#IT WOULD JUST BE BORDERLINE DISRESPECTFUL IS ALL I’M SAYING

[c-duceusclay]

Listen, listen, listen, LISTEN

I love Imogen, Chetney, Fearne, and FCG, I promise I do

But if they show up at the eventual Bell’s Hells reunion like “looks at our pretty new clothes! We saved a bull! Chetney and Fearne had a threesome and FCG fell in love!” I am going to throw my laptop into the street at mach speed

[fushiguho]

Curiosity & the Poor, Unfortunate Cat ⭑.ᐟ

ᯓ★ Synopsis Toji Fushiguho — an absent father, a college dropout, and a panhandling loiterer who just so happens to be your father’s best friend. Obviously you have to fuck him... out of pity, of course.

Wordcount 4k

Warnings fem!reader, age gap, toji is kind of disrespectful but so are you, so much teasing it’s insane, toji has a filthy mouth (duh), rough sex, unprotected, spanking, abrupt ending, brat taming??

Author's Notes this was inspired by an anon request for toji as your father’s best friend which was so freaking fun to write (everyone say thank yew anonnnn) and this was supposed to be a drabble but i know no limits... i was also channeling a lot of my own desires here #needthat p.s. this blog is under construction, i’m in the midst of transferring my work from my previous account which was marked as explicit boooo :/

Your sheets ruffle as you discontentedly toss in bed, the silken fabric bunching haphazardly while you writhe, empty stomach caving in a ravenous hunger. Internally, you curse yourself, wishing you had eaten the dinner your father prepared earlier, but now, it’s definitely too late. You’re sure Toji has already scarfed whatever was left of it down into that perpetually endless gut of his. You’ve never stood a chance. Alas, you must eat, so with a groan of annoyance, you roll out of bed, padding to the kitchen on the hunt for satiation.

It’s the dead of night. The sacred time of day when nothing is expected of you. When everyone you have ever known is fast asleep and you’re all that remains. Darkness consumes the lifeless house as you shuffle across the carpeted floor. A night light that’s tucked at the end of the long hall flickers like a dwindling torch in the depths of a dark, endless forest. As you creep down the steep staircase, you sigh, taking notice of overhead microwave light already casting a soft, amber glow — there is someone else that too remains.

Toji.

“You can’t keep eating all of our food.” You huff, abruptly announcing your presence as you near the final step, observing the burly, sable haired man that raids your barren fridge. “I don’t even know why my father puts up with you.”

He smells your sweet, gourmand perfume before he even registers your voice. It’s utterly embarrassing how painfully his cock aches from a mere whiff of you, the sound of you. Unabashed, Toji shrugs, stuffing three, large strawberries into his greedy mouth, eyes narrowing on your pretty frame. “Your father loves me, sweetheart… couldn’t have raised your bratty ass without me.” His ravenous gaze lingers far too long, sharp eyes shamelessly flitting across your soft, exposed skin, sizing you up. “And hello to you too. What’s wrong with you young people? Does no one respect their elders anymore?”

“Oh, brother, here we go.” You grumble, bracing yourself for yet another fruitless lecture, arms crossing over your chest as you sit into your right hip. His keen eyes follow your subtle shift in stance. “And your son? Where is he?”

He scoffs. “With his mother, thank you.” Toji rolls his eyes, reaching for another strawberry. “You sure you don’t have homework to do or something? Always pesterin’ me. I’m old, damnit!”

“I graduated three years ago, thank you… though you can’t say the same,” you snide, rudely pushing past him to peer into the refrigerator, “and you're like forty-five… you should've gotten your shit together yesterday.” You add, growing progressively annoyed with his lingering presence. “Did you drink all of the milk again?”

“Heh, oh yeah. Whoops,” he goads, popping the p, “and I’m not that old, you brat.” He mumbles, esteem crumbling at your assumption.

He’s grown accustomed to your biting criticism, though in the beginning, he would almost always quarrel back, which inevitably led to the two of you in a needlessly heated and borderline flirtatious feud. Now, he’s learned to actively ignore your insults but god, he would only be lying if he said your petty, condescending remarks didn’t rewire the chemistry of his brain.

Alas, all he offers is another irritatingly indifferent shrug, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his scarred lips — his own twisted version of remittance. Toji doesn’t give a fuck, not one. He knows your father will replace it by the end of the week like he always does, so why should he?

It has been nearly a decade since your father has all too graciously granted Toji loitering rights to your childhood home. Never has he paid for groceries, for bills, for anything. He is penniless, indolent, and baselessly forthright, but god, is he the finest man you have ever known.

After both your father and Toji’s untimely and coincidentally synchronized divorces, the two have been inseparable ever since, wallowing in their shared pity together. During his unnecessarily messy divorce, Toji lost the house and your father was gracious enough to offer him a place to stay until he secures a stable job.

That was nine years ago.

Weirdly enough, Toji has known you the entirety of your existence, but not you his. From as early as you can remember, he was always just… there, but as time passed and you grew older, things changed; the way you thought about him changed. Before, you thought of him as just one of your father’s degenerate friends from undergrad who fell through the cracks. Today, that notion still holds, but now you want to fuck him, bad.

For years, you’ve imagined what Toji is like behind closed doors, what he would feel like, what he would fuck like. If he’s the type of man that plays with his food before eating it, if he even likes to eat his prey anyway. Maybe he’s the type of predator that prefers stringing his meals along, toying with and teasing them like some cruel, one-sided game and he’s got the unfair advantage. Either way, you don’t think you’d mind.

Countless nights you’ve found yourself sprawled apart with his name on the tip of your tongue. Bare, perspiring body bowing as you brainlessly fuck yourself against one of his sweatshirts that you snagged from the laundry he doesn’t do. There is no doubt that Toji has heard the desperate cries of his name that pour from beneath your paper thin door, your pretty whimpers so incredibly loud and slutty and all for him.

If he wanted, you’d let him have in the worst possible way. You would let him pry you apart and gut you out completely, leaving you nothing but a shell of your former self — drooling, stuffed, and defiled. The utter heinous things you’d commit for a mere taste of his skin is a direct contradiction of who you are and everything your father believes he’s raised you to be. You’re no angel.

Defeated, you close the refrigerator, a deep, irritated sigh dragging from your lips. This man is useless, you think. If not for his maddeningly beautiful face, you’d sock him in it, sending him tumbling to the floor so that you can finally mount him and —

“Do you wanna fuck? Is that it?”

A long, deafening beat passes. You swallow thickly. “… what?”

“You heard me. I asked if you want to fuck.” He reiterates, voice eerily calm as if he couldn’t care less about the proposition at hand. “You’re always so pissed with me, thinkin’ that’s maybe what you need... a good fuck, heh.”

His blatantly unprovoked inquiry is jostling you back into reality, because what? What the hell is wrong with him? Why did the question roll off of his tongue so quickly? So smoothly? As if it’s no big deal, as if this is just another one of his usual, overly prying questions. Is he serious?

“Toji, wha—”

“You don’t think I’m stupid, do you?” His head is falling to the right, a sleazy grin marring his slick lips. “You don’t think I see the way you look at me, sweetheart? Not a very discreet girl, I’ll tell you that…” a dark, gut wrenching chuckle rumbles from the depths of his chest, “maybe a noisy one though, hm?” He hums, quirking an omniscient brow.

Guiltily, your gaze is falling to the tiled floor, thighs pressing together as you mumble. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Sure.

He laughs again. “You’re not a good liar either,” he’s creeping closer, the warmth of his breath like kindle to a rampant flame, “but you’re a pretty little thing… you know that already though, huh?” A curious hand is creeping around your waist, slyly reeling you in, the redolence of his cheap, inebriating cologne permeating the sinisterly thick air.

You expel an audible breath, taking a cautious step backward, yet he follows, taking a larger step forward, a step closer. Your skin burns, cheeks warming with crimson. He’s too fucking close and he knows it. What if someone sees? You don’t think you can bear the consequences that’d unfold if your father were to ever find the two of you like this. He would kill Toji, then you, and finally himself for good measure.

But god, do you want to find out. When it comes to human nature, curiosity always seems to prevail and fuck, are you one curious cat. There is something innately deep and pressing within your soul that craves satiation. It yearns to be known, to be explored. A deep, perpetually endless hole that aches — it longs to be filled, to be stuffed. None of your peers can do that for you, you’re convinced.

Your dark, repressed desires are only concerning your stance on feminism, but you don’t care, that’s the very thing. You want to find out. You need that, undoubtedly. Is what they say about older men true? The thought lingers as you contemplate the looming proposition. Yes, he’s your father’s closest friend. Yes, he’s far older than you with a child of his own. And yes, your perpetual obsession is only growing increasingly worrisome by the ticking clock, but truly, who can blame you? Look at him.

“C’monnn, you won’t even look at me, doll?” He frowns, a big hand cupping your chin, pulling your gaze upward. “Thought your father and I taught you better than that, no?”

Another loud, incredulous breath escapes your parted lips. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, cunt drooling.

Just the sweet, innocent quaver of your voice alone makes his cock twitch. His plaid pajama bottoms growing near uncomfortable as the fat, mushroom head leaks against the dampening fabric. What’s left of his dwindling resolve is slipping from his fingertips when you’re finally peering up at him, the coy bat of your lashes so perfectly slutty. Pretty, pleading eyes all wide and glossed over with your evident lust. God, he knows you need it.

Toji groans, conflicted for half a beat before growling a strangled and defeated, ‘fuck it’ then, his lips are slotting against yours in a delirious, haphazard kiss. Large hands blindly creep around your waist, dragging you impossibly closer. “This… this is your fucking fault.” He grouses, warm tongue delving so shamelessly inside of your honeyed mouth, greedily licking his way to the source.

“Fuck me then,” you’re pulling away just barely and he can’t help but to follow, subconsciously chasing your fleeting lips, “make me sorry.” It’s quiet, breathless, your pretty lips ghosting his.

And maybe you shouldn’t have said that, but it’s still not too late to end this — to push him away and say no, this isn’t right. It’s not too late to head to bed and forget any of this ever happened, but the way he’s twirling you around to push you over the marble countertop might be a step too far and damn sure too late.

“Sweetheart, you’ll be so fucking sorry,” a singular hand is peeling your lounge shorts down, down, down your plush thighs until there’s nothing but a pool of silky fabric surrounding your ankles, baring your syrupy folds, “spread those fuckin’ legs for me like a good, obedient girl. Let me see how wet that sloppy pussy is.”

With your face snug against the marble, all you can manage is a weak, fruitless gasp of his name, the warmth of your frantic breaths condensing the frigid countertop. You’re craning your head to the side, rising to the palms of your hands to observe the burly man that looms behind you. Fuck, he’s going to kill you.

He simpers, trailing several, curious fingers from your swollen clit allll the way down to your visibly tightening hole which drools endlessly. Pearlescent gossamers of arousal cling to the pads of his fat digits, kissing his skin in a beautiful sheen of your bountiful essence. The warm, abrupt stretch of his careless fingers as they sink deeeeep inside of your slobbering hole is peerless, prying your jaw open in a pretty, guttural moan — so raw and primal and all for him.

“Thaaat’s it, let me hear you, girl… sound even prettier up close,” he’s leaning down to better observe your desperate wails of rapture, pressing his clothed cock against the rear of your bare ass in the process, “got me fucking my hand like an idiot to the sound of you. How rude is that?” His breath hot and laden with lust against the crook of your neck.

Another wanton moan is belting from your gaped mouth at his confession. You can hardly help the pathetic buck of your hips, weakly fucking yourself against the stocky hand that cups your pretty pussy. The gnawing stretch of his fingers set your skin ablaze and yet, it’s not enough. You need more.

“Just f-fuck me… please? Before he gets home.” God, you are so fucking cute, bottom lip quivering in… fear? Anticipation?

Toji frowns feigndly. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re scared now, sweet girl?” A warm, calloused palm is splaying across the thick of your hip, pulling you closer to the edge of the marble. “Sure doesn’t feel like it…” he taunts, dragging his fingers out of you to smear your prolific arousal between your swollen lips and the slit of your ass, soon bringing them up to your stupidly gaped mouth, “doesn’t taste like it either, huh?” He prompts you to taste yourself, his long, drooling digits hanging before your subconsciously parting lips.

And god, you could fucking cum right there, cunt throbbing embarrassingly around nothing but the fleeting memory of his fingers. You hardly have the time to loll out your tongue before he’s rudely stuffing his fingers into your warm, obedient mouth. A synchronous, drawn out moan echoing from both of your slacked jaws, yours muffled by his fat digits and his so careless and plainly conquered by his ineffable lust.

You hum contentedly around his thick fingers, cleaning your own arousal from them like the good whore he always knew you’d be. Drool spills from the corners of your lips and down his burly knuckles, coating his hand in an obscene mess of your sweet saliva. His fingers are deliberately creeping farther down your slutty little throat, forcing a proper gag from the pit of your core, more of your saliva consequently cascading down his palm.

