he's somehow glad that it is just a simple thing. He parked in front of a pretty café, helping her get down from the car, and even opened the door for her. "You can order whatever you want." He urged, eyeing all the selections of different flavored cakes. 

The girl pointed at a white cake with red cherries on top, making Yuta smile. A cherry cake. "Can you buy me the whole cake?" The guy just nodded. It's not bad to spoil her once in a while. He told the girl on the counter their order, handing him his card when she made another request, "Do you have candles?" Candles? Is it her birthday? Is that why Johnny is here in Korea? 

He let the younger girl put candles in between the cherries of her cake. "Is it your birthday today?" He asked and she nodded casually that startled him. Why are they together? She should be with her parents. "Don't you want to share the cake with your brother?" 

Cherry shook her head. "I always share everything with him. He and eomma never liked cherries anyways." He pursed his lips at that, she does hate cherries. Ironically, she named her firstborn with something that she didn't like. "And dad hates cherry." She was staring at the cake while saying those words in a hushed tone. Is she referring to the fruit or another thing? "Can you light it up, samchon?" Her eyes were moist, sparkling against the light, like she wanted to cry. 

He held the top of her head, smiling. "Wait up. I'll just go get something." He said then stood up. "Stay here and wait for me. I won't be long." But she only stared at him in worry. Yuta handed her his phone, promising that he'll be back quickly. He crossed the street to get her some flowers then cursed himself for not knowing what color she wanted. Does she even like flowers? 

To be safe, he followed the florist's advice in getting a white rose for 'his daughter'. There was a new expression on Cherry's face when he handed her the single white flower, an emotion he hasn't seen from her before. "Girls should receive at least a flower on their birthday." He reasoned out then lit up all the candles on the cake. She whispered something on herself as a wish before blowing the candles one at a time. 

Yuta took away the candles then started slicing the cake. He placed one slice on Cherry's plate, even topping it with cherries on top. It was the younger girl who gave him his slice of the vanilla cake. "Do you want to do anything else? Ice skating?" 

"Can we just go ice skating with eomma and Jae some time?" He nodded. She always thinks about them. "I'll just finish the book in the library today." 

It is her birthday yet she's silently reading a suspense book while seated on a bean couch. Yuta just bought her some snacks and got a book to read so he wouldn't get bored. He would smile at her little gasps and remembered how Y/N would be like that while reading manga. Cherry is indeed a splitting image of her. It's crazy. 

"Samchon," Cherry called, closing the hardbound book she was reading earlier. Is she done? That fast? "When you were young, what do you want to be when you grow up?" 

He chuckled at that question. She is still a kid. "I want to be a soccer player." 

"How about mom?" 

Yuta glanced at her. "She wanted to be an illustrator." He remembered how good her drawings are and even pursue that passion until her college years. "But you know, your mom suddenly wrote to me one day and said that she wanted to be a mom." 

"Can dreams change?" Cherry asked innocently. There's a certain air of maturity in the little girl that Yuta always forgets that she's just a kid. Now, she looks like a little girl who wonders about life. 

Yuta nodded at the question. "What do you want to be when you grow up, Cherry?" 

"A detective." That's a nice dream. Maybe that's why she likes reading all these Agatha Christie books. "When I become a detective, I will help children find their dads." That sparked his curiosity. What? "I wanted to find my dad." 

"Johnny is your dad." 

"He's not." She exclaimed which made Yuta wide-eyed. "Eomma got pregnant with me even before she married dad. She had Jae because she wanted to save her and dad's marriage." That was some wild accusations from a child. 

Yet, it seemed rather logical. 

It was a mystery to him why Johnny and Y/N broke up when he saw how much they liked each other. They had two children, isn't that enough reason to stay together? He remembered all the conversations with Cherry about her dad, how sad her reaction is, and how quiet her voice is when talking about him. The image of the younger girl who looked awkward seeing her dad flashed on his mind. She's wary of him. Not scared, not angry. She just doesn't look like someone who knew what she should do with her dad. She looked like she doesn't belong. 

But then again, maybe it's just her. 

Maybe he can help her. He can probably prove that Johnny is her dad. "Cherry, how old are you?" 

"Eight." 

'Seven years, turning eight' He can hear Y/N's voice in his mind saying those words. The same age as Cherry. The last time they saw each other was eight years. In Chicago. After that night. 

"Samchon, do you know who my real dad is?" 

Yuta gulped. He probably knows. 

Fuck, he might just be Cherry's dad. 

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Eight

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 12

AO3

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite

Alastair clutched his sharpest dagger in his hand as he followed Thomas to the ruins. He’d been carrying it with him, just in case. His cousin Jem was not fond of his dagger collection, but Alastair had found the daggers could calm him down. He liked moving twirling them in his hand, he liked the way the grip felt in his hands. He didn’t hurt himself, and even if he did he would never use his precious daggers. It was an odd interest, one Alastair had held since he was about twelve and had entered a decorative weapon’s shop with Cordelia by accident. His father had called it all rubbish, nothing compared to cortana, and while that was true, Alastair’s eye had fallen onto a beautiful, but simple and relatively affordable dagger. He’d asked his mother if he could have it for his birthday. She’d warned him, it wasn’t a toy, these were for decoration, but he did keep them for decoration, hanging them on his bedroom wall, occasionally holding them. They weren’t meant for use except under unusual circumstances like this.

He understood Jem’s concern, as a psychiatrist he must have seen many patients who struggled with self harm, but Alastair never had. With the current circumstances, he was glad to have something to defend himself with just in case. He hated not knowing what was coming though. He hated this constant fear that Thomas was right, that something was coming for him next and Alastair had no idea how to stop it.

He would never admit it to anyone but himself, but he was in love with Thomas. It felt a lot like when he’d just started his relationship with Charles, yet also different. It was wondrous feeling, falling in love. Wanting to be near him all the time when Alastair usually preferred solitude, wanting to see him happy and doing anything to make sure he was. The warm, fuzzy feeling when Thomas smiled at him. But there was a reason people called it falling in love, and Alastair had learnt by now that after the fall came the landing.

He’d do anything to keep Thomas safe. He had no idea what he’d do if he died. He didn’t think he could bear it. If anyone deserved to live, to be happy, it was Thomas. He wondered if he should tell Thomas how he felt. He knew now Thomas was gay, but if Thomas liked him, would he ask him advice for coming out to his parents? Then of course Alastair had confided in Charles, had asked him for advice all the time. He’d taken his advice to heart once, thinking Charles was so much older and wiser and knew what was best.

The ruins looked abandoned. Alastair knew there were plenty of ruins in Scotland, but he hadn’t heard of any being at walking distance. Lucie had come here often enough that she must have known about them, her grandmother lived here year round. Usually, ruins did not appear out of nowhere. He could make out the outline of what must have been a building once, an upright wall here and there.

‘This must have been a castle once,’ Alastair said. ‘Considering how big it is. Where are we?’

‘I’m guessing we’re still in the woods,’ Thomas said. ‘Perhaps it’s like in Beauty and the Beast and people are enchanted to not find it.’

Alastair couldn’t roll his eyes enough. ‘First of all, in Beauty and the Beast there was nothing keeping people from finding the castle, they just never did because they did not leave their village. Not that any of that made sense. And if people are enchanted not to find this place, why would we?’

‘I’m sure there’s a story somewhere that describes this,’ Thomas said. ‘Perhaps it can only be found under certain circumstances, on certain days or hours. Oh, there’s an inscription here.’

Alastair walked over to see where Thomas was pointing. ‘It’s in Scottish Gaelic, I imagine. I can’t read that,’ Alastair said.

‘Me neither,’ Thomas admitted. ‘But I’ll take a picture. Perhaps we can decipher at home.’

Alastair wasn’t sure it would be important but it was worth a try. Mysterious ruins no one knew were there had to hold some sort of important clue, right? Alastair remembered what they’d discussed about the possibility of people getting trapped in places by a supernatural entity. Was this what it looked like? He tried not to think about the possibility of being trapped here with no escape.

He took out his phone. No cell reception, but that didn’t surprise him. He took some pictures too, making sure to look at every part of the ruins and see if there was anything of interest. He remembered it all, of course, but being able to show people pictures was easier than dragging them all into his memory.

‘I think there’s a cellar down here,’ Thomas said, standing at a trap door.

Alastair leaned down and tried to open it, but it was stuck. He yanked as hard as he could but no effect.

‘You’re stronger than me,’ Alastair said. ‘Perhaps you should try.’

Thomas leaned down and started pulling. He really was muscular and Alastair caught himself staring at Thomas’ upper arms as he pulled. Part of him longed to touch those arms, those shoulders.

‘Did you start working out?’ Alastair asked.

Thomas looked up. ‘Yes, why?’

‘I’ve been trying to understand how you’re suddenly so muscular.’

‘Some muscle came with my growth spurt,’ Thomas admitted. ‘But I started working out with James too. I found it enjoyable. Do you?’