Like the nasty slut he is, he’s pulling them out of your mouth, only to plop them inside of his own, sucking and drooling down those very digits, his cruel gaze holding yours. A guttural groan belts from the depths of his chest, sable eyes fluttering shut as he hums in satisfaction. Your mouth falls wide, jaw slacked as pretty little pants of incredulity pour from it, poor cunt aching in your ever growing arousal. What. The. Fuck.

“What? Nothing else to fuckin’ say, huh?” Those same fingers are running along your cunt once more, messily smearing the sinful amalgamation of married saliva. They’re sweeping across your swollen clit before slowly sinking back inside of you, preparing you. “Always talkin’ so much shit to me. Gonna shut you up real soon, sweetheart… swear to god.”

A stupid gasp parts your lips, stomach caving in arousal at the sound of him hastily slipping out of his plaid bottoms. A greedy hand is latching to the back of your right knee, pulling your leg up to pin it against the cool marble. The sight of your pretty pussy in all of her sloppy glory makes his cock twitch, the head dripping in sinful rivulets of pearlescent arousal.

You can barely stand the way he takes his cock into his fist, idly pumping his pretty erection, a slutty grin spreading across his scarred lips. From his girthy base allll the way to the fat, leaking head, he strokes himself, but not before swiping the pad of his thumb across the drooling opening, spreading his arousal down the expanse of his monstrous length. You fucked up. Royally.

“God,” you mumble, turning back around to stuff your face into the crook of your arm in utter horror, “god, I am s…so sorry.”

And he fucking laughs. Laughs at your apology; it’s loud and obnoxious and so clearly intended to piss you off because you’re not sorry, you’re scared and he knows it. He can see the way your body trembles atop the counter, drooling cunt shamelessly exposed with your leg hiked up so rudely. The way your big, pleading eyes widen in fear as he creeps closer. Even your futile attempt to scoot away when he begins to drag the head of his cock between both of your slutty holes, almost as if he can’t decide which to ruin first.

“Nuh uh… c’mere,” he nearly growls, impertinently pulling you back before him by the flimsy fabric of your night shirt, a disapproving grunt ensuing, “tryna run away from me, huh?” Two, large hands are groping the fat of your ass, brazenly spreading you apart. “Oughta’ teach you some fuckin’ manners… such a mean little thing. Hell’s wrong with you?”

The head of his cock rests so heavily against your sloppy hole, hot precum oozing against the mess of slick that adorns your pretty pussy. Toji slaps the dense head against your lips once. A droning, helpless mewl pours from your gaped mouth, only for him to do it again, and again, and again. A lewd and deafening plap! plap! plap! reverberates throughout the dimly lit kitchen, sticky gossamers of married arousal tethering you as one.

“Knew you’d have a pretty cunt,” he admits, briefly dipping the head of his cock inside of you, dragging a wanton whimper from your lips, “such a shame y’er so mean to me… would’ve had you like this years ago if not for that nasty little mouth of yours.” He’s sinking inside of you yet again, but only to pull out when he’s gone too deep.

If your father were to walk into this kitchen at this very moment, he’d be utterly appalled. Horrified. You’re writhing beneath him, hips bucking so sluttily against his teasing cock. God, you have never craved something so horribly in your life; you could just die from the sheer deprivation and it’s hilarious to him. He’s taunting you like it’s some cruel fucking game and he’s got the upper hand.

Again, he laughs. “Oh, you want it bad, huh?”

“Yes, fuck.” You growl, evidently frustrated.

“Awwww you mad, sweetheart?” He irritatingly coos, leaning down to press a wet, openmouthed kiss to the nape of your neck. “Is that poor pussy frustrated huh?” Another sloppy kiss between the valley of your shoulder blades, the head of his cock gliding between your glossy lips, spreading you apart. “Heh, she’s cryin’ for it, such a messy girl… drooling all over my cock like that.”

“Please,” it’s a broken, shameless plea as you crane your head, beautiful tears of desperation pricking your eyes, your pride somewhere so far gone, “pleasepleaseplease.”

A dark, breathy chuckle parts his lips, aching cock jerking against your awaiting hole. For years, he’s imagined you just like this — begging and crying for his cock like some insatiable whore. If anything, he’s denying himself; though, what’s left of his restraint quickly perishes at the sight of your sobbing hole tightening around nothing, kissing his shaft in a gleaming, warm mess.

He almost can’t help but to sink inside of you again, instead this time, he’s giving you everything, all of his twitching cock. The abrupt intrusion forces an incredulous gasp past your lips, a low, throaty groan dragging from his slack jaw in tandem. And just as he thought, your greedy pussy is swallowing his fat cock to the base effortlessly, almost as if it was hand tailored for you.

You’re fighting the gnawing urge to run — to clamber across the countertop and cower in fear, but you can’t fucking move. He’s got you pinned to the marble, a heavy hand at the rear of your neck, the other splayed across the thick of your hip, pulling you back onto his cock. It aches. The delirious stretch of his cock and how it steals your breath away, your mouth sagged, yet nothing is uttered. For once in your life, you’re speechless.

“Is this really all it takes, huh?” His hips are reeling back, the shiny essence of your arousal sheathing the entirety of his cock. “God, is this all it fucking takes to shut you up? A cock in this slutty little pussy, huhhh?” The bruising snap of his hips as he pummels forward nearly has you gushing down the length of him all too soon. “Answer me… and use your big girl words, c’mon sweetheart.” 

A loud, desperate gasp of air is all you can manage, bottom lip trembling as you attempt to say something, anything. The hand that holds your neck is threading throughout your mussed hair, forcing your gaze onto his and he can’t help but to laugh at your stupid expression — drool spilling from the corners of your mouth, thick brows knitted so tightly as your pretty eyes threaten to cross. Of course you can’t fucking speak, you’re drunk.

“My goodness, I wish you could see yourself… you’re so stupid on it,” he admires almost endearingly, a warm, mindless thumb grazing your bottom lip, “that perfect fucking face, god. You are so pretty taking it, such a goooood pretty slut for that cock, fuck.” The near possessive growl that belts from the depths of his lungs is like nothing you have ever heard — so filthy and shameless and ridden with his unbearable lust.

Toji is completely losing himself in the wet, endless abyss of pleasure that is you. Babbling nothing but loud, reckless praises, your pretty name spilling so willfully from his slutty tongue. He can hardly help the way he’s subconsciously jerking you back onto his cock. His big, greedy hands tighten so possessively around your pretty waist, meeting himself halfway. The obscene plap! of his achingly full balls beating up your quivering clit with each ensuing thrust.

“Thaaat’s it, you’re so good, that pussy is so fucking good… takin’ it soo deep for me.” He mindlessly blabbers, a large hand creeping beneath the thin fabric of your shirt, the calloused pads of his fingers sweeping across your soft, perspiring skin.

Every coherent thought you have ever had is long forgotten, poor mind completely barren. He’s the only thing you can hear, think, feel — the greedy hands that wordlessly command you, the warm stretch of his drooling cock as it wholly splits you apart. Even the fat, curious thumb that’s sinking inside of that other poor, neglected hole of yours is prying your lips open in a helpless mewl of pleasure.

“It’s sooo good… sooofuckingooood, oh my god.” You snarl, teeth bared and his jaw nearly unhinges — you sound so fucking pretty. “I love it, I love it, I loveee your c-cock.”

“Yeaaah, sweetheart?” He coos, heavy head deliriously falling back to dangle between his broad shoulders. “God, you needed this, didn’t you? Look at your hips buck like such a nasty slut.” A loud, ear splitting smack! lands against the fat of your ass. “Do you dream about it after you fuck yourself and cum all over my clothes, huh?” Another smack! to the other cheek, your poor cunt consequently squeezing down the base of his cock. “No fucking shame either.”

You possess half the brain to respond, not sure whether to shake your head or nod, too far gone to even make sense of anything anymore. Moan after unrestrained moan spill from both of your raptured tongues, the two of you sharing a few synchronous gasps of air or delirious cries of overwhelming pleasure. It’s the most debauched, yet utterly erotic thing you have ever experienced, but then, there’s a loud, roaring voice that’s stilling Toji’s hips.

“What the fuck is going on here?!”

Fuck.

© fushiguho.

[rocketqueen1989x]

important/ please read

so I’ve been seeing lots of ugly and disgusting comments about axl lately and I’ll be honest you all are just taking the piss now

I’ve been a fan of guns n roses for nearly 2 years now. i heard them when I was little but didn’t really listen to them . So for what I’m about to say you will understand why I’m so pissed off .

***

First off I just want to say is that the man is 62 YEARS OLD . 62 ! he’s not going to sound or look the same as he did in the 80s , 90s , early 2000s or 2010. axl has a rare singing voice as we all know and of course as he gets older it will be a little damaged.

I’d like you see you try and hit the notes he does , run around on stage for 2 or 3 hours a night , do the work he does , go to meetings all the time , deal with paparazzi, the media , the bullying , hearing what your own so called ‘fans’ think and say about you

secondly , of course he won’t look the same as he did back when he was idk 25 or 30. Idk if any of you were well educated but when you do get older your body , mind , your voice and your hair changes. literally everything changes

Idk if you guys would like it but how you feel waking up each morning for thr past god knows how many years to read that people think you’re ‘ugly ‘ , ‘fat’ , ‘not attractive no more’ ?

it’s literally borderline bullying. it’s actually fucking disgusting how you all think it’s okay to slander him like that in comments and all over social media where his family , himself , his friends and his true fans can see that

if you don’t like how he dresses , talks , sings , does things , say things or even how he’s got his fucking hair. just shut up and don’t say anything. it’s acc so rude and disrespectful it’s beyond me

[m4dm4yhem]

“ compare me to gwen one more time and ima whoop you into next week in front of all of new york ..” you had threatened.. just days prior to this event; it wasn’t even miles saying it to your face, you would find journal entries, tweets, instagram story posts of just the dumbest shit you could ever muster.. miles always finding some sort of way to compare you to gwen. you thought you had made yourself clear; yes, the threat was unnecessary but sometimes it’s the only way to tell these thick skulled guys not to do something.

a sigh escaped your lips as you were scrolling on twitter; mindlessly until you saw it.

‘ sometimes I’m surprised how quick my girl can solve math problems..but gwen could do it quicker’

your jaw dropped; and you looked at the comments; seeing ganke telling miles to take this down because of your threat, multiple comments from who you knew was miles’ best friend.. advising him that if he didn’t want to be so purple people thought he was barney..to take that tweet down; you sucked your teeth as you tapped on his profile; and scrolled down; seeing the tweet was now deleted and replaced with a picture of you with

‘ I love my girlfriend!’ you liked the tweet; and commented under it; ‘ I love my boyfriend! :3’ just to throw him off; as you slammed your phone down on the bed; grumbling curse words to yourself as you pulled on a hoodie; and some jeans with a belt around your waist ; you slid your feet into some slides and made your way to miles’ home. while you never wanted to hurt the boy you loved; this had to be borderline cheating.. right? comparing you to a girl he used to love.. were you gonna take that disrespect? hell no.

his mother had made you a key.. seeing how serious the relationship between you two was; while you weren’t gonna use it.. because you were gonna wait for him to come outside or see you.. if it took too long you sure were gonna use it.. but you found there stood another spider person.. standing right below miles’ room; talking to him? you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion; as you called out to him;

“ miles?” now.. you had seen gwen before, but the two of them kept you in the dark enough for you not to know that she was spider-woman and he was spider-man. his head turned to you and he gasped; “ [name]! oh..uh what are you doing here?” his words were full of panic and his face looked the same way his words felt; you nodded you head; as you shrugged; “ here to see my boyfriend.” your tone was deadpan as you stared up at him.

that’s when the spiderwoman that was standing right below miles’ room window began to freak; “ w-what? miles you have a girlfriend? you didn’t say that! why were you drawing me if you had a girlfriend!” “ gwen-“ once miles let the name slip he knew he messed up; he bit his lip and shut his eyes as he knew you heard him; but when he opened his eyes you weren’t down on the ground like you were moments previously; “ where did she..?” his eyes searched for you around where his eyes could see;

“ did you see where she went?” he yelled down to gwen; who looked around as well; and even swung around nearby buildings; when she swung herself back into miles’ room; she shook her head; taking her mask off. “ no..” gwen couldn’t even look at miles. “ why…why do you have a girlfriend if you aren’t-“ she started before you kicked the door open; belt in hand.

“ i warned you! you better act like you got some damn sense next fucking time!” that’s when the belt first made contact with his skin; and he let out a yelp; and the burning pain kept coming; anger in your eyes; yells of pain and pleas for you to stop coming out his mouth; you did; only having hit him with the belt a smooth five or six times; gwen stood there in shock; she couldn’t believe you had just did that; her first instinct was to go to his side to ask if he was okay; but she stayed in the place she was; an awkward look on her face

“ bet you won’t say gwen can solve a math problem quicker than me now.. bet you won’t say I could never pull off gwen’s hairstyle now.. bet you will never.. say some slick shit out your mouth again!” you kept yelling at him; as you threw the belt to the ground; as it was his in the first place; that you had stolen in order to wear his jeans when you had spelled soda on your own at a barbecue months prior.. the words you threw at him were only the most minor things he had said to you over the months.

and then you kneeled down next to him; as he was groaning, he was bruised a bit here and there but nothing he couldn’t walk off; “ you good?” you asked as you helped him to his feet after that; miles gave a weak nod as he winced; a hand on his lower back, and an embarrassed look on his face as he knew gwen had witnessed that; “ yes..yes..” he mumbled out; you nodded and looked him up and down; “ next time I see something about you comparing me to gwen.. you not only getting your ass whooped worse than what I did today.. but you gon be single too.” you warned; honestly..gwen was surprised you didn’t break up with him then; but the girl felt out of place.

“ uhm…miles.. im.. gonna..” she gestured towards the window; “ yeah..” and then she left; you raised an eyebrow as you watched her leave; and rolled your eyes, “ hope I didn’t..hurt you too bad.. you know I still love you.” you spoke softly; turning your attention back to miles.

he gave a soft nod; “ yeah.. I know..” the beating wasn’t anything he hadn’t already endured; but it was just a shock coming from his girlfriend; “ …im really sorry for doing that [name]… comparing you to gwen and all..” his guilt was there in his voice and you nodded; “ okay.” was all you said as you forced him to sit down on his bed. “..okay?” he repeated back to you, confusion in his tone. “ yeah..okay..you don’t expect me to forgive you do you? im gonna make sure you good.. and then I’m dipping.. the fuck..? you still my man and all.. but we not gon be on cool terms for a minute because of what you did. I need space.” you spoke; checking over miles once more, before you honored your words.. and left.

[dehydrated-for-donghae]

Headcanon: Spitting with Super Junior

more Eunhyuk Mango GIFs here word count: 978

I don't have an explanation for this ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it just sort of happened. Whoops, oh well, what a shame.

No Ryeowook, 'cuz he's married.

Leeteuk

Colour this mother hen shocked. Why on earth would you want him to spit on you? But then… if it comes up organically, perhaps in the form of a strand of saliva linking your lips after a particularly ardent kiss… he’ll be curious enough to try it. Nothing too hardcore, he’s definitely not going to spit in your eye, probably a good thing that doesn’t sound too sexy but his lips do look luscious when he lets you treat your tongue like a lipgloss. So lick away and be prepared for some very messy (borderline feral) making out. His mouth isn’t the only thing that’s going to end up soaked.

Heechul

You would have to be out of your motherfucking mind to think this would go well. No.

Yesung

Okay I’m just going to say it. Yesung is filth. It doesn’t always have to be kinky fun times, vanilla is always available and on the table. Yesung is an excellent lay either way. But… my question is, why? Why would you pass up a chance on the spicy stuff? He’ll pin you down, or tie you up, get you in whatever position that you’re most comfortable with, and then he is going to go to town. He’s going to soak your skin, mouthing you all over until it looks like you’ve been swimming. He’ll spit hard if you ask him to, but he’s just as happy to let his drool and gravity work it out between themselves. And when he’s finally fucking you, leaning back with your legs wrapped around his waist so he can watch your whole body stutter on his cock, he’s going to look you in the eyes while he lets his spit drip from his perfect mouth directly onto your already-overstimulated clit. And, even better, he’s a switch. He’s more than happy to spend all his attention on you, but if you take charge… it is going to get messy. Good thing he’s got an excellent recovery rate.

Shindong

I can’t see him being into this. I’m not saying Shindong isn’t kinky or maybe I am, I just can’t see him enjoying this. Maybe it’s because he’s often cited as one of the unattractive members of SuJu, and I’m not gonna take on K-beauty standards here, but I am saying he deserves to be treated like the king he is. So no spitting on Shindong please. (Unless I’m completely wrong on this and you experience the fangirl fever dream of actually meeting him/winding up in his bed, and he asks you to spit on him. In which case, my bad).

Eunhyuk

Oh yeah, Eunhyuk is definitely into this. The merest suggestion of spit puts him straight on the “Ohgodyes” train “Fuckmenowville”. So lick the shell of his ear in public, maybe disguise it as a kiss when you are having a meal together with the whole team, and reap the benefits when you get home. Those benefits including: being thrown against a wall as soon as the door closes, getting your clothes ripped off, and swapping spit for the next two hours while getting railed in every position Eunhyuk can think of. And he's a creative guy so... lucky you.

Siwon

Generally, no. I think he’d find it too disrespectful to you. And he’d just be confused if you spat on him. He might even get mad about it, once he gets over the shock. But then again… if you can get him really riled up, maybe by teasing him relentlessly when you have to be in public all day… You don’t even need to touch him (in fact, it’s better if you don’t). Just keep catching his eye. Keep your fingers near your mouth, rest your hand on your chin, tap your lips thoughtfully (but give him bedroom eyes). Make an exaggerated show of licking your lips with your mouth open just enough to stretch it around his dick… yeah, that could distract him enough that he’d fumble his words mid sentence. And if you manage to make that happen while he’s doing an interview… you better be prepared for Dark Siwon™ to make an appearance. And Dark Siwon™ has no limits.

Donghae

If you can get him to spit on you, he’s going to try so hard to stay serious. Think missionary, him resting on his elbows above you, letting his spit drip into your mouth. Yeah, he’s gonna manage that for about five seconds before bursting into giggles and hiding his face in your neck. He’ll get better with practice, if you want him to. Once he’s used to it, if he’s feeling particularly submissive… he’s too shy to ask for it outright, but you can coax the request out of him. You’ve gotta be gentle though, no heavy degradation this is not Yesung we’re talking about. So tie him up with something soft (think dressing gown belt, or even a twisted up bedsheet), straddle his waist, and let your drool drop onto his face. Make sure you tell him how good he’s doing and how much you love him, because there will be tears. The kind that comes with a raging boner and lots of little hip thrusts, trying to find some kind of release. (Your aftercare better be top notch, or I will come for you, and they’ll be finding bits of you for months.)

Kyuhyun

Absolutely not. No. The only time spit gets involved with Kyuhyun is when he’s desperate for sex and you only have ten minutes, so he needs to slick up quick. It is really hot though, the way he spits into his hand and coats his cock before shoving it in you, with none of his usual teasing or taunting. Definitely worth getting him all riled up before a schedule or a show. Bring out his needy wild side once in a while, and cum so hard you see stars.

masterlist

[ihidemydemons20]

You know I’ve seen some people say that JJ’s ending and the plot line wasn’t bad writing and it’s just a sad ending, and that’s why people don’t like it. That JJ was a sad character and was supposed to have a sad ending so it made sense and I’m sorry but no!

If they needed JJ to die there are ways it could have been done well.

For starters saying that JJ is a sad character who was of course going to have a sad ending is such a cop out, not only is it poor writing it’s borderline disrespectful to the fans who love the character and worse the real life people in similar situations. Like if this show is lighthearted fun then JJ shouldn’t have needed to die and if this show if supposed to reflect real life then maybe have some respect for people who actually endure abusive childhoods and not tell them the only ending is bad.

But if they absolutely had to kill JJ (whether it’s because of on set issues or an actors request or even just needing to set up season 5) there were ways to do it without doing whatever the hell we got.

It’s simple, the Pogues should have found the crown and made it home, with Groff in tow so they can hand him off to Shoupe to clear their names and have JJ inherit the Genrette fortune, which would both get them a great lawyer to help Pope and would mean they can save the Cut and stick it to the Kooks. Have the season start wrapping up looking so happy, Sarah and John B happy in the early stages of pregnancy. Pope, Cleo and his family united and bonded after some emotional conversations, JJ and Kie actually acting like they’re in a relationship and maybe even her parents coming around (why set up the scene with Mike if that wasn’t the plan?) . Then in the last five minutes have the mercenaries show up, steal the crown out of police lock up and maybe even bust Groff out since maybe he called the mysterious ‘Finch’ and convinced him he could help them make a big score then have them kill JJ. The Pogues would still get their emotional motivation to hunt down Groff but JJ would at least get a proper story arc and closure.

JJ had no moment of triumph, who cares that they found the crown? We learnt about it like five episodes ago and it doesn’t do anything? Why have the entire Genrette storyline if it’s going nowhere? Why have JJ say he already got his wish when that’s not at all what we’ve been show in the second half of the season. Most of time the Pogues were mad at him (even when he was struggling and it felt very forced to have them not understand why he’s so messed up) and he and Kie had no moment of romance, barely friendship. So how did he get his wish? He didn’t get anything in this season or really any of the other seasons for us as an audience to feel satisfied.

This was bad writing plain and simple. There were ways to write around or through the actor leaving and it seems like they just phoned it in out of pure laziness or worse apathy. The team behind this decision deserves all the backlash they’re getting right now.

[artsimpourtzi]

Zendaya is probably one of the few people in Hollywood who could fund and only star in stories told from a POC perspective with a WOC director, yet so far she has chosen not to. I’m sure she will, at some point. In my mind she will stretch even more in her 30s. The sky is the limit for her and she keeps talking about working until she’s 80. I would just like for people to stop saying she doesn’t have any other opportunities or that lead roles aren’t being offered to her and act like these aren’t choices she’s making. It’s borderline disrespectful to her and all of the other people who truly don’t have opportunities in Hollywood.

And before anyone comes for me, I do agree that Tom needs to work more on ensemble movies. That’s why we fantasize about Peaky Blinders, Knives Out, etc. even more theater work would be great for Tom.

.

[bambimeadows]

You guys. I’m trying to psyche myself up to write something, but the demotivation is fucking real. Let me vomit out some headcannons for you instead, about his kids. This will be long and elaborate and poorly written because I’m just thinking aloud so be warned. And yes I am putting way too much thought into this, I don’t care though 😭

- Okay so I’m sticking with what I originally wrote in my fic, he has 3 kids.

- An older son, a middle daughter and then a younger son that he and his wife had later shortly before their divorce. Going off Black ops Cold War time setting (I don’t want to think about him with adults kids yet that’s not as fun sorry), I’d put their ages at 15 (oldest son) 12 daughter and 3 for the younger son.

🏈Okay so, his eldest son is kind of an ass.

- Cocky, arrogant, acts up in class, attitude problem, bordering on apathetic to a lot of things, he can be prone to doing some light bullying - let’s say nothing too severe - maybe he’ll make a joke at someone’s expense here and there to make his friends laugh, and he prioritises and loves playing football, that’s the only thing that catches his interest at school. He’s the quarterback and essentially just that intimidating popular boy at school. That whole cliche.

- He upsets his mother from time to time, he doesn’t really listen to her. He has more respect/fear for his dad. So when Adler comes home it’s down to him to lay down the law and get very stern. (Yeah very old fashioned and borderline misogynistic I know but back in those times…)

- Adler gets very pissy at his son for disrespecting his mother and completely takes her side. He’ll give him a fiery lecture and telling off at first but then maybe later he’ll sit down with him and talk to him more calmly while alone with him, or while they’re tossing a ball around or taking a drive out somewhere.

- secretly Adler’s thrilled that his son’s a big football star at high school (like he was) and doesn’t really see the issue in him being more interested in that over his studies, but to keep up appearances he tries to underline the importance of doing well in class, he just doesn’t really feel genuine doing so because god knows he didn’t try in school. He does get serious about it though under his ex wife’s demand, he’ll ground his son to force him to study or confiscate something until the grade improves.

- the flaws and negative traits he sees in his son, he recognises as being exactly his own when he was his age, and honestly he still has them leftover as an adult, so he relates to him heavily and despite getting frustrated with him, he understands him a little too well. He can tell what he’s thinking, he knows why he acts the way he does sometimes.

- his son is also his carbon copy looks wise. They’re almost identical. Everyone says so.

- they could talk for hours and hours, about football, cars, stereotypical man stuff (?) idk. He’ll begrudgingly open up to his dad, he doesn’t always like the responses Adler gives him but he’ll reluctantly admit it does help him to talk about it with him, because he’ll usually make a lot of sense. It could be about the arguments with his mother and sometimes his sister and that living with a 3 year old is annoying. Adler will try to understand and sympathise with his grievances but hammer down on the importance of respecting them all and guilt trip him about the importance of family and that his mother, sister and brother love him very much. He’ll open up about girls and Adler will be vaguely alarmed by what he’s hearing sometimes, he’ll firmly tell him he needs to slow down and not break their hearts, because if some girl’s dad shows up at the door looking for a fight it probably wouldn’t end well. He knows what he would do if some little shit disregarded his daughter’s feelings. He also knows he was a little shit to girls too.