‘Not lately. I used to train with wooden swords with Cordelia, and I do try to keep active, but I’ve never really gone to the gym. Although I guess it would be entertaining to watch attractive men work out.’

‘You like muscular men, then?’ Thomas asked.

Alastair wondered what he could answer without giving too much away. ‘I’m not necessarily into body builders or the like, but I do appreciate some muscle. It’s not the main thing I look for in a partner, it’s not all about appearance.’

‘So, what do you look for?’ Thomas asked.

‘I like being able to spend time with someone, have fun with him,’ Alastair said. ‘My ex never took me anywhere, it was mostly making out in his apartment and for him it was very much about sex and about fulfilling his needs. But I would like someone who’s not ashamed of me and takes me places. Like going to a museum, or have dinner somewhere. I guess going to a museum is not a very typical date, but I would really like that.’

‘Really? I’ve always loved art and history museums,’ Thomas said.

Alastair guessed perhaps someday he could ask Thomas to go to a museum with him. It made him love Thomas even more, knowing he didn’t think it was weird Alastair wanted to go a museum, knowing he would like that as well. Charles had always thought he was weird, in a way that said “I like you, but other people won’t”. Or perhaps it was more like "I tolerate you but only as long as you can satisfy me."

‘Not everything has to be outside though,’ Alastair continued. ‘I dislike crowds. I would also like to be at home with someone, and just do nice things, cuddle on the couch, watch a movie, play a game.’

He’d missed that with Charles. The best he’d gotten was watching a movie together at his place, but even then Charles had been impatient to finish and start having sex. Charles had never taken him anywhere in public, claiming it was for his sake because what if someone he knew would see them together? But Alastair didn’t want to hide, and he didn’t want a relationship that was all about sex, or all about someone else’s needs. He wanted to feel loved and appreciated. He knew it wasn’t very realistic that would happen though. He wasn’t an easy person to love.

‘I think I’d like that too,’ Thomas said. ‘I never really thought about that, to be honest. I never thought beyond having crushes on boys and maybe going on dates. But it really sounds nice, going to a museum with someone you like.’

Alastair wondered if Thomas would like to go to a museum with him someday. They’d walked through most of the ruins, and beyond the inscription and the closed trapdoor Alastair couldn’t find anything of interest right now. Nor could he explain how they’d ended up here.

A howl interrupted their conversation. It was a loud sound, the howl of a wolf.

‘Come, let’s get out of here,’ Alastair said softly, grabbing Thomas’ hand.

They took the same route back, and not much later another howl pierced the air. Alastair wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but he held his dagger ready to attack, Thomas’ hand in his free hand, gently pulling him along with him. They wouldn’t get separated. They would make it back. They weren’t trapped.

There were no wolves in Scotland, no ordinary ones at least. They hadn’t been in a very long time. There was an old legend of the wulver, but as far as Alastair knew those were friendly and could sometimes be found fishing. Werewolves, though, were another story. In old stories, werewolves were villagers who went into the woods to change into a wolf. Some drank water from the footprint of a wolf, others wore a belt made of wolf fur. They returned to their villages to kill. They were extremely rare nowadays, the methods of becoming one lost. Many that remained no longer changed back into a human, remaining wolf forever.

Thomas gripped his hand tightly, nails digging into his skin.

‘Tom,’ Alastair whispered.

‘Over there.’

Alastair looked in the direction Thomas pointed at and after blinking a few times he saw it too. Even after training with Risa he still needed to make a conscious effort to see. It walked on its hind legs, using its front paws for support at times. Not quite human in built, but not quite wolf either. It was covered in dark gray hair, some bare patches and dark red stains here and there. Its eyes were a bright yellow, its mouth was opened just a little, sharp teeth visible.

Alastair gently tugged on Thomas’ hand, indicating he wanted to continue. He didn’t dare speak. The werewolf hadn’t seen them yet. Alastair hoped they could get past it without being seen. He could be quiet, he could be careful. Thomas followed, taking careful steps, and glancing back to the werewolf every once in a while. It lifted its nose into the air, sniffing in the cold air. Alastair didn’t feel any wind, couldn’t tell if they were on the safe side of it. Likely, there wasn’t any wind and the wolf could smell them. Its head turned, yellow eyes looking into Alastair’s own.

‘Run,’ he whispered.

He kept his grip on Thomas’ hand. They wouldn’t get separated. He wouldn’t let Thomas die. They ran, and Thomas’ long legs easily pulled him along. Werewolves were fast though, Alastair didn’t know if they could stay ahead of it and soon enough he felt something yank Thomas away, forcing him to let go of his hand.

Thomas had fallen onto the ground, the werewolf trailing around him, claws ready to attack. Alastair gripped his dagger firmly and turned back, running straight at the creature.

‘Alastair, get away from here!’ Thomas yelled.

Alastair plunged the dagger into the back of the wolf. The creature howled in pain, and Alastair pulled back his dagger before it turned around and hit him with its claw. Alastair fell over, and he felt warm blood on his shoulder. It wasn’t a deep cut, it couldn’t be, but he was bleeding. The wolf stalked towards him, careful as if to sense if he was still dangerous. It wasn’t dead. It didn’t seem too bothered by the injury Alastair had inflicted. Of course, werewolves were fast healers, only silver was a weakness. And cortana, of course, but he didn’t have the sword. His dagger wasn’t made out of silver.

He scrambled to his feet, dodging another attack from the wolf’s claws. Thomas was behind him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along. They ran, but they could only make few steps until the wolf crashed into him with its full body strenght behind it, causing both of them to fall over. Alastair held his dagger in front of him, desperate for some protection even if the dagger couldn’t hold the wolf away for long. As it slashed with its claw, Alastair struck too. He caught the paw with his dagger, severing it from the body. Warm blood gushed out, but only for a moment. The paw fell. When it hit the ground, Alastair could make out the rough shape of a pale human hand. The wound closed almost immediately, but the paw didn’t grow back. Even a fast healing werewolf couldn’t grow back severed limbs. Good to know.

The wolf came closer, giving him no room to get up or escape. He threw himself in front of Thomas in a hopeless attempt to keep him safe, to be a shield to him. He still held up his dagger. If he was lucky, he could cut off the other paw, but he didn’t think he would be able to behead the wolf with just this dagger.

Then it collapsed onto the ground, losing its body hair in the process and transforming into a naked human man.

‘Alastair!’

Behind where the wolf had been was Cordelia, cortana in her hand.

‘I was so worried!’ she yelled. ‘Where have you been?’

‘Layla,’ he said. ‘You killed the werewolf.’

Alastair scrambled up, and took Thomas’ hand to help him up too. He inspected the body, thankful it hadn’t collapsed on top of him. Cordelia had slashed through it, the head severed from the body. It was an average looking white man, maybe forty years old, with mousy hair. He had no idea for how long the man had been a wolf, there was no way to tell and the man was naked so he couldn’t date the clothing style either.

‘And just in time,’ Cordelia said. ‘You almost died.’

‘My dagger isn’t made of silver,’ Alastair said. ‘Only so much I could do. Thank you for saving us. Why are you here?’

He noticed Lucie was there too, standing behind Cordelia, clutching one of his daggers. Under normal circumstances, he would be very angry someone had touched his daggers without his permission but considering a werewolf had just tried to kill him and Thomas, he was tolerant. He’d probably be more upset if Lucie had come here unarmed. When they returned home, he should give Lucie another dagger. This one was the first he’d received as a gift, too precious to him and he didn’t want to get blood on it.

‘We came looking for you, of course,’ Cordelia said and Alastair had the sense she was angry with him. ‘You were gone for so long, we figured even you couldn’t stay in the woods for the whole day.’

Alastair frowned. ‘A whole day? What time is it?’

‘We left around four in the afternoon,’ Cordelia said.

‘Four? No, that’s not possible. We left quite early. ’

‘We left around eight,’ Thomas added. ‘There’s no way we’ve been gone for over eight hours when you arrived here.’

He took a picture of the dead human with his phone. Alastair wasn’t so sure that was a good idea but he figured they could have that discussion later, and he could always delete the pictures.

Right now, all Alastair wanted was some bandages on his shoulder, a couple of painkillers and a hot bath. Or maybe a bath would only hurt his shoulders more, in which case he guessed curling up on the couch in a blanket would do.

They took the same route back, Alastair looking around to take in as many details as possible. He could go over them again later and compare the details of the walk today to previous days when nothing strange had happened. It was the same path they’d walked on before, but some things were still different. Alastair still didn’t quite understand why they’d found themselves someplace else today.

They made their way back to the Lightwood’s cottage to find both sets of parents there, looking at them in shock. Sophie looked like she’d been crying, and Alastair felt guilty. He liked Thomas’ mother, he didn’t want to make her cry.

‘Where have you been?’ Tessa asked, her voice stern.

‘Is that blood on cortana?’ Will added.

‘We realized Thomas and Alastair had been gone for a long time,’ Cordelia said, changing her sword back into her necklace. ‘We couldn’t reach them, so we went looking. Just in time, because they were attacked by a werewolf.’

‘It didn’t feel that long to me or Thomas,’ Alastair added. ‘One hour, two maybe. We did find something strange, ruins in the middle of the woods we haven’t encountered before. I took some pictures, but we can go over the memory as well if the pictures aren’t clear.’

‘Later,’ Gideon determined. ‘The four of you look terrible. Is anyone hurt?’

‘The werewolf did claw open my shoulder,’ Alastair said. ‘I don’t think it’s deep, but might need to be cleaned and bandaged.’

‘Come, I’ll take a look,’ Tessa said.

He followed Tessa back to the manor. It was a bit far, but Alastair could still walk and he guessed Tessa had more first aid supplies at the manor.

‘I don’t think it’s bad,’ he said. ‘I feel it, but I can still move my shoulder.’

‘I’ll need to see it before I can make any judgements,’ Tessa said.

They entered the house and Alastair sat down on the couch while Tessa gathered some supplies.

‘Please take off your shirt,’ she said.

Alastair did, wincing in pain. Tessa inspected the injury. ‘It’s been a while since I did this. But I used to work in the emergency room as a doctor before I turned to research.’

Alastair vaguely knew Tessa had a PhD in medical research, but wasn’t sure which field. He didn’t know she’d worked as a doctor before that, although he guessed it made sense she’d started out there before turning to research.

‘You’re right that the wounds are very superficial, but with a wild animal attack I would recommend a rabies shot,’ Tessa said.

‘Right now?’ Alastair asked, very unmotivated to go to a hospital.

‘Not necessarily, but don’t wait too long,’ Tessa said. ‘If you don’t, and you get rabies, you’ll die. I’ll put on some bandages and let you rest.’

When Tessa was finished bandaging the wound, Thomas entered. His brown hair was a little damp and he’d changed into a clean green shirt and blue jeans. He looked worried. Alastair tried to sit up. He was suddenly very aware that he was half naked, his shirt discarded somewhere. It had blood on it, and a hole where the wolf’s claw had carved through it. He should probably throw it away, which was a shame because he liked that shirt. Thomas was staring at him, Alastair could tell. Would he like what he saw?

‘Are you alright?’ Thomas asked.

‘I’m better now, the wound is thoroughly cleaned and covered. Tessa didn’t think stitches would be a good idea considering the infection risk,’ Alastair said.

Thomas sat down next to him, his cheeks a little red. ‘I was so scared today.’

‘I know. Me too.’

‘You threw yourself in front of me.’

‘I wanted to protect you. I had a weapon, you didn’t.’

Thomas put his hand on Alastair’s. ‘You could have died. You had every opportunity to get away while it was focused on me.’

Alastair shook his head. ‘It would have caught up to me. We both would have died if Cordelia hadn’t shown up when she did. I can’t believe our luck.’

‘Can I hug you?’ Thomas asked.

A bit reluctant, Alastair consented. Thomas pulled him into a hug. It was an unfamiliar sensation to Alastair, Thomas warm hands on his back, careful not to touch his injury, feeling him so close, feeling his rough breathing. Thomas’ hair was damp, he smelt of vanilla. He must have taken a quick shower before coming here. Alastair leaned in, his head against Thomas’ chest. Thomas was warm, and it felt nice to be held like this. He felt safe and protected, and for Alastair a sense of safety was scarce to come by.

‘I was scared of dying,’ Thomas said. ‘But watching you die would be far worse.’

‘Don’t be dramatic, Tom,’ Alastair scoffed. ‘You barely know me.’

‘That’s not true. I’ve gotten to know you a lot in the past week, and I have much enjoyed our time together. And I realized… I… I love you.’

Thomas let go of him, as if to await his reaction. Alastair was tempted to put a shirt on, very aware of Thomas’ eyes on him. At the same time, he liked the attention, hoped Thomas would think he was beautiful even if Alastair had never felt that way. A bit uncomfortable and cold, Alastair instead grabbed the blanket on the couch and wrapped it around him as he tried to process the shock of Thomas’ words and find a proper reply. He suspected the blanket belonged to Lucie, it was decorated with Lilo and Stitch.

He knew he should say something, but he couldn’t find the words. Part of him believed he’d hallucinated what Thomas had just said, because it couldn’t be true, could it? Why would Thomas love him? What was there to love?

‘I’m sorry,’ Thomas said.

‘What for?’

‘You obviously don’t feel the same way, and I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you with my feelings.’

Alastair looked at Thomas, trying to read his face. Was he serious right now?

‘I do feel the same way, you fool,’ Alastair said, staring at Thomas in disbelief.

Thomas seemed to freeze in the moment, hazel eyes wide, his mouth slightly opened. Before either of them could say anything, Tessa returned with several medicine boxes.

‘Here are some painkillers,’ she said.

‘Thank you,’ Alastair said, taking two paracetamol. If that wasn’t enough, he could always add some ibuprofen.

‘Gideon and Sophie are on their way here to cook, you must be starving,’ Tessa said. ‘Alastair, be careful with that shoulder, give it some rest.’

Tessa returned to the kitchen, presumably to start preparing. Alastair realized he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and apparently it was now on the late end for dinner. It felt odd, since Alastair was fairly certain he hadn’t been gone for a whole day. It felt more like lunch time.

‘You look adorable with that blanket,’ Thomas said with a small smile.

‘I’m cold,’ Alastair said.

‘I’m not judging,’ Thomas said.

‘You were,’ Alastair said.

Thomas said nothing.

‘Come on, you definitely were.’

‘Can’t you just accept that you’re cute?’ Thomas asked.

Alastair made a show of rolling his eyes. ‘Alright.’

‘Can I kiss you?’

‘What?’

‘You said you liked me too. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for some time. So I figured I’d ask.’

‘I expected you’d just initiate. Asking is nice though. Keep doing that, I like it.’

Charles had never asked permission for anything. Charles usually initiated, he had been the one to decide what would happen and had assumed Alastair was fine with whatever he had in mind. And Alastair had pushed himself to accept things he wasn’t comfortable with too, terrified to disappoint. Terrified he would be abandoned if he didn’t do whatever his lover wanted.

He could not have anticipated how amazing it would feel to have Thomas ask him for permission to kiss him.

Thomas didn’t say anything else, just leaned in and closed his eyes, allowing their lips to meet. Alastair suspected Thomas didn’t really know what he was doing, but that was alright. He took control of the kiss, grabbing the front of Thomas shirt with his good hand. Thomas put his hands in his hair, gently tugging at the strands. It usually annoyed him when people messed with his hair, but right now it was a tangled mess anyway, and he had to admit it felt kind of nice.

They broke apart, faces still close, and looking into each other’s eyes. Thomas’ hazel eyes seemed like a mixture of colors this close and Alastair could see the light reflect in them. He felt a desire for more, but wanted to take it slow. This wouldn’t be like Charles, no rushed or pressured decisions. It would be gentle and sweet and they would have all the time in the world.

He leaned back, and pulled Thomas along with him, Alastair laying down on the couch on his back, the blanket slipping from his shoulders. He didn’t mind now, he allowed Thomas to admire him. Thomas looked a bit awkward, trying to find a comfortable position without crushing him. Alastair would probably be able to take Thomas’ weight, he liked being underneath a lover, just the right amount of pressure on his body to feel comfortable.

Although maybe not now with his shoulder injured, that was just going to hurt a lot.

‘Tom, your parents could be here any minute,’ Alastair said.

Thomas only shrugged. ‘Kissing a boy in front of them saves me having to write a speech. And I really don’t want to stop kissing you.’

‘Are you sure?’ Alastair asked. ‘You don’t want to give a speech?’

‘I’m sure,’ Thomas said. ‘I just want to kiss you.’

Alastair had nothing to say against that, and kissed Thomas again, gently opening his mouth and slipping his tongue inside. If someone had walked in, he probably wouldn’t even have noticed, too caught up in the moment. Thomas’ mouth tasted of strawberries, he must have eaten some before coming here.

After Charles, Alastair had never imagined another chance at love, and certainly not with someone as kind and beautiful and perfect as Thomas Lightwood. Part of him was still convinced he was too difficult to be loved. He pushed all thoughts of something bad happening to Thomas to the back of his mind and indulged in the moment. When they broke apart, they just sat lay, breathing carefully. Thomas’ hand in his hair again, wrapping strands of it around his finger.

After a moment Alastair decided with his injured shoulder, this wasn’t the most comfortable position for either of them, so he sat back up, climbing into Thomas’ lap, arms around him.

‘You’re a good kisser,’ Thomas said.

‘You will be too, with some practice,’ Alastair said. ‘Was that your first kiss?’

‘It was,’ Thomas said. ‘I’ve never been with anyone before. But I’ve also never felt about anyone like I felt about you.’

Alastair frowned. ‘Really?’

‘Really,’ Thomas confirmed. ‘I don’t fall in love easily. I’ve felt attracted to other boys at times, but I rarely really fall in love. When I do, it doesn’t really go away though. I’ve loved you since we went to school together.’