- he bribes the school board and manipulates teachers and staff etc to get his son out of trouble for a bad grade or disrupting class or skipping it altogether. He even pulled strings with the local police department for some trouble his son got into once lol, but of course handled it in his own way, yelling, threatening, making him do some community service anyway, confiscating game consoles etc. But NEVER agreeing with his ex wife’s suggestion that they stop him playing football for a little while, he’ll always come to his defence for that of course, much to her eye rolls and shakes of the head.

- despite their differences, Adler’s son knows his dad is a badass, he knew early on he was quite different to all the other dads, he absolutely idolises him and lives his adolescent years hoping to grow up to be just like him in every way, Adler prays he doesn’t.

- For context, Adler has given his kids a cover story about his job. Something about international relations let’s say, but the older ones know there’s more to it, but were (perhaps unfairly) taught by both parents that questioning it is a taboo subject.

- His son understands there’s a lot of things his dad can’t tell him about his life away from them, he knows he’s been lied to from a young age, but feels he’s been lied to so much and that they’re so deadset on keeping the reality of the situation from him that he’s been worn down into not caring what the truth is. All he knows is they obviously live a pretty good life from it so maybe he should just be grateful, or so he tells himself. Adler’s lies and excuses for injury and being away for months are now simply met with a deadpan “… sure dad.” and nothing else is said. Adler knows his son thinks he’s full of shit.

📚🎀🐴 Now let’s see about that daughter of his, this doesn’t come to me as naturally

- I think she’s a lot better behaved, like insufferably perfect, a swotty know-it-all to the point it can unnerve people, even teachers. She’s that kid that the parents of other kids roll their eyes at and get insecure about and wonder why their child isn’t more like them.

- she’s just very demure, very mindful

- No but seriously she’s top of the class always with a special interest in science, copious amounts of extra curricular activities, she’ll do Girl Scouts and all of that stuff and have endless amount of friends and people wanting to talk to her, except she tries her best to be sweet and doesn’t use her social standing in school to go on power trips like her brother might, rather she uses it to help people. Although, I’d say that’s probably only half genuine and more to keep up an image of perfection. She can be a little sly and devious, she just never gets caught in doing so. She’s sporty like her brother and father, she likes cross country and horse riding.

- she’s a daddy girls too. She misses him a lot and wishes he could be around more, but much like her brother she prefers to keep that to herself. She came to terms that this is just how life is for their family and eventually stopped asking her mother if she knew when he’d be back or where he was, she realised she doesn’t know either. Adler’s daughter is horrified when he comes back with an injury, and soon understood that he is out doing really dangerous things despite her parents acting like nothings wrong, this does instil some anxiousness in her and keeps her up at night when he’s away. She’ll lay in bed, shut her eyes, cross her fingers and whisper pleads to God to bring him back safely. She also keeps these worries to herself for the most part, happy to keep up a facade to keep the peace and would rather her time with her father be focused on happiness and him giving her attention, she fears she might push him away if she prys. One time however, she went to her brother’s room in the middle of the night, woke him up and asked him if he was ever worried their father was going to die. “Whatever he’s fighting out there, he’s stronger than them, nothings taking down that old bastard,” his brother had told her with a little smirk. They’re bonded from the knowledge that their parents are keeping secrets from them.

- her pitfall is, because she’s a perfectionist, she doesn’t deal with failure and things going wrong rationally. A “B+” on a maths quiz is worthy of tears, an impassioned argument with the teacher and locking herself in her room to study obsessively.

- Neither Adler or his ex wife pushed her to be this way, sure they’ve tried to instil in their children that they need to work hard in school, but never to this extent. she just decided this was who she needed to be, but in reality one of her primary reasons is that she wants to make them proud, call it middle child syndrome.

- Adler of course doesn’t take it for granted how amazing and hard working his daughter is and is constantly impressed by her, he thinks himself very lucky and blessed. He’ll never fail to praise her at every turn even if success is predictable at this stage and she’s the one he’s most likely to break out into a smile for. She’s his pride and joy! (*cough* his favourite *cough*)

- he only says her name on the very rare occasion he tells her off, most of the time it’s “princess” or “sweetie”.

- He spoils her accordingly, he finds it harder to know what to buy her as she starts to grow up and doesn’t really like playing with Barbies and dollhouses anymore, so he waits for her to ask for something, and she has absolutely no issue with doing so. You could say she might take advantage of her father’s generosity towards her sometimes and she knows how to tug on his heart strings if the request is quite extravagant. As she should! He bought her a pony, deadass.

- sometimes she’ll still ask him for help with homework if he’s around, knowing that she knows the answers better than him anyway. But she’s aware she’s a hands off sort of child and finds any excuse to spend extra quality time with him or make him feel needed. He secretly knows and plays along accordingly, his frosty heart melting at the gesture every time.

- she’s very princess-y and prim and proper and girly, she has a different coloured hair ribbon for each day of the week.

👶 Okay now let’s talk about the baby.

- he came as a surprise. Definitely. Maybe at first not a most welcomed one. There was talk of terminating the pregnancy but they ultimately decided against it.

-Adler never thought he’d be more or less 40 chasing a toddler around, but oh how he turns him to mush and now he couldn’t imagine his life without him.

- when the three kids come to stay at his house, a lot of the time is spent with the youngest sat on his lap or up in his arms. But that’s more down to Adler not trusting him to wander off and cause mischief in his immaculately clean apartment. And that little guy loves nothing more than being on his dad shoulders or in his arms, he feels so sturdy and high up!

- Adler can’t render himself to be all silly and goofy to keep the kid entertained all the time, but he is patient and spares all the little smiles and chuckles for him and his antics. He does of course have a completely different side he has to force for such a young child and isn’t above playing around with him and letting himself ease up a little.

- He’ll just be on the floor playing with his toys and Adler will be watching from the couch with a little upturn of his lips, always endeared but also sometimes still not quite believing he has a child that age, he can’t believe that just a few days ago he was out the country putting bullets into people’s skulls and now he’s here watching his baby boy race cars round the carpet of his living room.

- Days together usually end with them cramped up on the young boy’s bed together with Adler reading him a bedtime story, he’ll reluctantly put on the right silly voices for the characters as he reads and is rewarded by the laughs and smiles which makes him smile too. Adler will quietly leave him to sleep when he inevitably dozes off, but you can bet most nights he’s being woken up at 1 in the morning with a request for a drink or stories about monsters being under the bed, Adler deals with it very patiently and logically and gently explains to his son that monsters aren’t real and he’s fine. He’ll grab a torch and take his son’s hand and walk him back to his room, and they’ll look under the bed together for the monsters just so he can see they’re not there. Some nights Adler relents and with a sigh let’s him get into bed with him.

- Adler is surprisingly good at dealing with tantrums, he’s able to shut himself off from the screaming to become stoic and unmoved by it, this can leave the toddler slightly puzzled as he’s use to his mother quickly swooping in to baby him when he sounds off. Adler is quietly patient in calming him down and waiting for him to stop. He never really loses his temper or snaps at him in these times, but he doesn’t believe he should indulge it either. He’ll still give lots of hugs once the kid’s ceased screaming his lungs out.

- He is the one Adler feels the most uneasy about. He worries for all their safety, but the fragility of such a young child scares him sometimes. He wonders if it’s better or worse for him to be so young while he himself is caught up with life threatening situation constantly. On one hand if Adler died tomorrow, the boy might not even grow up to remember him or be that sad about him vanishing, on the other hand, he’d never really know what it’s like to have a father. He also feels as if he’s missed out on so much of his growing up and forming a bond with him has certainly been harder, but he’s mostly satisfied that he’s managed to.

- the young child was of course the hardest part about him and his wife’s divorce. He was 1 years old when the divorce was finalised. When she first told Adler she was divorcing him, he thought she was crazy wanting to raise a baby separated, he asked her if she was sure she didn’t want to wait until the baby was a little older and whether she really wanted to do it while living without him. Her response, “I more or less do that now anyway, Russell.” Knife through the heart of course.

Shall I do more like this? Maybe for his ex wife or maybe what domestic life was like before the divorce? 💕

[like-a-bantha]

Sleep Study

Summary: When there's no time for piloting lessons, you suggest a sort of learning-by-osmosis experiment to Tech. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Tech/GN Reader (No Y/N)

Rating: T

Warnings: Language, not beta-read

Word Count: 6.2K

AO3 | Masterlist

Now, this might sound weird – maybe even a tad disrespectful – but bear with me.

I’ve recently begun piloting lessons with Tech and I couldn’t ask for a better teacher. He knows, while I am a proficient mechanic, I’m a total novice when it comes to actually flying, and the man deserves a medal for his patience with me. I’ll ask the same question five times and he only gets mildly agitated around the third, but he’s always been understanding. Not everyone can be a certified genius, after all.

So lessons have been going pretty not bad, I’d say; it’s the workload that’s been causing problems. Cid’s got us going from job to job with almost no breaks. Lately we’re lucky if we get half a rotation to stop and refuel, let alone catch our breath. We’re all exhausted. We’re all on edge. It’s gotten to the point where we’ve had to put a pause on the lessons for a few days just to keep up with general maintenance on top of the back-to-back missions. Thankfully, in those few quiet moments where we can get to that maintenance, I’ve been able to sort of keep up on my lessons thanks to Tech’s rants. And maybe, for whatever reason, my brain decided these rants were incredibly soothing on one particular sleepless flight. And maybe, who knows why, I may have fallen asleep just a bit. It didn’t seem like Tech was angry, or even upset. He was almost apologetic when he gently nudged me awake.

Today, after landing on Ord Mantell for an incredibly brief pit stop, Tech and I work in silence below the ship. He’s been quiet with me since my last accidental nap and I just can’t figure out how to voice how sorry I am without sounding — I don’t know. Disingenuous? And if I’m honest, how do I avoid sounding like a total creep? But we’re just working next to each other, neither of us saying a word, and it’s nice but it’s not us and there’s this massive knot in my gut saying well, it’s your own fault, don’t you remember? 

This silence is awfully comfortable. It really would be such a shame if something were to change that.

“Hey, Tech,” I jumped in without a plan and I’ve given up hope on this being eloquent in any way, at this point I’ll be glad if my question is at least somewhat coherent, “I’m sorry about,” I trail off a bit, I don’t want to finish that sentence actually, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I just, I had this idea — weird idea — and maybe a request? Feel free to shoot it down, I mean, if it’s too much. Would you mind sending me the audio files of your lessons? Sorry, just, they’re really interesting but also relaxing and, and, maybe it can be a sort of experiment, y’know? If I fall asleep listening will I retain the information? Strange idea, sorry.”

Tech stares blankly, and when I turn to meet his gaze after giving myself a moment to reboot, he continues to stare blankly. His head is just barely tilted, and he wears a look somewhere between genuine confusion and borderline concern. With a slight shake of his head he finally responds, “Forgive me, I’m afraid I do not follow.”

If only there was a way to smash your head into a wall a few times without doing any real damage. I’d kill for that right about now. I could’ve just kept my mouth shut but no. Real bang-up job on my part.

“I, uh, I fell asleep the other day because – well, because I was tired, mainly – I don’t know, I just find your voice really soothing? Like, everything’s been really chaotic lately but listening to you talk about paralight systems made it,” I take a deep breath, no going back now, “ah, it made it a lot less chaotic. Like everything was quiet for a minute. Safe.”

Another long exhale. Tech’s still silent, processing, but his brows are raised now and his eyes have gone a bit wide behind his goggles. I can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing just yet. It’s probably best to go against my gut and keep my mouth shut for a few minutes, but now the minutes feel longer than usual. Karked this one up a bit, I think.

“So you would like the audio files to… study?” I nod before he even finishes his sentence. “Or will you be using them to fall asleep?” I’m still nodding and it certainly isn’t helping his confusion at all.

“Both?” I shrug.

He raises his gloved hand inquisitively to his chin, and his face is blank aside from the visible pondering, and now I’m really starting to think I’ve karked it all up. I could’ve put more thought into it, taken my time both in the apology and easing him into the idea of sharing his pre-recorded knowledge, but instead I sloppily tossed all my cards on the table knowing I had a shit hand. And not just any shit hand, no, it’s an alarmingly weird hand. Just as I’m about to start spewing apologies his hand drops slightly from his chin, index finger extended, “An interesting experiment indeed. I shall transfer the files of our previous lessons as well as my own personal recordings.”

Huh.

Wait. “Personal recordings?” Why do my ears feel warm?

Luckily for me his face is buried too deep in his datapad to notice the tinge of red creeping up my neck. “Yes, before you joined our squad and long before our schedule became so hectic, I kept an audio diary of sorts. Detailed accounts of my findings on missions.”