‘Since school? But I was awful to you back then. I’d done nothing to deserve it.’

‘You don’t always love the people who deserve it,’ Thomas said. ‘Back then, it was more of a schoolboy crush really. You were so mysterious and beautiful, yet I saw you were sad too. I could tell you didn’t mean what you said, I could tell you were in pain and I wanted to know what broke your heart, what let such bitterness spill out. And then I heard about you from Lucie, when you went to school with her. Although I still didn’t understand you, she confirmed you weren’t awful at all since you stood up for her and I felt like I was right, there was something special about you. And now this past week, I feel like I’ve finally seen the real you. And I don’t just mean that sadness, I mean your interests, your love for books and long walks. How you can rant for hours about the evil of capitalism and how passionate you are about wanting change. So my feelings have changed over time, but it’s always been you I wanted.’

Alastair found it difficult to believe, but he could tell Thomas was sincere. It was difficult to believe anyone could love him, he guessed. He still felt too broken to be loved, undeserving of it. He wanted to believe Thomas though, he wanted to make this work. He wanted to silence the voice in his head that it was impossible, that Thomas couldn’t possibly love him, because who could love someone like him? The voice was wrong, and Thomas gentle touch allowed him to push it to the back of his mind for now. Perhaps someday it would disappear for good.

[mc-lukanette]

The Last Renewal

(based on this post I did)

Luka mindlessly strummed his guitar as he sat on the deck of the Liberty. Playing always helped him feel out what he should do next or where he should go for the current timeline he was in.

He wasn’t sure how many times he’d used Renewal to go back; not because he’d lost count, but because he’d never kept count in the first place. Sass had asked him before his first one how many times he was willing to go back, and he honestly couldn’t answer because he wasn’t able imagine a number big enough.

Seeing Marinette frown the way she did before he’d ever renewed a single timeline, he didn’t know if there was a number big enough.

All things considered, the current timeline seemed relatively normal, though he couldn’t help feeling that he was out-of-sync with it. It worried him, imagining Marinette falling into misery again despite his best efforts.

But he couldn’t predict what could happen, nor could Sass, so he didn’t want to use Renewal just yet. He’d just do what he’d been doing and see what came of it.

“Luka?”

He looked up from his guitar, surprised by the familiar voice. Marinette was standing across from the boat and rocking back and forth on her heels, gaze occasionally flickering to the gangplank.

“Marinette?”

It took him a moment to realize that he’d been sitting there stupidly, not doing anything but staring at her. He finally got up, setting his guitar aside and heading for the gangplank to allow her onboard. “Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here?”

Her posture was straighter than usual as she walked across the gangplank to get to him. She looked down at the deck, briefly biting her bottom lip, then made eye contact. “I wanted to see you?”

His heart skipped a beat and he promptly tried to ignore it. Somehow, no matter how much he renewed the timeline, she still had the power to send his feelings into overdrive.

She shifted in place at his lack of response, asking sheepishly, “Is that okay?”

He forced himself back to reality, returning her smile with a genuine one. “Of course it is.”

“...But?” she inquired with a tilt of her head.

Oh. Had she always been able to read him like that?

Not wanting her to worry, he answered honestly, “It’s nothing. I just... thought you’d be with Adrien and everyone else right now.”

Because it only made sense for her to be where everyone else was; he couldn’t imagine why she wouldn’t. Adrien was there, and since her friends were too, it wasn’t even like she had to be alone with him at risk of her anxiety.

“I know,” she admitted, “but... then I thought about you and how you were here all by yourself.”

He blinked. Her response seemed like such a small thing, but it set a firework off in his heart nonetheless. He felt like he should be used to it, but she’d never just—and so casually—

“Thanks for thinking about me,” he said, “but my mom’s hanging out here somehow. You don’t have to feel forced to stay.”

Giving her an out if she didn’t want to reply, he turned away and walked back to his guitar. Honestly, she’d already made his day just by showing that she thought of him, so he didn’t need her to stick around.

He’d only gotten to grab the neck of the guitar when she spoke up again.

“Sorry. I lied.”

He raised a brow, not understanding what she meant by that. Turning around, he saw her fidgeting shyly and... had she always been blushing like that?

"I wasn't thinking about how lonely you were,” she confessed, “I mean, I was—but it wasn't about you being lonely. Even if I knew your mom was here, I...” She met his gaze. “I wanted to be the one who made you feel not lonely?”

He could only stand there, trying to process that. In all of his renewals, he couldn’t remember anything like this. Renewal did have its flaws, like leaving occasional gaps of in his memory of past timelines, but he was sure he wouldn’t be able to forget something sweet like that; in fact, all of his moments with her were hard to forget.

Smiling at her, realizing that she said it and meant it, he gave her a grateful nod. “I definitely feel that way now.”

She beamed at him in response, looking so proud and happy that he almost found it funny.

He sat back in his original spot and set his guitar on his lap, not complaining when Marinette walked over and took a seat next to him. Her eyes locked with his at first, then moved to his guitar with an expectant look.

He didn’t really think about what to play. He just did it, letting his fingers decide the tune. He didn’t notice that he was playing this moment until he saw that the look on Marinette’s face matched some of the notes.

He mentally acknowledged that he still got lost while enjoying the little times they had one-on-one with each other. After all, he never knew when or if he was going to feel it again. There were timelines where Marinette would abruptly pull away from their friendship, so he had to try not to get too hopeful. She was unpredictable that way.

He really did love that about her though. He supposed it was a character flaw of his, not he had any intention of changing it.

He only realized that he’d stopped playing when Marinette’s hand came to rest over the one he had on his guitar’s neck. He glanced at her, seeing that her eyes were soft and half-lidded as if she were daydreaming about something.

Apparently sensing that he was staring, she peeked over at him, a blush overtaking her face as she pulled her hand away.

“Ah—do you remember how we met?”

“Of course I do,” he answered immediately, almost offended that she’d consider that he could forget.

She giggled at the fast response. Staring down at her lap, she idly twirled a strand of her hair and admitted, “I was actually pretty embarrassed about it for a while. Just—out of all the first impression I could’ve given, it had to be me stammering like an idiot.”

He chuckled, knowing that he couldn’t tell her that he looked forward to it every time.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he assured. When she gave him a weird look, he clarified, “Your song plays for everyone to hear. I think that's amazing, and I'm glad I get to hear it."

She pouted at him, but he could tell by the way her blush reddened that she didn’t object to him saying such things. He knew he might’ve come on a little strong and he didn’t really mean to, but...

Well, she somehow got prettier with every Renewal and he never got used to it.

“T-thank you,” she murmured, a small whine in her voice. Awkwardly toying with the fabric of her capris, she added, “Sometimes, I-I feel like you’re the only one listening...”

The happy skip of his heartbeat turned to an ache. He turned his gaze back to his guitar, already trying to come up with some sort of melody that might cheer her up in case he were to fail at comforting her. He grabbed one of the tuning pegs, twisting it slightly and thinking of using it as some sort of music metaphor that she could relate to.

He was about to bring it up when she cut him off.

“And... then I realized that I’m okay with that.”

He faltered, accidentally twisting the peg far more than intended. That string was definitely out of tune now.

His confusion must’ve shown on his face when he looked at her, judging from how she looked back. Her focus shifted to his arm, her hand reaching up to grab the cuff of his sleeve.

"You're the least complicated person I've ever had in my life, Luka. I know it doesn't sound like a compliment, but it is. It feels like you've always understood me, and that I could understand you back."

He hesitated to respond, remembering how many times he’d renewed the timeline. What if...what if she could sense it and it was affecting her reaction to him? Maybe her powers as guardian reached her even when he went back, or her having had snake under her protection gave her a link to it? Either way, he’d never intended for such a side effect.

“Like we’ve known each other for a long time...?” he prompted uneasily.

She genuinely thought about it, rubbing her chin in silent contemplation. Her conclusion ended up being a simple shake of her head. “No. Just... that you’ve always been listening, and I never really appreciated it.”

He hoped his sigh of relief wasn’t obvious enough to warrant any questioning. Smiling, he replied, “I never felt like you were taking me for granted, Marinette.”

She snorted, then giggled, smiling up at him with a fond gaze. “Of course you don’t. You—you’re too caring. You don’t think of yourself. You’re always thinking of other people... of me.” She let go of his sleeve to nudge him playfully. “If I didn’t already think of others first too, I’d call you a bad influence.”

He giggled as well, though his heart was racing for reasons he didn’t understand. While Marinette seemed rather casual in interacting with him, something about the scene felt... intimate. He didn’t feel like he’d done anything particularly special in the current timeline - he was just being himself - so why—

“I was thinking about it; about that day, I mean,” she explained. “That’s why I brought it up. You comforted me again when I was worried about the ice rink, and once I started thinking about it, I couldn’t stop.”

He did nothing but listen to her, his mind genuinely blank.