“Cool,” Yes, I can feel how wide and dopey my grin is but I’m still riding the high of my botched opener somehow working and couldn’t care less. “I feel like I remember seeing you telling a bug facts about itself way back when I met you guys. Makes sense now.”

His brows immediately furrow as he finally pulls his gaze away from the glowing screen in his hands. “You assumed I was talking to the insect?”

Straight faced, I raise both my hands like I’m pleading innocent. “Hey, I don’t judge.”

I break first. My shoulders begin to shake, then my still-raised hands, as the laughter bubbles up. Tech isn’t far behind. We look at each other as we laugh and I can’t help thinking that if it were anyone else I’d hide my face, but it’s like I’ve just now realized turning away would mean missing this uncharacteristically uncontained joy. 

Normally I hate sleeping in my helmet. I know it’s for protection or whatever, but there are few things worse than waking up with a crick in your neck and the gnarly one-two punch that is the bed-head-helmet hair hybrid. Alas, I am dedicated to not only my experiment but also not getting mocked by Wrecker for the next week for listening to Tech’s lecture on, let’s see… “Botanical Symbolism in Folklore Across Kashyyyk”? Sounds interesting. But since I’m not on watch for another seven hours, I can actually take my time choosing rather than scrolling a few pages ahead to the B’s and picking the first one that stands out. I kept scrolling and skimming for a while, he must’ve sent his entire audio library to me; there are hundreds of pages and I’m barely halfway through the aurebesh. Then I’m suddenly scrolling rapidly back to the top of the page as if my subconscious just had a great idea that I’m simply too conscious to understand, and that great idea is to sort the files in chronological order.

I don’t have to scroll back very far at all, Tech wasn’t kidding when he said he only stopped his audio diary when the work started. There’s one titled “The mountainous planet of Guntcania 5” from a few days before we last left Ord Mantell. We’d been sent to loot a newly abandoned Imperial shipyard, driven out by a group of formidable freedom fighters whom we were told were not in it for the profit but the valiant cause. Turns out it was both. I remember Tech quietly commenting on the geological formations to no one in particular. I remember standing a bit closer to hear his comments. I fell asleep just shy of eleven minutes after hitting play.

He caught me in the kitchen not long after I woke up, both of us beelining to the instant caf.

“Thought your shift was over,” I grab two packets from the drawer as Tech retrieves two mugs from the cupboard, “Want some of that herbal tea instead? Get some rest, maybe?”

It’s nice, these quiet moments with him. I’ll watch the kettle, if that old saying is true maybe I can buy us a few more of those moments.

“I have yet to decrypt the schematics from the refinery,” With a heavy sigh he sets the datapad down on the countertop, his shoulders hang and his exhaustion is visible, “Once I’ve completed that and analyze the data I will rest. Until then, I will stick with caf.”

I give a sympathetic smile, “Y’know, I’d offer to help but I think that isn’t exactly my area of expertise.”

“I would more than appreciate the company,” Tech interjects, and by the look on his face I think it took us both by surprise. “If you would be so kind as to join me, that is. Though, if you have duties you must attend to I completely understand and–”

My surprise quickly melts into a warm smile. “‘Course, Tech. I’d love to.” And his face softens in turn. And then there’s a beat where we’re just standing there smiling at each other. Then another. And another. Have you ever seen a tooka knock a cup off of a table and jump at the sound of the crash? Now, imagine that but instead of a tooka it’s two mercenaries, and instead of the clatter of a cup it’s the kettle coming to a boil with an abrupt screech. I think we’d find it much funnier if we weren’t still in the vast realm of half-asleep. Right now, it’s just enough to elicit a soft chuckle at most.

Tech retrieves his datapad as I fix the caf. “Have you begun conducting your experiment? I’m sure you’ve already seen, but I have transferred all of my files from the past year or so, I’m interested to hear your findings.”

It’s enough to slow my movements, brain power diverted to processing his question as I reach for the milk at half speed. “Oh. I, uh, I played the one from Guntcania 5. Didn’t last long, though, I was out by the time you got to regional climates.”

“You were with us for that mission. Perhaps choosing a mission or topic you are unfamiliar with would better prove your theory.”

I nod once before turning to join him, a steaming mug in each hand, carefully placing the caf in front of him as I sit. “Realized as soon as I woke up. Any recommendations for tonight's file?”

He names several from memory as he works on his own task, giving brief descriptions of each without giving away too much — that could skew the results. I add them all to a separate folder, sorting them in order of how excited Tech seemed at the topic.

Of course, things got hectic again and I didn’t have time for experiments – I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been listening to those files, though. Five rotations, a standard week’s worth of sleeps and dreams in the tune of Tech’s voice. I’m waking up well-rested despite sleeping only a handful of hours at a time. I’m practically begging the force to fry some wiring or call off a job to spend even just a few minutes with him. I’m starting to think I may have a problem.

Cid called while we were out hunting down puffer pigs for one of her clients. Hunter walked away with the holoprojector about halfway through the conversation, he later told Omega this was to avoid scaring the animals but Echo and I overheard the real reason. That’s another ten credits in the swear jar. When we get one, that is; right now it’s sort of just an honor system. Next mission – big client, big payout, big enough to hack away a good chunk of our debt and take a couple days off – was called off at the last second, she’d try talking to the client again but, right now, and I quote, “He ain’t budgin’.” We’re still on call, though, and flat broke after our last refuel, so this is really just the galaxy’s worst vacation. Hunter’s hushed and extensive vocabulary perfectly summed up our feelings on the matter.

I was going to try to get some rest on the way back to Ord Mantell but puffer pigs are noisy enough in a relaxed state, toss six of them in a cramped starship and toss that starship into hyperspace and you’ll start to realize noisy doesn’t even begin describe it. Poor Hunter’s locked himself in the ‘fresher, of course Tech installed some sound dampening element to the audio relay in his helmet, but that can only do so much. Omega and Wrecker tried calming the animals to no avail, they’ve resorted to tossing bits of ration bars at them as – I’d say tasty, but eugh – edible bribes. Echo and Tech are arguing over something; it’s small, I think, but I’m too tired to step in and mediate right now. What was supposed to be a short flight felt like years.

“Never thought I’d be happy to be back here, but it sure beats being stuck in hyperspace with these things,” Echo says quietly, carefully lowering the crate in his arms, making sure not to wake the puffer pig that had just fallen asleep. I gently placed the crate I was holding right next to it, maybe when they wake up in this new place seeing one another will calm them down. Or they’ll freak out together.

“Between you and the puffer pigs, I must choose the latter,” Tech mutters, still snippy after the long journey, Echo and I turn to look at him in unison.

Echo’s expression is that of a brother who’s accustomed to that sort of teasing, flat and unphased. Mine, however…

“Hey,” I do my best to keep my voice down, “Not cool.”

Echo’s expression is no longer unphased. It is phased. There’s confusion, surprise, the hint of a smile; he seemed as tired as the rest of us before, but this clearly perked him up. Usually when I step in on these little disagreements I remain as unbiased as I can but I am now, very clearly, taking Echo’s side and now he’s visibly interested in seeing how this plays out. I know I still look hurt by the comment that wasn’t even about me. And Tech, his shift in emotion is visible, I could see him process his remark and my reaction, and his furrowed brows loosen as he looks between the two of us.

“You are correct,” Tech nods once, looking to his brother, “Apologies, Echo, I did not mean that.”

After a moment, a smile graces Echo’s face, “I’ll accept that apology.” And gives his brother a solid pat on the shoulder on his way over to the bar.

“I get grumpy-tired, too, I know how it is,” I bump him with my shoulder, an attempt to break a tension that was not there.

“You do not seem grumpy right now,” Tech breathes out a laugh.

I shrug, “Well maybe I’m not tired right now. Maybe I’m just–” My body decides this is the perfect time for an unsuppressable yawn. “Maybe I’m too tired to be grumpy-tired.”

Tech hums, “A valid theory, it seems.” With a tired chuckle and lazy nod I glance around the near-empty bar. Wrecker and Echo sit at the counter with their drinks while they recount the mission to Cid. Hunter’s setting up the cot for Omega, who is already beginning to fall asleep at Cid’s desk, before he joins his brothers. “I am going to head back to the Marauder and get some rest if you care to accompany me.”

“Yes, please, a quiet ship and sleep sounds like heaven right now,” He stands aside, allowing me to lead the way out of the parlor after saying goodnight to our squadmates.

The cool air of Ord Mantell is enough to keep me awake just long enough to carry myself back to the ship. I hear the ghost of a laugh beside me as another yawn takes hold of me. “I fear you may have conditioned yourself, the sound of my voice alone seems to be putting you to sleep.”

Turns out I’m not too tired for a good laugh, “Yeah, keep talking and you’re gonna have to carry me the rest of the way.”

“I assure you, I was trained to carry men twice my size across the battlefield, I can manage.”

“Right,” I nod, later I’ll blame my dopey smile on exhaustion, “Hey, wait, why men twice your size?”

“It is standard protocol.”

“No, like, isn’t it a one size type of deal? Clones and all, y’know,” He stares blankly at me. “Well, yeah, a few exceptions, but broadly speaking it’s just the one size.”

“I see,” Tech says, and I’ve got this look like I just beat a holochess master, “Your exhaustion has caused a state of delirium. Perhaps this means I’m forced to carry you the rest of the way to best keep you safe.” A barked laugh escapes me at that. “Very well.”

Wait. “Wait! No, no, I’m good! I’m up! I’m awake!” And I am, very much so now as I pick up my pace to evade capture. After my laughter subsides I slow my steps to a walk, and Tech quickly catches up, as we traverse the familiar streets of Ord Mantell.

The Marauder’s ramp lowers with a hiss as we approach. “Dibs on the sonic,” I call over my shoulder as I scurry towards the refresher, Tech makes no protest and takes his time boarding the starship. Our water supply, while it is thankfully abundant these days, always seems to be stuck at the average human body temperature – no warmer, no colder – but at least the cycle itself doesn’t last long at all. A full-body shower only takes about three minutes in the sonic, Republic standard for conservation of resources and time between missions according to Tech. While it is efficient, I do miss a good boiling hot, thirty minute shower to tell the truth; I’d never tell the squad that, though, I’m grateful for what we’ve got.

The chime of my datapad sounded halfway through the sonic’s cycle and I emerge to find a message from Tech. A new audio file and a handful of recommendations. I dress myself with an all-too-giddy smile. After hastily gathering up my things from the ‘fresher I elbow the door control, ready to shout my thanks to the clone and surrender the now warm ‘fresher to him. Instead, however, I am met with the clone himself, standing in front of the doorway, datapad in one hand while the other is in position to knock on the now open door.

He retracts that hand quickly, though, he still looks as if he’s about to say something but nothing has come out yet.

I decide to take the lead. “Hey, thanks for the message. ‘Fresher’s all yours.” 

His parted lips form a smile. “I- you are welcome.” But when I exit the refresher and step to the side he makes no move to enter. “After reviewing a handful of files I found those to be most interesting, I hope this helps your experiment.”

My grin widens, “Thank you, Tech, it’ll definitely help.” He nods just once with a smile before retreating into the ‘fresher. Maybe I stared at the door just a second too long. Maybe I even let out a quiet little giggle before heading over to my bunk.

I can hear the sonic start as I finally turn in, scrolling through highlighted files on my datapad while I try to get comfortable on the flat old mattress pad which always proves to be an impossible task. My sights lock in on a file between two of Tech’s suggestions labeled “Repairs and Maintenance”. Do I already know the in’s and out’s of most starships? Of course. Do I still learn something new everytime Tech talks about the in’s and out’s of the Marauder? Of kriffing course. Perfect.

The sonic’s still running when I put my helmet on and hit play, and I’m promptly out like a light.

I wake with a stir when I feel something plush fall on my helmeted head and open my eyes to see a large hand reach down and grab the offending object. Wrecker whispers an apology as he gingerly retrieves his Lula after dropping her into my bunk. Still half asleep, I can’t decide if that sorry was for me or the doll. The guys are back.

With a quiet, sleepy groan, I roll onto my side and pull my knees to my chest, blindly reaching for the datapad behind me. Waking the device is a mistake as I am instantly shocked by its brightness, my eyes snap shut and I dim the screen. I’ve moved onto a new recording, it seems. This one is titled “Atmospheric Changes of Taccoh”, about five minutes in. Taccoh was one of my first missions with them, I remember my excitement at how well we worked together as a team. I’m not usually good on a team, but clicking with these guys was just easy. It just felt right.

“—they seem to be adjusting rather well to mercenary work. I must say, they are quite the knowledgeable mechanic and are proving to be a great asset to the squad. Wrecker’s comments on their romantic interest in me are, in my opinion, absurd. Though I would not be opposed to such interest, I find the probability highly unlikely. Their interest, as I’ve observed, lies both in their work and the pursuit of knowledge. Qualities I find most admirable, as well as —“

Pause.