She continued, “It wasn’t about no one else listening. It was more than that. You... you’re so you. You know how to make me laugh, you worry about me, you get angry on by behalf, and I've never felt more in-sync with someone than when we were sneaking into the TVi studio together."

She looked back at his sleeve, the cuff slightly out of place from when she’d grabbed it earlier. She went about fixing it, even caressing the button with her thumb.

“And then, I sort of realized... that I wanted more than just you listening. I—” She took a breath, making eye contact with him to help get her point across. “—I want to play for you. Just you. I don’t want anyone else to hear it.”

He opened his mouth, but it’s not working, only letting out a ghost of a word that he’d attempted to say. When he finally did manage to speak, all that came out was, “I... Marinette, I—”

“I love you, Luka,” she confirmed.

“Ah—”

His world went quiet, his mind unable to focus on anything else but the sparkle in her eyes. He replayed the last five seconds in his head, just to make sure he’d heard correctly.

Then, Marinette suddenly let out a breathy laugh, a hand to her chest in what looked to be a gesture of relief.

“That...” She sighed happily. “That was so much easier than I’d thought it’d be.”

If he wasn’t sure before, now he was. “You... you love me? You mean that?”

It sounded dumb when he asked it out loud like that.

She blushed, but her smile didn’t falter. “Yeah. You...you can tell by now, right?”

With that, something clicked. Things that didn’t make sense before now fit together in a neat little puzzle.

He was out-of-sync, just like he’d thought, because he hadn’t noticed that Marinette had felt anything for him beyond friendship. A mild attraction, maybe, but nothing beyond that. After spending so many Renewals seeing her get together with Adrien, he’d unconsciously began to ignore any hints that she had any feelings for him: Luka Couffaine.

Thus, if she looked at him more than usual, he chose not to notice. If she got exhausted by schemes of her getting together with Adrien, he presumed that she was just maturing past that stage and into a “normal” crush faster than usual. If she leaned a little closer when he played guitar for her - oh, she’d totally been doing that today, hadn’t she? - he brushed it off as him imagining things.

But now, he could tell. Now that she told him - now that he knew what to listen for - it was all he could hear. He’d never expected her to actually fall for him, at best thinking that she’d end up single, yet here she was.

He almost felt stupid for not noticing. She’d played the notes for him, but he didn’t hear what they had to say. Somehow, he’d spent so many Renewals understanding how she felt, yet simultaneously not understanding how she felt about him.

He was second-guessing himself all of a sudden. Had she shown interest in past Renewals and he tuned her out? When she’d pulled away from what he deemed to be friendship, was it truly spontaneous or had he chosen to dismiss all the signs she was giving him? Did she love him in any of those instances or was it just now that she ended up being in love with him—

Gosh, she loved him right now.

“I know it’s a lot,” she admitted, the apology implied in her tone. “I’m a lot. I mean, I’m not any good at being subtle, but—”

He snapped back to reality, all questions of whens and hows thoroughly discarded. Like it had wronged him, he shoved his guitar off his lap, leaving him free to pull Marinette into a tight hug.

Her surprised “Ah!” synced with the sound of the guitar hitting the deck. “L-luka? Your guitar!”

“I don’t care,” he whispered into her shoulder. He’d spent so many discarded timelines with that darn instrument that he didn’t feel an ounce of regret knocking it away if it meant leaving his lap free for Marinette.

He might’ve been shaking. Marinette’s concerned tone implied as much as she started to ask, “A-are you...”

She trailed off, as if a realization had started to form. Slowly, her hands came up to rest on his back, followed by her arms as she returned the strength of his hug.

He sighed, needing a moment to breathe her in. Vaguely answering her unfinished question, he replied, “...I’m so happy right now.”

“O-oh,” she squeaked, voice soft and quiet compared to when she’d confessed to him. She seemed to know what he meant by that. “You...you deserve to be happy, Luka. Y-you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

“I already have it,” he assured, gently squeezing her to remind himself that she was here. “It’s right here. You just gave it to me, Marinette.”

She shook, swallowing just to let out a weak, “L-luka...”

“I love you too. I love you so much,” he confessed, the words like a dropped weight that caused him to feel even lighter than he already felt.

Marinette’s fingers twitched against his back, her hands hesitating as if to prolong the hug as much as much as possible. When she eventually did release him, he felt a gentle push on his shoulders that encourage him to pull back.

He had to force himself to do so, having been content to hug her for the rest of the day had she allowed him to. However, he only caught a glimpse of her face, her eyes shimmering, before she was leaning in again, pressing a split-second kiss to his lips.

He jolted, as if he’d just been shocked, but then she kissed him again, this time closer to a full second.

It definitely didn’t feel like that long.

Once she’d pulled away to look at him, he averted his gaze and brought a hand to his lips, cherishing the memory of what he never thought he’d have. Marinette, meanwhile, was giggling, obviously enjoying the effect she had on him.

He made eye contact with her, then finally reached out to take her face in his hands. She hummed in content, placing her own hands on top of his while giving him unspoken permission.

He leaned in, kissing her until their time together felt longer than every timeline he’d erased.

[cherryeol04]

Late Night (M)

Pairings: Jisung x Reader Genre: Smut, humor, romance? Word Count: 3k Author’s Note: I feel like the ending was rushed a bit and not my best. But I wrote this instead of sleeping, so I hope you enjoy another Jisung from yours truly! 💖💖

The dream you had left you hot and bothered in a way that you hadn’t felt for quite some time. That was the sad reality you faced when dating an idol. Going weeks, if not months, without being near each other and the only thing to placate you were sleep deprived nightly messages that half the time didn’t make any sense and rushed good morning texts that usually didn’t make it to you until well in the afternoon. It was a struggle and in times like this, it really showed. It was still relatively early in the morning, you were sure and a quick glance at the clock told you it was only 4am.

Very fucking early in the morning. Way too early to even be horny, but you couldn't deny the fact that you were with the way your pussy throbbed between your legs and a carnal urge was trying to take over your body. The dream had been so explicit and had seemed so real that when you woke up, a wave of sadness washed over you. Just moments ago you had your boyfriend's cock in your hand, his breathy moans filling the room as you worked your tongue over the smooth, mushroom head. The taste that filled your mouth as precum leaked freely into it was so familiar and warm that there was no way you could have been dreaming. But you were and you absolutely hated both your brain and body.

With a groan, you rolled onto your side, hand reaching out to grab at your cellphone - wincing when the light of the screen hurt your pupils. It took a moment to adjust to the light, but eventually you did as you unlocked the phone and went straight to your messages. There were about 45 unread, most coming from the group chat you had with the boys. Normally it was filled with random dad jokes from Changbin, or cute cat videos and ASMR videos from Minho and Jeongin. You skipped it for now. Your mind was set on messaging your boyfriend, though you were almost 100% sure that he wouldn't be able to do anything. You knew Stray Kids was busy preparing for a comeback which meant long hours of practice in every department, meetings upon meetings and countless photoshoots and video shoots for trailers and music videos.

It was very hectic and you had to commend them for their dedication to the job. Their passion for music and being an idol clearly showed in times like these. But as a consequence it left you boyfriendless for months, with only your hand and your toys to take care of you. And while your favorite clit stimulator always got the job done, there was only so much you could take before you really started to crave the real thing. And it seemed like you were finally at your breaking point.

Baby

Are you awake?

Baby

No. Who in their right mind would be awake at this hour?

Baby

Jisung....

Baby

Y/n....

Baby

Come over~

Baby

It's 4am! I got practice at 6!

Baby

Then why are you still awake???

Baby

.....

So when and why did you want me to be there?

Baby

Now, and because I miss you

Baby

I miss you too but that's not a very good reason for me to get a ride across town at 4am.

Baby

I'm horny and dreamt of you

Baby

Oh? Do tell~

Baby

Not until you come over

Baby

😩 I'll see what I can do

Baby

Don't forget your key~

You had to admit, it was rather easy to convince Jisung to come over. Though there wasn't really a guarantee that would come over. It wasn't like he actually drove and could just hop in a car and make his way to your place. He would either have to wake a manager and ask for a ride, or somehow find some sort of public transportation. And walking was certainly out of the picture because it would be way after 6 am before he could even make halfway to your house. A part of you felt sorry for even suggesting he come over, but another part of you hoped he was able to find a ride and get over as quickly as possible.

The dream was still fresh in your mind, plaguing your thoughts as you tried to focus on anything but the idea of Jisung coming over. But it was there, standing proud and erect in the forefront of your brain and you were becoming increasingly aware of just how much you desperately missed his cock. Well, you missed Jisung too, but you were particularly fond of the appendage that hung between his legs. But honestly, who could blame you? He wasn't small, but he wasn't overly big either. If you had to put a word to it, he was about average size, but his cock was absolutely perfect. The skin was tan, much like the rest of Jisung's body which you absolutely adored, the head usually a pale pink unless he was really hot and bothered. Then it became ruddy and looked so divine and juicy enough to eat.