The heart rate monitor on my dimmed HUD glows an ominous red as the number rises.

Oh god. Kriff. I found Tech’s kriffing diary.

I pry the helmet from my head, foregoing any attempt to fix my surely frazzled hair, still damp from the fresher, and swing my legs over the side of my bunk to sit up. My whole body is tense, my knuckles pale from the force of my grip on the durasteel frame. Fresh air. Yes. Fresh air would do me good right now, I’d say.

The room seems to spin as I fumble for my boots and the sheer volume at which my mind screams nearly drowns out Echo, half-asleep and confused, staring at me through squinted eyes from his bunk.

“You alright?” His tired voice repeats.

“Yes, yeah,” I answer, all too quickly, “just need some air, is all. You okay? You good? Sleeping okay?”

Echo’s brows furrow, he shifts slightly to face me properly, “I was,” he suppresses a yawn and I hurry up with my boots, “but then you shot up like you saw a ghost.”

My laughter is quiet but crazed, and I can barely hear it, “Ship’s not haunted, Echo, go back to sleep.” 

I stand to leave but the quiet call of my name stops me in my tracks, I turn to face the sleepy clone. “You sure you’re alright?” 

“I’m fine,” I try to make it sound convincing but I know it’s a sorry attempt, “really, get some rest. Be back soon.” His gaze remains fixed on me for a moment longer before he shuts his eyes, nodding before settling his head on the pillow once again. I let out a portion of a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding as I hurry out of the ship and into the crisp night air of Ord Mantel.

My feet take me to Cid’s. She shut the sign off but I can hear the jukebox from the street, no luck kicking out the regulars for the night, it seems. My feet then decide to take me down the stairs. Then to the bar.

“Great, I try to kick two out and a third appears,” the trandoshan huffs from behind the bar, “If you’re looking for dark and broody and the kid, they’re sleeping. Not sure how, these two bozos won’t shut up.” She shouts in the direction of the booming jukebox and patrons as she pours two drinks before sliding one to me.

“Hey, can I get your take on something?” I down the drink, extending the cup in a silent request. 

She glances tentatively first at my now empty cup, then at her own drink, before quickly finishing it to pour us each a second round. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Tell ya after I hear it.”

I laugh into my drink. “This stays between us.” She laughs into her drink. “Or I can just finish my free drink and leave.”

“Fine, fine. Between us.” She waves a dismissive hand. “But it better be interesting or these are going on your tab.”

My brows furrow, I nod just once before finishing my second drink, and the second the empty cup makes contact with the sticky countertop I blurt it out, “I listened to Tech’s diary.”

She waits for me to go on, I wait for her to be a voice of reason. Neither of us get what we’re looking for. “Alright, you found Goggles’ diary. And?”

“And?” I echo, incredulously. “I accidentally listened to some really, really personal stuff that I can’t un-listen to, what do I do? Do I tell him? What, do I say ‘Hey, Tech, so the learning by osmosis experiment was a bust but a little birdie — you, you’re the birdie — told me you had a big ol’ crush on me, for, like a while, so I just wanted to —‘ I don’t know what I want. Kriff, this is bad, isn’t it?”

Cid stares at me like I’m a three-headed mythosaur for what feels like hours, I try to calm my breathing, try to take a sip from my already empty cup. I’m only pulled out of my thought loop by the howl of Cid’s laughter. It even manages to pull Bolo and Ketch’s attention away from the jukebox, if only for a second. In all the time I’ve known her, I’ve never heard Cid laugh so hard. My look of shock remains even as her laughter subsides.

“Good one, kid. You almost had me for a second there.” She gently wipes a tear from the corner of her eye, but the laughter returns when she notices my expression is unchanged. “Oh, you’re serious?”

“Obviously I’m kriffing serious! Cid, I’m kind of in deep shit here, I need advice, I don’t need you laughing in my face!”

“Oh, relax, it’s not like you didn’t know. You idiots have been pining over each other from day one. Didn’t think Goggles would make the first move, though, I owe Muscles ten credits.” She mutters, though clearly still amused.

“I didn’t know! Force, how would I have known!” I put my head down on the bar with a sigh. “So, what, everyone knows and I’m just the last to find out?”

“Got it.”

All I can manage is a dramatic groan.

“Just talk to him, what’s the worst that can happen?”

I don’t even need to think about it, “I say exactly what I said before, weird him out, and go back to working by myself because he never wants to see me again.”

“Yeesh, try living a little sometime, kid. It’ll do you good,” Cid cringes into her cup, “Talk to him. Trust me.”

With a roll of my eyes I extend my empty cup one last time, Cid fills it without a word and I down the drink before leaving the empty glass on the bar as I stand, “Those were on you, I could’ve gotten better advice from Bolo and Ketch.”

“Can’t argue with you there, they’ve been together as long as I’ve known them,” She rinses out the empty cup and tosses it into the washer. “He’s crazy about you, kid. Just tell him how you feel.”

Cid’s words play on repeat in my mind as I wander the now empty city streets. Talk to him right, easier said than done. What if he’s not ready for a relationship? What if I’m not? We’re already so busy, will we really have the time? What if this changes our dynamic irreparably? What if I lose my closest friend?

It takes hearing someone call my name to pull me from what could’ve been an eternal thought loop. I’m back at Cid’s, a weary Hunter stands below the glowing sign, his arms crossed and he somehow looks both concerned and amused, “Going for a fourth lap around the block?” My lips part as if I could form a response but I come up short, opting to shrug instead. “Care if I join you?” I nod and we walk side by side, allowing silence to settle between us.

“Thought you were asleep,” I break that silence. Better to get it out of the way now, I figure I know where this is going.

“Not with all that noise,” Hunter lets out a deep sigh, he must know he could just power the damn jukebox down and get some rest. “I don’t know how Omega does it, that kid can sleep through anything.”

“She’s exhausted,” I let out a sigh of my own, “We all are.”

“Cid’s focused in on this puffer pig client, that’ll buy us some time to regroup, rest up.”

“Good. That’s good.”

Hunter nods, the silence that follows is not as easy or relaxed as earlier. He breaks it first, “I’m assuming you know what I’m about to say.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Talk, I guess. Can’t not now, huh?”

“That’s your choice,” He stops walking, catching me off guard, I stop a few paces ahead and turn to face him, “Never thought I’d say it, but I’m with Cid. The happiest I’ve ever seen him is when he’s talking to you. I get the feeling the same goes for you.”

I bite the inside of my lip, suppressing the smile that threatens to light up my face. Not the time. I nod, crossing my arms, “It does.”

“Good,” He smiles this warm, genuine smile before his serious sergeant demeanor returns, “Don’t let it get in the way of the job.”

“Copy that.” I give him a mock salute, to which his head drops with a tired laugh before his ears perk up. I raise my eyebrows in question as he turns his head in the direction of the parlor.

“Music’s stopped,” Hunter takes a step forward, extending an arm to pat my shoulder before retreating. “Get some rest.”

“Thanks, Hunter.” I give a little wave and watch as he retreats to the now quiet bar down the dimly lit street.

I begin my walk back to the ship, my mind still racing but not nearly as catastrophically quick as before my chat with Hunter. He’s probably still asleep, and I’m not planning on going back to the ship to wake him up and talk about this. My best bet would be to shoot him a message, ask if we could talk when he wakes up. Word travels too fast with these guys and the last thing I want is Wrecker bragging to his brothers about how he put his money on Tech and won. When I reach for my datapad I find the pocket is empty. Of course. I pick up the pace, almost frantically trying to recall whether or not I locked the device in my hasty departure. Odds aren’t looking great, though.

I take my boots off at the bottom of the ramp and tip-toe up in bare feet. Two out of the three men aboard are light sleepers and the last thing I want is to wake them as if I’m some teen sneaking back home after a party. Quiet as a mouse droid, I make my way back to my bunk as Wrecker’s snores reverberate through the durasteel walls. I’m greeted by my helmet, tossed haphazardly next to my pillow, but no datapad. Uh-oh. I glance into Echo’s bunk and find him sleeping, but the bunk above his, Tech’s bunk, remains empty. You’ve gotta be kriffing kidding me. Back to my tip-toes, I make my way to the kitchenette first, also empty, then the cockpit. The control panel is dimmed and all of the seats turned forward, if it weren’t for the tell-tale glow of a datapad screen I’d have thought Tech had simply vanished.

Without a word I join him, only releasing a quiet sigh as I sit in the copilot’s seat. He doesn’t look up from the datapad, its screen displaying the evidence of my discovery in bold text. “I didn’t intend to include such personal files.”

“Yeah, I didn’t intend to listen.” He nods before handing me my device, our gazes still not meeting. I take a turn staring at the display, rereading the title of the file over and over as I continue, “I fell asleep listening to ‘Repairs and Maintenance’, woke up to this one.”

“I, again, must sincerely apologize for any discomfort this finding has brought you, I was not planning to tell you in such an impersonal manner.”

“How did you…” I trail off, he was fast asleep when I left, I never pegged him for the type to pretend to be asleep and his quiet snores sounded so real.

“Echo woke me up, it was shortly after you had left. He said you appeared to be in a state of shock, I found you’d left your datapad open on your bunk.”

“That checks out.” Now that I’m here with him I can almost find the humor in the situation, I even manage a quiet laugh, “I’m sorry I flipped out, I just wasn’t expecting to wake up to that, I guess.”

He finally turns to face me, “You have nothing to apologize for.” “Neither do you,” I retort, meeting his gaze with a smile. I can almost see his thought process before his mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as he realizes the meaning behind my words. I continue, regardless, I heard him spill his guts, it’s only fair I do the same for him, “I feel the same way, Tech. I have for a while. Come to think of it, maybe I always have. Your feelings didn’t scare me, the possibilities did.”

He cocks his head in question, “Possibilities?”

“I’m scared of our dynamic changing, I’m scared I’ll kriff it all up and lose you. I’m no good at this kind of stuff and the last thing I want is for our relationship to suffer because of me,” I ignore the tears beginning to form in my eyes, turning my attention back to the viewport. Tech’s gaze, however, remains locked on me.

A hand reaches out, resting gently on mine, his thumb ghosting across my shaking fingers, “My darling, the fact that you are willing to voice these fears should be evidence enough that you have nothing to worry about. You contain a level of emotional intelligence that will never cease to amaze me. Should you choose to act upon these feelings, I assure you, we will be just fine.”

My eyes meet his, I don’t notice a tear has fallen until he reaches his hand up to wipe it away. When he notices how I lean into his touch, he cradles my cheek ever so gently, and I shut my eyes to savor the feeling, letting a warm smile wash away my worried frown. I rest a still-shaky hand upon his, opening my eyes to meet his once again, “What do you say we figure it out together, then?”

“A wonderful idea, darling,” Tech closes the small distance between us, placing a kiss upon my forehead. I can feel his smile. “However, I’ll need to review my files before you continue your experiment.”

I pull back, a look of faux shock on my face, too giddy to feel the real thing right now, “You mean there’s more?”

“Frankly, an embarrassing amount, perhaps we will review them someday but I’ve taken the liberty of deleting the more… risque files from your library.”

I’m glad the door to the cockpit is closed, otherwise the volume of my laugh surely would’ve woken both Echo and Wrecker, “Risque?!”

“I would greatly appreciate it if you refrained from mocking me,” Tech sighs, the mirth in his tone evident.

“Maybe that can be the next experiment,” I laugh with a smirk.

“Mocking me does not sound like an experiment I would have any interest in partaking in, thank you very–” His mild offense fades away in realization, “Oh. An interesting experiment, indeed.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! As always, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, I love hearing your feedback! Part two will be posted soon <3

[thefrogdalorian]

How can you still ship Dinbo when shippers have been so disrespectful to Katee AND she said it wasn’t going to be romantic?

Hello! I'm going to put most of this answer under the cut because it contains a lot of fandom discourse for one fine Sunday afternoon. But I wanted to give your question a full answer so I can direct any future questions I may receive of a similar nature to this answer because honestly, I am not a blog that revolves around shipping and I really do not want to be one! But thank you for asking a question without being aggressive, I am more than happy to answer :)

TL;DR: I hope the disrespectful idiots step on a lot of Lego. As much as I may share a ship with them, they do not speak for me and I cannot control their behaviour. I certainly do not condone it. Also, I ship Dinbo because I personally enjoy the idea of it and as much as I respect an actor’s opinion on their character, I do not necessarily have to share it. An actor should never be harassed for an opinion, that crosses an awful lot of lines that should never be crossed. I hate that that happened just as much as you do.

Ultimately I believe in ship and let ship. I stand against harassing real life people over fiction and more than anything: always always ALWAYS treat others with kindness!

Firstly, want to start off this answer by saying that I absolutely love Katee, she’s great and she brought SO MUCH to the character of Bo. I am thrilled she was able to portray her in all her forms, we're so lucky. To make such a successful leap from animation to live action is testament to how talented she is as an actress and I feel like she deserves so much more praise than she gets. It’s sad because in all of her comment sections after Mando S3 there were endless disgusting 2% jokes after ONE tiny comment she made on a much longer podcast appearance where she shared much more interesting stories. I think that was maybe the same one as she spoke a little about Dinbo but tbh, I haven't actually watched it because I can't stand podcasts... they make me cringe 😭

Anyway, those basement-dwellers focused on borderline sexually harassing her because of how attractive she is to them, rather than appreciating her talent. That just… absolutely sucks for her. I feel terrible for her. It was so widespread too and lasted for months… really hard to watch, tbh. But as far as I’m aware, it wasn’t Dinbo shippers that were leaving those comments.

Now, that’s not to deny that Dinbo shippers have taken things too far at some point, I’m sure they have! It wouldn't be the first time shippers in a fandom have crossed a line and sadly, it won't be the last. But I personally didn’t see it because I try and stay out of fandom discourse as much as I can. I really only have the energy and appetite to interact with the chill, respectful people on my little corner of the internet. If I ever saw anything that disrespected her, I would 100% call it out.

However, I do know there was that one panel appearance where people booed her or something? Ngl, I never watched the clip because just hearing about it made me cringe too much… (wow I really have a low tolerance for these things). I think, though, that it is a case of entitled assholes being entitled assholes, regardless of what they ship. It isn't a ship that makes them behave that way, that's the excuse, but really it's their idiotic, selfish nature. I think it would be a shame, then, to tarnish entire groups of people who might be enjoying a ship in a perfectly respectful way with that same brush, I don’t think that helps keep fandom spaces kind places to be. Absolutely screw all the people who have been disrespectful to Katee, I don’t condone that AT ALL. But equally, I am not responsible for actions of everyone who happens to ship the same thing as I do.

As much as I admire Katee and she absolutely DOES NOT DESERVE ANY NEGATIVITY FROM FANS, she is an actor at the end of the day. An actor’s opinion on a character is exactly that... their opinion. They portray them as their personal interpretation of the character and how they’re directed to, of course. I'm not arrogant or deluded enough to believe I know more about Bo-Katan Kryze than the person who portrayed her. I don't at all think that, but I think I can still disagree with Katee's opinion because, y'know, I'm human and humans don't always agree on everything.

The great thing about media is that audience can come away with a totally different view of the same character. Once the work is out there in the world, it takes on a life of its own, for better or worse. Sometimes beyond what even the creator intended originally. It’s like, for example, after you finish reading a book and you discover that other readers interpreted the exact same words in a completely different way. Some of those opinions you might agree with or entertain, some you completely disagree with and wonder how the hell they can even think such a thing. A portion of such interpretations probably aren’t even what the author intended, like this golden piece of tumblr history: the curtains were fucking blue.

This kind of thing has happened to me with my own writing before! People thinking a plot will go in a completely different way to what I intended. It's always a strange feeling, but as long as you don’t berate the author/fellow readers with different opinions, I think it’s perfectly reasonable to draw your own conclusions about it. After all, art is meant to be interpreted in many different ways. That’s the beauty of engaging with and creating art, to me.

At the end of the day, we're all bony sacks of meat with our own individual lizard brains and it would be boring if we all thought the same! Of course I still respect Katee’s opinion. If she says she wasn’t playing Bo to have romantic feelings towards Din then I’m not going to say she’s lying or get frustrated at her! That’s genuinely how she played it. Equally, it won’t really change my opinion because I know what I, personally, believe I saw in their interactions! Katee is more than welcome to share her thoughts, I would never think that she should stay quiet because I disagree with what she said… but equally I don’t have to let her words stop me from shipping something I enjoy! Plus I don’t think any of the cast know how Mando will end. Maybe they have some general plot ideas set out but nothing is final yet.

Ultimately, I’m equally happy for Din to end up with Bo or another love interest, if it makes sense for his character and feels right for the story, as I am for it just to be him and Grogu. The love he has for Grogu will always be the most important thing in his life. Loving a child like that changes you as a person and I love that we got to see how he evolved into a much better man because of it. Not to be a simp or anything but he truly is the best man in the world and I love him so much my chest aches.

A final point: I think if we just took actors and creators’ words as gospel then fandom would ultimately become a much duller place to be. Speculation and shipping are FUN (when done respectfully, of course). There’s so long to wait between seasons that if I just watched Mando repeatedly and never considered a different way to view the story… I just think it would be boring for me, personally. Enjoy the show however you want, watch it and interpret it however you want...but equally I will do the same! If you don’t share my ships and headcanons then that’s totally fine, as long as we can both respect each other and not lose our humanity.

Like I’ve said before, I welcome ALL Din ships and headcanons for Din or indeed for any characters. We may disagree on some of them, but ultimately, I am not right and you are not wrong… we’re all just nerds on the internet. And I’ll always try to make my blog a friendly, welcoming place to be for anyone who stops by, I really take that vow to you and anyone reading this very seriously.

I hope that answers your question and you can see where I’m coming from. I'm glad to have said my piece and I think any future questions I get like this, I'll just direct to this answer because it really sums up how I feel.

Thanks for reading if you made it this far. I just wanted to end this with what I said at the beginning: ship and let ship, don’t harass real life people over fiction and treat others with kindness… that’s my philosophy and it’s one that I’ll always stick by :)

[beesmygod]

HI EVERYONE: TODAY'S PAGE IS LATE.

im calling my shot too early, but i've spent the last 2 days getting my ass beat by lupus symptoms. im feeling so much better. the page is coming.

BUT in the meanwhile: i wrote this long post about why i left Hiveworks

ill put it under a readmore here on tumblr in its entirety:

intro: dont get your hopes up

look, i’m going to be straight up with you: there’s no messy drama or fallout that caused this. no juicy deets or salacious rumors to slurp down. you know if this were the case, i would have erupted across my various social medias in a frenzied rage with all the delicacy of a bull in a china shop partly for entertainment purposes. instead, this will probably be a boring at best navel gaze where i try to walk the line between pragmatically trying to explain why i left and moral grandstanding. because leaving abruptly looks weird externally, i do actually have to explain why instead of just mysteriously leaving during a period of time where i am being an obnoxious asshole. a combination of disdain for the current cultural zeitgeist and a growing culture of disrespect toward audiences has culminated in my online behavior devolving into the online version of grabbing people saying stupid shit on the street and shaking them very hard. this is something an insane person would do. i know.

the commodification and increasingly blatant commercialization of an art format that could once arguably be compared to other amateur transgressive arts (ex: underground comix, tijuana bibles) is borderline heartbreaking. not to be too dramatic, but i want to start smashing things like im a monster from the rampage arcade game to scare the NIMBYs away before they start building escape rooms where the fetish web comics used to be. there is no place unspoiled by the poison of advertising and sponsorships. except…

 

 

trying to make money in comics is a fool’s errand. go make furry porn commissions if you want to make money doing art! you’re completely out of your mind if you go into the arts to make money. full on detachment from reality if you choose comics. they should commit you if you choose web comics.

 

at hive:

i think people have a wildly different perception regarding the popularity of A Ghost Story so i have approximate data to give people an idea. having culled the SHIT out of my analytics results to remove bot traffic, i think i have relatively accurate results, i get about 1000 unique visitors a month (generously rounding up lol), about half of them are regulars, and 10% of them donate to patreon (this is, imo, an unfathomably large amount lol. shocking and humbling. thank you for your continued support of me in spite of [gestures]).  i feel like a small comic 99% of the time, but man. 1,000 is a big number. i can at least reasonably assume, i’m PRETTY sure, that i was a comparatively small comic in hiveworks.

my monthly payout was roughly $100 a month (and merch sales, if applicable) and their services included web site help, dealing with any merch sales, and site hosting in exchange for running banner ads (which have been a fixture on web comics since the conception of google’s ad program; remember the homestuck bidding wars??). banner ads felt like a small and reasonable compromise to be included in something that felt like a weird pipe dream. in certain circles, a hiveworks invitation was a stamp of quality with prestige; i was very aware of the company i was invited into keep and was initially pretty concerned with how my presence reflected onto them and their work. i was going through some serious brain problems due to a deeply stupid relationship and, as a result, i did my best to keep my head down, stay out of people’s way, and focus on not bringing undue shame to something i was well aware i was completely unsuited for. i had (and frankly, still have) no idea why i was chosen as i had not applied. i cannot stress enough that i was under no delusions as to the quality of my comic lol. my perception was that someone had stuck their neck out to make a special exception for me and i was constantly on the verge of fucking it up and humiliating them.

it was a very off-balance exchange extremely in my favor, and i was aware of this. especially since, being frank and honest here, i was bringing absolutely nothing to the table for them. i don’t want to put words in anyone’s mouth, but its a reasonable conclusion that i was more trouble than i was worth, given the infinitesimal worth.

the vast majority of hiveworks readers completely bounced off my comic, which makes perfect sense given the hiveworks audience is i think more interested in the genre they primarily host: fantasy and magical realism. in comparison, “a ghost story” is a slow, slooow burn about federal bureaucracy and being insane with extremely amateur art; i know what i am! and that’s fine! but i became a little resentful (and i tried not to! honest!) after 7 years of perpetually being put on a back burner. it felt like i was being strung along for reasons beyond my comprehension or as the baseline of acceptable awfulness for the website’s quality. someone has to be the “worst”, objectively. it’s not a great feeling to know it, coming to terms with it i think was much healthier than trying to fight it. it was a really good driving force to keep my mind off the nightmare of my life at that point and improve my art a lot.

AGS’ irrelevance was underscored by it being mentioned once over the course of 7 years on official social media networks, upon which a great deal of importance was placed. but frankly, there is nothing worse than dealing with the guy who sucks whining for the spotlight as though they are clueless as to why they are getting the shaft. so i simply achieved enlightenment by getting over it and realizing where i was in the hierarchy and how lucky i was to have so much shit done for me. i was (am, unbelievably. it never gets less wild when i sit down and really think about it) making enough through patreon that the $100 became my monthly fun money while i lived in oregon. it was welcome, but not essential.

a lot of real life, awful things happened that suck and couldn’t be avoided: one of the main points of communication and organization became terribly ill, COVID happened and obliterated shipping and manufacturing rates for apparently all eternity, uhhh the fabric of reality began to unravel lol. it’s been a terrible couple of years. i want to underscore this stuff so that people understand i was not wronged greatly in the grand scheme of things.

there are things that started to chip away at me over time, which made me question if i was a good fit at all. genuinely: the only thing i want to do is to try to live happily within my morals doing what i love to do. even and especially if it means living very broke. that’s the exchange i’m consciously choosing to make when i pick up the pen every day. due to the generosity of the people who support me or have supported me at any time (special shout out to adam, who puts up with this shit for some reason), i am able to do that. i contribute a proportional amount to the household now but tried to be (was??) 50/50 or 25/25/25/25 when i had roommates. i don’t want my one unyielding selfish choice to be anyone else’s burden.

i was told by another artist in hiveworks that my confrontational behavior could be a poor reflection on the brand, which became the tipping point in my choice to leave. to be clear, no one in charge told me this, but even conceptually i was not comfortable representing a company that i felt i was a member of out of obligation or inertia. i didn’t belong there and my presence was an active detriment instead of a tolerated nuisance.

anyway:

when the offer to leave was presented, i didn’t feel regret, or anxiety, or upset at all. i felt a placid sense of relief. i COULD leave. that’s TRUE. i had been kicking it around on my private twitter for a few months going back and forth with myself over what was more important to me: being able to take care of myself financially or doing something about my own hypocrisy that kept me up at night. if my incessant argument is that advertising based commercialization is a societal poison, then i need to put my money where my mouth is. and if i’m consistently annoying, i need to leave as a courtesy to everyone else.

i don’t regret my time with hive at all, but the overarching transformation from a collection of cartoonists to a brand is not where i want to take my art. i can’t bring myself to work even within the proximity of seven seas, a deeply abhorrent company. i am completely disinterested in wasting time or energy worrying about “the algorithm” because i don’t make comics for the computer’s sake and recognize that there’s a finite number of people interested in web comics in the world and an even more finite amount of money to spend on luxuries (because none of us have any money lol). i don’t want to repeat the familiar cycle of lamenting the death of art as we know it every 6 months.

people who are choosing to spend their limited funds supporting me are making a deliberate choice to elevate my presence in their life. i want and need to keep this in mind at all times, because it drives my attitudes toward what i want to choose to focus on. i want to keep my art (“art”) free with additional goodies being as reasonably priced as possible in the hopes that in this way we scratch each other’s back. making money drawing comics is a ridiculous privilege granted to me by people willing to sacrifice their time and money to me; i need to be thinking more about all that i have instead of worrying about what i don’t.