You groaned as your mind wandered further, lost in the memories of the weight of Jisung's cock in your mouth, as it always filled it out nicely. You could feel yourself drooling at the thought, frowning slightly. Get a hold of yourself. There was no point in fantasizing about it yet. A quick touch to your phone screen showed no new messages from Jisung and after double checking your chat with him, there wasn't anything indicating he wasn't coming. There was still hope.

With hopes of distracting your dreadfully dirty mind, you grabbed the TV remote and after fiddling with it for a bit, you turned YouTube back on and just randomly hit one of the videos in your recommended list. It was some movie review channel that was reviewing one of your favorite film series Hellraiser. It was good enough and within mere seconds of the video playing, you were drawn in and actually managed to forget about both Jisung and the dream. For the better part of twenty minutes, you were so engrossed in the video, snickering at the little quipes the reviewer gave here and there while discussing the movie that you didn't hear the door of your apartment being unlocked, or the soft footsteps growing closer to your bedroom door.

So blind were you to the outside world, that it wasn't until you felt cold fingers grazing over your shoulder that you became aware of the presence in your room. Startled, you jerked up, eyes landing on Jisung as he stood there with an almost sheepish expression if it weren't overshadowed but the dark circles under his eyes and you could clearly see just how exhausted he was. A pang of guilt bubbled up in your stomach and you really regretted inviting him over. You regretted all the dirty thoughts you had about what you would do to him if he did show up. At that very moment, you wanted nothing more than to lay him down on your bed and make him go to sleep. Would that leave you incredibly unsatisfied and most likely angry in the morning? Yes, but it would be worth it to make sure Jisung was getting sleep, even if only for a couple hours before he had to be up again.

"You came."

"I did." He flashed you a gummy smile that warmed your heart and you opened your arms towards him. With a soft sigh, he climbed into the bed and practically fell into them, head nuzzling against your chest as you both settled down. Running your fingers through his hair, you hummed softly while placing a gentle kiss to the top of head. "So, gonna tell me your dream?" he muttered and you couldn't help but giggle.

"I suppose so. You did come all the way over to see me~" you cooed teasingly. He snorted and lifted his head, eyes staring up at you curiously and you had to stop yourself from pinching his cheeks because he was just too damn cute. "I had a dream that I could make you cum in 3 seconds."

"Pfft, I wish. The amount of orgasms I could have during the day." he laughed and you rolled your eyes at him.

"I'm serious. All I had to do was get on my knees and you were instantly hard and two licks to your cock and you were cumming." You shifted under him, arms tightening around him with undisclosed desire and you buried your face into his shoulder. God you wanted him so much, that even just telling him the bare basics of the dream had you horny all over again.

"It would take more than two licks, kitten." he practically purred into your ear and you couldn't stop the whimper that left your lips. "But you are right, I would be so hard if you dropped to your knees in front of me." Daring to look at him, you pulled back. What greeted you was such an erotic sight. Even in the dim light of the room, you could see just how blown his pupils were, eyes staring so intensely at you that you physically shivered from the lust flashing through them. "Is that why you called me here? So you could blow me?" he asked, head tilting to the side.

"Uh...yeah?" You didn't sound too sure, but really that had been your intention - to get your hands back on Jisung's cock and be reminded of just how good he tasted. "Please?" You tacked on at the end, just for good measures. He smiled, swooping down into what was anything but a kiss. Your lips barely touched and it left you yearning for me. God damn it. He was such a tease. Pulling away, Jisung flopped over on to his back, arms moving to rest behind his head.

"Well then, have at it." The nonchalance of the situation only fueled your arousal and you were scrambling onto your hands and knees before you knew it. Moving between his legs, you reached up with one hand and palmed over him. His cock twitched slightly at the touch and you could feel it filling out the longer you stroked him. It was hot, you couldn't lie, watching the way it bobbed and lifted, tenting the sweatpants he was wearing. Leaning in, you mouthed at his dick, tongue running roughly against the pilled fabric. Soft groans filled the air and you glanced up, eyes locking with Jisung's hooded ones watching you. His lips were slightly parted and wet, another groan leaving them as your fingers toyed with the head of his cock. With a light touch, you pressed against the slit, grinning as precum soaked through, wetting your finger. Teasing just a bit more, you gathered more of the liquid before sitting up and bringing your finger to your mouth. 

You made a show of it, parting your lips and letting your tongue swipe against your fingertip, moaning lewdly while wrapping your lips around your finger and giving it a few sucks. There wasn’t much of a taste, but that really didn’t matter. You were doing this more for Jisung than for yourself and judging from the way he shifted on the bed, fists clenched tightly in the sheets, it was doing a great job riling him up. “Taste good, kitten?” You pulled your finger out with a pop, licking your lips as a feline-like grin spread across your face.

“Delicious.” Humming softly to yourself, you scooted closer to his body, fingers grasping his waistband and giving a light tug. “Your kitten’s hungry.” you pouted at him, laughter leaving him as he lifted his hips up enough for you to slide his pants and boxers down in one go. 

“Well we can’t have that, now can we?” he mused, raising himself up on his elbows. You gave a hum of acknowledgment, though your attention was currently taken by the beautiful cock that laid so proudly against his abdomen, head already a ruddy shade with a pearl of precum beaded at the top. Reaching down, Jisung wrapped his hand around his cock and gave it a few pumps, soft grunts leaving his parted lips. His thumb swiped over the tip, gathering what precum was there and held it out towards you. “Come on baby. Come and eat.” 

Tossing his pants over the side of the bed, you leaned over him and took the offered thumb into your mouth, tongue swiping against the slightly salty skin - licking it nice and clean. Sucking on it, you smirked at the small ‘fuck’ Jisung uttered before pulling off the finger. Shifting closer, you pressed your lips against his in a deep and heated kiss that lasted for only a few short seconds - a calculated move you made just to tease him for the barely there kiss he had given you earlier. Jisung whined, trying to chase after your lips as you moved away and you pressed your hand against his chest, pushing him back down onto the bed. Throwing one of your legs over his, you settled yourself over him, lowering down and running your tongue from the base to the tip.

“Oh fuck.” The moan he released went straight through you, your pussy throbbing more at the sound and the taste on your tongue. You were tempted to lower your hips down and rub against his leg, but you held back. While you wanted to get off, right now it was about him and fulfilling your dream in some capacity. You repeated the action a few times, stopping just short of the slit and watched with lidded eyes as more precum oozed out and slowly rolled down the side of his cock. “Babe, thought you were hungry?” It was a mixture of a whine and question, and did nothing except make Jisung sound absolutely wrecked and you hadn’t even done anything. Giggling to yourself, you gripped the base of his dick as you enveloped the head with your mouth.

You sank down slowly, tongue working flicking against any part of the velvety flesh that was filling your mouth. You took your time, stopping when you reached your limit and letting him just rest there, hot and heavy against your tongue. God, you had missed this so much, just being so intimate with Jisung. Fingers carded through your hair, tangling in the strands as Jisung breathed heavily, body tense and vibrating slightly with the way he was trying to stop the tremors coursing through him. “Y/n, fuck. Stop teasing and suck my dick.” You didn’t think it was possible, but Jisung sounded even more wrecked than he had before. Humming lightly around him, pulling a sharp hiss from him, you slowly began bobbing your head. Pulling up, you gave two hungry sucks against the head before sinking back down, tongue pressing and rubbing against the vein on the underside of his cock. It was easy to start a rhythm, spurred on by Jisung’s moans. The faster you moved and the harder you sucked, the louder he got and the wetter you became.

Jisung attempted to lift his legs and plant his feet on the mattress, but was stopped when his shin came in contact with your wet panties. Moaning around him, you rocked your hips down against him, whimpers filling the air as you grinded against him. His cock twitched and throbbed in your mouth, your eyes lifting to watch his face. Jisung had his head thrown back, eyes closed as he got lost in the feeling of your hot mouth around him. Every now and again his hips would twitch and try to lift, but he seemed to restrain himself which you were thankful for. You really weren’t in the mood to choke tonight.

Pulling off until just the head was between your lips, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked  while your hand stroked the rest of his cock. “Shit.” he hissed, back arching off the bed. “Fuck I’m gonna cum.” You moaned around him, hand picking up speed as excitement bubbled up inside you. Your free hand came down, fingers stroking over his balls and it was like you pulled the trigger. Jisung tugged harshly at your hair and you popped off quickly, lips parts as you pressed the head against your tongue. Jisung pulsed and throbbed in your grip as he came, long sticky strings of white coating the inside of your mouth and as you swallowed, you were surprised to find that it didn’t taste like the normally bitter cum you were used to. You made a mental note to thank whichever member you had to for helping to change Jisung’s diet for the better. 

You suckled lightly on the tip, milking the rest of the cum out of his body and when he whimpered at the overstimulation, you finally released him from your grip. Sitting up, you licked your lips clean, smiling down at Jisung’s panting form. “Mmm, thank you for the delicious meal.”

“Pleasures….all mine.” he nearly gasped out, letting out a stuttering sigh as he tried to control his breathing. “Fuck that was amazing, as always.” Weakly, he lifted his arms towards you and you crawled up his body and into his embrace. Snuggling against him, you pressed a gentle kiss to his neck, a content sigh leaving you as you let yourself settle down, arousal slowly fading. Jisung attempted to pay you back, his hands wandering lower, but you stopped him and at his confused look, you simply shook your head.

“Not tonight.”

“Seriously? I get a blowjob and you get nothing?” he asked, confused.

“Um, I got to give a blowjob? It’s all I wanted honestly.” You confessed with a shrug. “Next time though.” You left the sentence open, letting Jisung’s mind supply images of what you could do next time and while laying in the comforting silence of the room, halfway to dream land, you swore you heard Jisung mutter something about trying anal. But that was a conversation for another time.

Tags: @jisungsjheekies​ @starryseung​ @luminouskalopsia​ @runningonkpop​ @clandestine-lixie​ @straysrachaa​ @sauceracha​ @mrbangchannie​ (Tag info here! Come Join!)

[aegialia]

self-indulgent reflection on being on tumblr

so i recently hit 1000 followers on here and this blog has existed for almost exactly 8 years, so i wanted to ramble about tumblr and my experience of it for awhile. under the cut so definitely feel free to ignore this.

i started this blog right around when i was fourteen and had just started high school. at that point, i was out to my parents (and no one else) as bi, i had an inkling i was Struggling with something but i had no idea what and felt like i couldnt actually acknowledge it, and i had left leaning but very vague politics. tumblr definitely has shaped my journey around sexuality/gender/mental health/politics, both for good and for ill. 

for good: 

seeing other ppl talk about being lesbians helped me realize i could be a lesbian w/o being a traitor to the concept of bisexuality. hearing trans ppl talk about their experiences and explaining non-binary stuff and dysphoria helped me understand what i was going through 

i don’t like talking about my mental health stuff in detail on here, but suffice to say, i was Going Through it in high school. i’m still going through it now, but i am in a much better place (thank you medication and 7 years of therapy!). seeing ppl talk about the weird, dumb, awful parts of mental illness let me acknowledge that i was going through those things too, that i wasnt like evil for feeling like that, that i could change. people talking about adhd/autism was particularly helpful---being able to identify why i’d always felt like my brain just didn’t work right is the first step in the (ongoing) process of not hating myself for the way my brain works

politics is definitely the area where i think tumblr was the best for me. i got exposed to so many opinions i definitely wasn’t hearing in school, from intelligent, well-read people who could articulate theory in ways i could understand. tumblr didn’t give me my politics and i didn’t learn everything i know about theory from it, but the communities of people i was around pointed me in the right directions. tumblr was also a good place to learn how to react to criticism. this doesn’t seem to be most people’s experience, but getting called out over minor things on tumblr genuinely helped me learn how to take a step back, look at my behavior, apologize, and try to change, which, as it turns out, is a helpful skill irl as well

for ill:

wrt sexuality and gender, it’s probably pretty obvious someone who’s journey is ‘cis bi girl -> cis with a million different microlabels -> nb w a million different microlabels for both sexuality and gender -> nb butch lesbian who’s not super into romance’ would have some bad times on tumblr. the bi circles i was in made being a lesbian seem like an immoral choice, the ‘’’mogai’’’ (or whatever u wanna call them) circles made me feel like i had to divy up and perfectly label every aspect of myself in a way that really wasn’t helpful for me, the lesbian circles i was in made me feel like being a lesbian was about ending up in a monogamous butch/femme cottagecore relationship and that there was something wrong with me for not really wanting that. to be clear i think microlabels can be very helpful for people/a monogamous butch/femme relationship is a perfectly fine thing to want, they just didn’t work for me. im very very glad ive reached a point in my life where i dont feel the need to stay up to date on the latest discourse and am more focused on finding a way to exist that is comfortable for me and supporting my community irl. 10/10 would recommend to everyone

not going to get deep into it, but social media is. not good for my brain in general. i still enjoy using tumblr, but these days im pretty careful to step back from it frequently and treat it as an occasional hobby. 

the cons of political stuff on tumblr are probably also very obvious. there are some just awful discussions on here and the culture surrounding the way we handle bad behavior and justice and accountability and working to become a better person and make up for the harm you’ve caused has historically been fucking awful and trying to unlearn it and find new ways to engage with this stuff is exhausting. 

for all that i’ve changed over the course of having this blog, this blog has stayed pretty fucking static. i started out being super into diana wynne jones and the iliad and those are still two of my biggest interests and things i talk about the most on here. there are definitely specific things that have petered away (i started this blog almost entirely to keep up with good omens fan stuff and i pretty much haven’t touched it since the miniseries came out, i haven’t sought out pacific rim/supernatural/elementary/mcu content in years), but im still pretty much interested in the same things. i like relatively small fandoms, i like weird side characters, i like to be a grumpy child playing with my toys in the corner. when a fandom im in gets popular, i tend to stop engaging with it entirely (hello rqg/tma/good omens/enola holmes!). i dont think its a pretentious ‘i liked it before it was cool’ thing so much as a ‘people get Weird and awful when a fandom hits a certain level of popularity and there’s too much content and i really, really hate the bad faith arguments larger fandoms tend to spawn’ thing. i’ll consume content from big fandoms, but i pretty much refuse to actually engage with them at this point.

one of the stranger parts of my experience of tumblr is the social side. i’ve never really known how people make friends online---how do you go from liking each other’s posts and occasionally replying to them to actually being friends who communicate off social media? i’ve had conversations with ppl on tumblr and i’ve had sort-of friendships that are contained to tumblr where i’d like to get to know them better, but i’ve never figured out how to do that. my best friend’s job is pretty much to make friends/connections on the internet (she’s an activist and artist), my dad knows people everywhere in the world from twitter, and i’m just sitting here like a little old grandpa who doesn’t understand how you can have internet friends. 

at this point in my life, i’m fine with this, but this has made me feel real fucking bad in the past---like, if everyone online, even the ppl who say they’re weird and brainbad in a similar way to me, can make friends on the internet, what’s wrong with me? particularly in high school and my first year of college, when i was just horribly lonely all the time, it made me feel super disconnected and like there was something fundamentally bad about me. these days, i’m a lot chiller about it. i use social media to engage with stuff i enjoy and share my thoughts about it. it’s okay that my social difficulties extend to me not knowing how to use the internet to socialize.

on a somewhat related topic, it’s wild that i have 1000 followers. obviously, that’s not an actually super large number and a huge number of them are probably bots or inactive. if you post consistently for eight years and follow lots of people, like i do, it’s not a surprise to end up with this many followers. it is also, thankfully, the sort of followers that are not fans. probably most ppl following this blog dont remember why they followed and dont know anything about me or my interests. this sounds like its meant to be depressing but it’s not. i like that my way of engaging w the internet lets me do pretty much whatever i want and no one will care. the mere concept of being. like. tumblr famous in any capacity, even just in one community/fandom, is viscerally horrifying to me. 

i really enjoy the space i’ve created for myself on here. on one hand, going back through my blog is obviously embarrassing and full of hating my past self. on the other hand, i now have a very nice collection of things i enjoy in this blog. i like seeing what i’ve been interested in and (when i’m in a good mental health place) i like to be able to remember how i thought and talked about the things i loved when i was younger. im not at the place in my life where i can love a younger version of myself, but sometimes i can laugh at zir with a level of fondness. 

i’ve always been paranoid about sharing details about my life on here (and the fact that my parents have always been able to see it certainly contributed), so the version of jack on here is a carefully curated version, who’s super enthusiastic about the things they love, was very conscientious about apologizing and trying to do better when ze messed up, and tried to be polite to others. that’s a younger version of myself that i’m closer to being able to have compassion for than the version i find in essays and poems and memories. 

i’m starting grad school in ten days and i’m still using the blog i started when i began high school. tumblr has helped me in a lot of ways and hurt me in a lot of ways, but i still have to admit that it’s been a significant factor in shaping me. i’d be incredibly embarrassed to admit that irl, but it’s true. other than my family and like one friend, this blog is one of the only things that’s ‘known’ me since i started high school. i’ve changed so much in that time and im glad to have this weird little record of myself throughout those changes, even if i’d probably warn my younger self away from tumblr if i could go back in time.

tl;dr i have had a mixed experience on tumblr and i have mixed feelings about that experience. no idea if anyone read any of this very long, very rambling internet memoir

p.s. fun facts about this blog:

i’ve never changed my icon or blog title

i recently got a second version of the poster i got my blog title from. i chose my blog title by looking at what was hanging on the wall directly in front of me. 

my original url was gloomthkin. this was not, as you’d probably assume, an otherkin thing. i had literally no idea what otherkin was at that point. i’d just learned the word gloomth from a bill bryson book and thought it would be cool n edgy to be the child of the quality of gloom. i changed my url after i learned what otherkin was and realized everyone probably assumed something about me that wasn’t true which i hated (not bc i had an issue w otherkin, just bc i don’t like ppl thinking untrue things about me)

during my good omens days, i once sent a tumblr ask to nail guyman which, in retrospect, was kinda rude. i stand by the content but id never send an ask like that now. he replied to it privately in a way that so deeply embarrassed and shamed 15 year old me that i’ve never gotten over it. i still get nervous and embarrassed when i see anything about him or his books

[chemist-ana]

Day 18 of #101Smiles features a photo of Ana and Sam driving... its dark to set the tone for the ficlet that I wrote to go with the day, dark moods between these two tonight, way different than yesterday. To those of you that read these little authors notes- thank you, it means more to me than you know if you have gotten this far.