[ozimagines]

thanks for the account recs! god i fucking love oz... on that note, can i request a "dating chris keller would include..." imagine? he's such a fine ass motherfucker and a dangerous mix of toxic and sexy

Oh yessssssss, Chrissy boy is one toxic bitch when he wants to be, but when he loves he puts his whole pussy into that shit. Bonnie and Beecher and I think Sister Pete at some moments. And played to perfection by the always sexy and even more crazy Christoper Meloni. I give you… (drumroll pls)…

(Also, loves, trigger warnings are hard to add for this show because like… everything is triggering😅 especially for characters like Keller so read at your own risk, we all know this guy is a walking red flag)

Dating Chris Keller would include…

Ok so let’s not pretend this motherfucker even knows how he feels for you at first

Baby boy is just caught in the thrill of the chase

He just wants to know he can have you… or more realistically, if he can take you.

Hot and he knows it. Man’s has that non-gender specific rizz

Uses his size to make you blush, leaning over you and leering down

“See something you like, kid?”🥵🥵

Subtly is not in his vocabulary, when he flirts, he flirts hard

Takes his shirt off a lot around you, like even when the situation doesn’t warrant it

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Minister Said judging you🥲

After you’re his, you’re HIS, baby

Arm always around you in public, hand in your back pocket, head on your shoulder/head (he’s so damn tall😤)

Possessive fuck

I’m talking full yandere mode at times

“Tryna make me jealous, is that it?” -he growls after seeing you smile and thank the barista☠️

Sulks for a whole day

Will go beast mode when you’re disrespected

Body positive… but like, not on purpose lol, he just loves sex and bodies

If you got a little weight on you, he’ll be squeezing you constantly (he loved his Bonnie-bear)

When you tell him you’re insecure (like he can’t already smell that shit out) he just smiles his dimply, impossibly white smile

“Why?” He husks, lips on your ear.

Presses your hand to his crotch

“See what you’re doin’ it me? Still don’t think you’re pretty?”🔥🔥🔥

Anyone else points out your “flaws”, they’re dead, no questions asked.

Like, even if you don’t ask or want it

Arguments with him last for fucking ever, over the smallest shit

Doesn’t apologize, just buys you your fave drink or rubs your leg or something

To him that is an apology 😂

His favorite sport is getting you hot and bothered in public and watching you squirm, teasing you about it in a borderline mean way

Rubbing your leg with his foot under the table or fully bending over to get something even vaguely low to the ground.

“Just can’t control yourself around me, huh?”😘

Hate to say it because he’s such a douche but the man is an absolute unit in bed

Scratching? Licking? Tickling? Slapping? D: All of the above!

Kinkyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

If you’re a virgin/inexperienced, he can be a bit much

“School’s in session, baby”🙃

To quote Stanzi Potenza, ouchie daddy that hurt my mind, body, and spirit

Teasing, teasing, teasing, TEASING

There isn’t a place or time in this world he wouldn’t drop everything to get freaky with you

Broom closet? Tree stump? Your parent’s bed?!

Shares very little with you at first, but asks a lot of questions about you

Remembers EVERYTHING but pretends he’s not interested, it’ll just come up in conversation something you said to him in passing

Says “I love you” easily before he means it… and then when he does he can’t say it😂

Says things like “he/she/they love me, alright.”

Trying to convince himself more than anything

Insecure boi, even if he doesn’t admit it

Has nightmares that he won’t talk about

Big spoon all the way, doesn’t matter with whom

Can’t see him having kids, but if you have one, I think he’d jump into the role of step-dad

Doesn’t know how to talk to kids

“So… you’re in fifth grade… cool?”

Like he said, he wants a life, and anyone that gives him that is everything in his eyes

“Hey… you know I love you, right?”🥰

Bonus round: I like to give very specific traits to guys in Oz that just fit. Chris Keller loves burgers! Like all of them. Loves to drown them in onions. I think if he had the chance to grill a burger, beer in hand and you on the other, he’d be in heaven.

[f0point5]

I am so perplexed by the Max to Mercedes rumors because why on God’s green Earth would he ever go to a team that so blatantly, borderline maliciously disrespected his literal LIFE in Silverstone 2021?///

I am so perplexed by the fact that people are taking these rumours seriously.

Thing is…I didn’t think they really wanted Horner out at the beginning and it turns out shit was cooking the whole time 😂

It’s a bit different with Max and Merc because quite seriously what information could we be missing? Merc has sucked since the cost cap and Toto has said he is saving that seat for Kimi. Idk what we could be missing that would entice Max to waste his last couple of years in F1.

Unless Max is not the person he says he is and he is more concerned about number of titles and legacy in f1 than he ever pretended to be. If he is acc the fakest bitch in the paddock, then yeah he could go to Merc because we know their engine works. But he’s set up all this sim racing and Verstappen.com for what then?

So…I’m not taking it seriously.

But if it happens I will just be a full time Piastri fan bc the person I’m a fan of wouldn’t go to Merc

[f3mcelbambi]

Hi from what I've know on this page your "GF" never liked you. ever. sorry but you are fucking delusional and she was so uncomfortable the thought you liked her and it ended so why are you still obsessing over her and why do you act like she owes you something and shes bad and youre a saint. Leave her alone. Poor her. You are actually horrrible

omg this is like my first hate comment ever. i would normally just ignore things like this but i feel as though i should address things to moots and others. and i’ll try to attack this in a mature and composed fashion.

first of all, you’ve already discredited that entire statement by saying “from what i’ve known”. exactly, you do not know the whole story. you do not know us personally as individuals. therefore you are not entitled to judge the morality of the situation

you do not have the right to call me delusional or horrible or say that she felt uncomfortable with the thought of me liking her. you can have your opinion. but it would be invalid, naturally, as you only know what i’ve told you or shown you. which makes you inevitably biased. i do not show or tell you everything

you were not there at the beginning of our friendship, nor the middle. i started talking about gf nearing to end of it actually. i don’t know how far you’ve read but i do believe it’s not very far. because if so, you would have a different opinion. not once did you confront any of gfs behaviour towards me then made me the antagonist. i dont believe i am a saint but she is not innocent either

if you actually do read my blog, i have mentioned several times that i do have borderline personality disorder and she is my favourite person. you not being able to understand why i’m “obsessing” over her shows lack of comprehension and evaluation skills. we stopped being friends a week ago. after months of torment from the friendship, i don’t think i should be expected to just get over it.

i have addressed that i am aware that gf is straight. but i also believe speculation isn’t completely unacceptable here. the way she has treated me has been extremely abnormal in any platonic sense and i recognised that from the beginning. but i have never felt like she has owed me anything and i’m not too sure what gave you that conclusion. however i don’t think i’m asking of too much to be treated with respect and not to be toyed with. i do not expect her to be devoted to me, but i am a person with feelings that shouldn’t be played with. i personally do feel disrespected by how gf has treated me. not because she doesn’t like me. but because she lacks sheer common decency as a human being.

i am not obliged to give you a full story time of every single thing that has happened since the beginning. please understand that we are real people and not characters that you can just slander over an anonymous text on the internet. the situation is more complex than what you read on my blog. obviously

[kaycode1999]

Hello! I’d love to ask for an LMK matchup, but I’m not sure if you do them for anons. Would you also mind me resubmitting this ask if you don’t?

Appearance:

I have dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. Also vertically challenged coming at 5’1.

Pronouns & Sexuality:

I go by she/her and I’m heterosexual.

Aesthetic:

My actual aesthetic is casual with a preference for lighter colours. However, my favourite aesthetics are vintage and light academia.

Hobbies:

I love indoor activities, but I’m open to taking walks and going outside. I usually draw, play video games, and watch video essays about anything that catches my interest. I can’t do anything too physically taxing or I will suffer.

My Type:

Just someone who’s patient with me as I try to figure out myself, helping me whenever I get stuck, and is sorta similar to me in a way. I want someone who understands and doesn’t mind me being wishy washy with my affection. Doesn’t mind that I am not physically affectionate and can struggle with being affectionate. Someone that prefers quiet moments, doesn’t mind my occasional rants. We have a silent connection, and can usually tell what the other wants/needs. Someone who’s willing to talk and be honest with me about how they feel, and I can wait if they’re not ready. Looks wise, I prefer less muscular, taller than me (not a tall ask haha), and cute/pretty guys (I don’t mind hot/handsome though.)

Personality:

I can be slightly withdrawn and anxious at first meeting, opting to be accommodating and generally nice. But once I open up, I can be energetic and talkative. I’m very open-minded to everything and everyone (logically, there’s no reason for me to hate!), but I have trouble opening up and talking about my emotions, and can only do that comfortably under some form of anonymity (online friends for example) or if someone has prior experience with me venting. I will jump to defend people close to me if they’re being disrespected, and I can get pretty heated in the process. My friends tell me I can be brutally honest, borderline mean sometimes, but I really don’t mean to be (I have a different perception of what is rude.) Slightly touch-averse, but I won’t mind if you ask. I don’t like myself, but I don’t actively put myself down either. Finally, I am clueless about pop culture, and I can come off as pretty boring because of that.

Characters I don’t want:

I don’t want to be matched with Peng, The Mayor, or any character similar because I don’t like their personalities. Also Pigsy, Tang and Sandy, because I genuinely cannot see them in a romantic light.

Thank you! And I’m sorry for this long ask.

I match you with

Ao Lie

You two are like Yin and Yang or the sun and the moon ( Yes I did that on purpose😂). You are both so alike, yet different.

Where one person struggles, the other excels and just ends up lifting the other person up. For example, he struggles to stand up for himself or express when he doesn't like something whereas you're blunt yet honest

In that way you both learn and grow with each other and make each better

His personality is much like yours. He's also energetic and talkative and nice, but he also struggles with self-confidence and liking himself. He also knows you're a lot like him so he makes sure that even if you don't like yourself that you know he does- you do the same for him too

He kind of has to stick with indoor activities or something not too taxing because bless him he's so clumsy he might actually accidentally hurt himself so he tends to stick with you in whatever activity you are doing

Draw him something and he will keep it on his person at all times. Its so dear to him.

He will of course respect any physical boundaries and/or be understanding of your level of affection.

You two are actually so close, you just get each other. You don't have to tell each other to know what the other needs, so he will likely already know what you need at the moment before you say it.

Whatever you need he's there just like you're there for him .

[dragonmasterhiccup]

Her jaw dropped. He did not just say that. Sure, she was short, but not that short. Just because she had to tilt her head up to look him in the eyes didn’t mean anything. “I am not that short! And even if I was, at least I’m not a walking bag of bones! I mean, I’ll admit that I’m skinny n’ all, but whew, at least I don’t look like you!”

And here he was again, insulting her when he looked like that, it was borderline disrespectful. “It’s almost like you don’t want my help with this.” She was teasing of course, although if he kept this up, she may not be much longer.

She nodded. “Yep.” She grabbed a few of the decorations, secretly hoping that Olga would kick him; it would be perfect payback for his comments about her supposed ‘shortness’.

As she decorated Olga, she made sure to be as careful as possible. She also made sure to pay attention to detail, making sure Olga looked as good as possible.

She zoned out as she worked, a small smile making its way onto her face.

She was so incredibly grateful; never in her entire life did she think she would be doing something like this, just having fun and not having to worry about everything and anything. As much as she joked about it, Hiccup wasn’t a jerk or a bad person; he had been nothing but kind and understanding, and he opened her up to a plethora of new opportunities that she never would’ve experienced if it wasn’t for him.

(She’s 5’3 by the way 😭, she can tolerate the age jokes but she draws the line at height lol 😂 And OMG that was long 🤣, was not expecting that!)

Now it was his turn for his jaw to drop. He would sometimes poke fun at himself for the way he looked, but that was different. He knew he didn't have the look of a typical Viking. He realized he may have hit a nerve when he commented on her height. Hiccup debated for a moment, before settling on what to say.

"You might say that, but I've come to accept the way I am!" Mostly. "I'm just aerodynamic, is all! Listen, if I had the rough exterior of the common Viking, the world wouldn't be able to handle it, along with my penchant for inventions and battle tactics!" He wasn't being egotistical, he was very clearly joking. He could be threatening, to the right person, but that was all Toothless. Without Toothless, he truly was just a scrawny, talking fishbone who invented things.

He secured his grip on Olga, and the sheep glared at him. His own eyes widened in surprise. "You know, if sheep weren't herbivores, I'd seriously think Olga was planning to eat me..." Olga bleated menacingly at him.

He did his best to keep her still as Danny worked. Olga seemed to take a liking to Danny, but she kept staring daggers at Hiccup.

Toothless, watching these proceedings, growled a warning to the sheep, whose eyes widened in fear, and from then on, she stayed fairly still.

So still, that Hiccup was able to start petting her a little bit, thinking that Olga might like that a little better. He still had a firm hold on her, just in case.

"Almost done?"