List of days here

Day 18- The Suburb Talk

Word Count: 980 but a relatively quick read.

Ana stares contemplatively out of the window, her chin resting on her fingers, the Harry Winston diamond on her finger sending rainbows of light around the cabin of the car. I know she can tell there is something wrong... I haven’t exactly said anything to her since we sat down in the Porsche together. How am I supposed to tell her that I am not ready to move? How am I supposed to tell her that the memories that penthouse holds are some of my most fond memories... memories of a past life, with another woman. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and take the exit for Rye, New York. The suburbs. I bite my cheek to hide the cringe that wants to creep across my face.

——

I watch the constant stream of buildings eventually turn into trees, and while I should be feeling excited... there is an unfamiliar pang of jealousy sitting in my chest. Who are you kidding? That pain that you saw in his eyes isn’t gone, it’s evident by the silence for the last 30 minutes of this car ride. I fight the urge to sigh... ‘This home... there are a lot of memories here’ does he miss Eva? I know he loved her... she’s the mother of his kids for fucks sake...

“Pull over.” The crack in my voice betraying my emotion and shattering the silence. Sam’s brown eyes dart to mine, but without a word, he pulls over into an empty parking lot. The silence returns, as we both stare out of the windshield.

Finally I turn to him, my eyes tracing the curves of his profile.

“Clearly we need to talk.”

——

I clench my jaw at her words… she’s not wrong, but I have no idea how I am going to tell her what I need to tell her. I turn towards her, and I can see tears welling in the corners of her emerald eyes.

“Ana….”

“What, Sam? Why are you acting like this?”

I turn back towards the front of the car.

“It’s nothing.” I lie.

“Don’t insult me, Sam. I know you better than that.”

I sigh and turn back towards Ana, the tears that were welling in her eyes now streaming down her face… fuck.

——

I promised myself I wouldn’t cry… yet here I am. His brown eyes search my face before he finally looks down at his hands in his lap.

“I don’t know if I am ready to move away from the city.”

“Oh.” Is all I manage to get out before I bite my tongue and turn my attention to the trees that line the parking lot we’re in, something that doesn’t exist in the city.

“What about the boys? What about the office? Ana there are so many things we need to consider before making this decision.” His tone even and neutral.

“Obviously we need to discuss this with the boys before we decide, but nothing has to change for them. They can keep going to Browning. We will be 30 minutes from the office. But Sam, I know there is something else you aren’t telling me.”

——

I run my hands through my hair before my fingers begin to toy with the Patek Philipe timepiece on my wrist as I think about how I want to phrase this next part, I can feel her eyes on me.

“That penthouse, it holds a lot of memories, Ana. Memories of a past life…”

“That you aren’t ready to let go of yet?” Her voice is quiet, and sad. “Look, Sam, I know you loved Eva, and I never want to get in the way of the memories you have of her, but don’t you think it’s time we start our life together?”

“Ana, you know how complicated this is for me.”

“No, Sam, I don’t. I am your wife, you aren’t supposed to be stuck in the past.” I can hear the anger building in her words, and when I look at her, red hot color has risen onto her neck.

“It’s the memories of the boys first steps, their first birthdays, loosing their first teeth, it’s not just about Eva.”

——

“But it is partly about her? How could you do this Sam?” My heart has started beating faster as my anger rises. I twist my fingers together in my lap, desperate to calm my racing heart.

Sam gently takes my hand in his and brings it up to his lips, brushing a kiss across my knuckles.

“Ana, baby… please don’t cry. My life revolves around you and our two boys. I never want you to think that I wish I was still with Eva. You are my world now, but that doesn’t make it easier to let go of those memories. Of course I want to make new ones with you. I guess I’m… scared.”

“Scared of what?” My eyes scan his face but his mask is tightly in place.

“Scared that if we move, the boys will forget about her completely. Scared that we move, I will forget about her completely.”

My heart sinks, would that be so bad? I ask myself, but I quickly shake the thought from my mind.

“How could you forget about her when you have Mickey and Mason? A gift she gave you.”

——

My eyes scan Ana’s emerald gaze as her eyes soften. What did I do to deserve you?

My fingers are playing with the rings on her wedding finger.

“I never want you to think I am not ready to have a life with you, I married you. I want to start a family with you, let’s just look at homes today, and talk to the boys tonight.”

“That’s all I ever wanted, Sam. We aren’t moving tomorrow, okay?” She tightens her grip on my hand.

“Okay.” I take a deep breath and lean over the console to give her a kiss.

tag list: @genevievemd @txemrn @thefrenchiemama @mainstreetreader @somersetmummy @shewillreadyou @itsjustwinter @lady-calypso @lucy-268 @jennieausten @melalicious8383 @pixie88 @kat-tia801 @sfb123 @nestledontheveone @gardeningourmet

[garfunclegaming]

The Doomed Dwarf--Part 2

Pre Fourth War, Stonetalon Mountains, Kalimdor

Dornheim brought his handaxe down with a moderate amount of force on top of the log of wood he had placed on his woodcutting stump. There was a distinct crack as sharpened metal split gnarled mountain timber into two even pieces of kindling. He paused for a moment to wipe the sweat on his bald, craggy brow.

The sound of crunching leaves garnered the Dwarf’s attention, and he turned to face the familiar sight of his Tauren daughter. Hannae was now just over twice the height of the Dwarf, despite the fact she was still an adolescent. The Dwarf smiled beneath his greying-black beard, momentarily dwelling on fond memories of when he could cradle his daughter in his hands. Even in the relative solitude of the high mountains, the years had their way of passing quickly.

“Welcome back, Little Hooves. How did the fur tradin’ go down at the Crossroads?”

Hannae approached her father with a weary expression on her face. “Don’t you think I’m a little too old for ye to be callin’ me that, Pa?” She asked with a tone of exasperation, but Dornheim quickly picked up on the fact that the moniker wasn’t why his daughter seemed upset.

“What’s the matter, Hannae?” He asked a question of his own as he set his handaxe down on the stump. “Did they give ye trouble again? Damned traders should watch their words if they want our furs.” He grumbled darkly beneath his beard.

Hannae sighed, rubbing her temples. “It’s not that, Pa. It’s…it’s the fact that I don’t know a word of my people’s language!” She spoke with growing despair. “It’s the fact that I have to use the Orcish ye taught me…and how everyone catches on to the way I speak.”

Dornheim scowled, shaking his head in disbelief. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with the way ye talk. If the buggers at the Crossroads don’t want our furs, then we’ll just have to take it to the Goblins of Ratchet, is all.”

“Pa…there is more to it than that.” Hannae tried to explain to her father. “I think I need…need to be with my people for a while.”

Dornheim’s indignant anger quickly turned to worried horror at that last statement from her. “Absolutely not.” He declared immediately, not missing a beat. “Ye do that, and they will drag you into some bloody useless war in no time, mark my words.”

“Pa…” Hannae sounded exhausted, having had this familiar argument with her father many times before. “I’m not a child anymore. I need to get out there, see the world, be with my people, learn my own language!”

“Nope. I ain’t havin’ any of it.” Dornheim began to stack the freshly cut firewood. “Now enough chattin’, help me with these–”

The nearly fully grown adolescent Tauren stomped over to her adopted Dwarven father, the ground quaking somewhat with each enraged footstep.

“You can’t keep me up in these damned mountains forever!” She screamed. A shocked Dornehim stumbled over a branch and tumbled backward into his stockpile of firewood.

Dornheim’s scowl turned into rage as he glared up at Hannae. “Then leave! I ain’t stopping ye!” He barked back. “But listen well. I spent over twenty years fightin’ their bloody wars. In the end, all it earned me was bad memories and dead friends!”

Hannae simply snorted, turning from her father to return to the path that leads down from the mountains. “At least you had friends.” She remarked coldly.

Dornheim sat and stewed in his rage and frustration until the heat of the moment passed, and a great wave of regret and sadness washed over him. He retreated into the log cabin he had crafted all those years ago for the two of them. On a ledge there was a stuffed toy depicting a Tauren warrior. Hannae’s favorite toy, one that Dornheim had made for her.

He cradled the toy with a gentleness rarely displayed by Dwarvenkind. Tears welled in his eyes and slipped down his cheek and soaked into his beard.

“My one good thing.” He muttered miserably to himself. “Please be safe…”