#a real brain fart this post

[doki-doki-imagines]

"You want to go out for a walk? To relax a bit." You ask Kenshi, who nods at your proposal.

That's why you now find yourself walking through the forest of Wu Shi Academy on your free day. The orange uniforms left at home replaced by your more comfortable clothes.

You feel at ease with Kenshi, a sense of comfort you couldn't find with Liu Kang, as his god status never let you fully relax around him, nor with Raiden and Kung Lao, nice guys but with minds too concentrated on themselves, for a reason or another.

The sun shines bright in the sky, but summer will soon leave his place to autumn, and its rays aren't as powerful as the previous months. You walk ahead Kenshi, more used to these paths forgotten by men where nature is overtaking the grey path made before.

"Look! It's pomegranates." You point toward a tree to your left, big red fruits hanging from the branches.

"You want to eat one?" Kenshi asks, now next to you.

"No, I like them, but it will be a pain to get them. They are so high." You say, still looking up at them.

Kenshi looks at you, but you don't notice it, then he walks towards the tree and you finally see him now climbing the plant.

"Wait, Kenshi! You'll get dirty." You shout at him, but it is too late, the black-haired guy already plucked the fruit from the tree and jumped on the ground.

"Let's sit down there." He tells you, head nods toward the staircase at the end of the abandoned path, pink flowers at the side and between the cement.

"Okay, but look! Now you are all dirty. I'm so s-"

"I don't mind it." Kenshi tells you, brushing away your hands that were trying to clean the dust and dirt from his sky-blue shirt. "I'll wash it when we go back to the temple."

You sit next to him, not too near, not too far; a comfortable space where you hope Kenshi finds ease too. Your eyes land on his hands, tattoos, a bit faded by time, color his hands, his thumb digging into the apex of the fruit, fingers strong enough to break the thick red skin of the pomegranate.

Kenshi winces when the red sticky juice covers his hand, for a moment you guess ugly memories of his past may have resurfaced, but then you finally understand, thanks to an event of a few days before.

----

"Come on Kenshi! Peel the orange yourself if you want it so much." Johnny whines, before peeling the fruit anyway, giving the black-haired guy a slice of it. "I hate to get my hands dirty. Even more, if they also get sticky."

Johnny blabbers about being "sure you don't always mind having your hands sticky" but your attention gets caught by something else and you didn't listen to them.

----

"Here, take some." Kenshi says, voice low and calm. "Thank you." You reply, right hand forming a cup to take some of the seeds. "I'm sorry for not breaking the fruit. At least I would have been useful." You chuckle, eyes now low on the ground under your feet.

"I don't mind." Kenshi replies, spitting the white seed on the ground, head turned not to show you the gesture.

You know he minds, you can even see it by the twitch of his fingers, desperately trying to brush off the sticky juice.

But for you he doesn't. The urge to tap your feet like a happy kid is intense, but you keep yourself together, enjoying once again the sound of nature.

This time sitting slightly closer to him.

[gothicwill]

Just came across a tiktok slideshow of funny tumblr Hannibal posts only to see that most of them were my posts god I forgot i get perceived by people??

[milubrique]

the post about post notifications was not supposed to get notes,,,,

[thoughtfulfiction]

Social Media QB

Author’s note: reposting my old work on this side blog! Let me know if you’d like to read a specific one. Thank you for reading!

The reputation of the Chargers social media team was unmatched. They are known for being funny and up to date on all memes and pop culture references while also showcasing players’ personalities. That alone made you apply and this past year on the job had really been a once in a lifetime experience. Working with Megan and the crew was a daily adventure and you were becoming more and more comfortable calling the guys your friends. It even got to a point where you didn’t even call them by their names anymore.

Quentin was usually just “Q.” JK was always “J’Kaylin”, Derwin was “3” and your favorite nickname was definitely calling Justin “Sunshine.” At first it was a Remember the Titans reference but it became a lifestyle. Everything and everyone revolves around the sun and that’s exactly what it felt like when you were at work. All of the players were important and special but you could just feel the energy in the room shift when Justin was there. It was palpable, it almost took your breath away sometimes.

Off camera he was goofy, funny and had this uncanny ability to make the world stand still for a bit, even just for a few fleeting moments where it felt like you two were the only ones in the room. But then reality would hit and you were reminded that you work for the team and he’d never see you in that way, he was just nice to everyone he encountered. But on camera? It was all fun and games. There was a running joke, mostly based on his real feelings, that Justin hated cameras. He couldn’t stand being the center of attention or having people perceive him so he avoided the social media team altogether when phones were pointed in his direction. 

But sometimes, a rarity, you were able to get him on camera, even if it was just for a split second. The two of you reviewed the questions he was going to be asked before their Hot Ones appearance and there was ALWAYS a discussion, more like subtle begging if you all were going to have him participate in any content.

“We need Justin for this new segment we’re doing, so you’re gonna have to talk to him.” Megan sighs, grabbing her Stanley cup that was sitting on the counter. She’d just finished editing a video where she and her assistant put fart spray on the tiny mic and could still smell the rancid scent until she grabbed some Lysol spray to de-funk the place.

You were going through photos taken during practice earlier that morning and deciding which ones to post and without looking up you asked her, “why do I have to do it?”

Lorren and Allie giggle in the corner, shaking their heads. “You cannot be serious right now y/n,” Lorren gives you a pointed look.

“What?”

“We all know you and Justin have a thing for each other. Even if you won’t admit to us…or yourself. It’s pretty obvious.”

You finally raise your head up from your laptop, staring at them while also wracking your brain trying to figure out when your innocent crush had become so painfully obvious. If the girls knew, then Justin had probably somehow caught on and the thought of that made you want to dig a hole right outside on the practice field and never come out. “Is—am I that easy to read?”

“No one blames you,” Megan runs a loving hand on your shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ve been trying so hard to hide your feelings that you haven’t noticed that he’s doing an even worse job of hiding his massive crush on you.”

The look on your face sends the room into a fit of laughter. “We’re being serious. The way he looks at you and acts around you. Anyone can see he’s into you friend.”

You weren’t convinced, “I need an example.”

“Okay fine,” Lorren stands up to prepare a demonstration. “He wasn’t ready to put the mics on when he was mic’d up until you walked over and helped him get the mic in the perfect spot in his pads. And then he wore the friendship bracelet for six weeks because you handed it to him.”

Allie pipes up to put in her two cents. “And let’s not forget when he had you driving him around the golf tournament and kicked Zion to the curb. There’s no way all of those are just a coincidence.”

“Fine. I’ll go ask him if he’ll shoot the video for us but I’m not going to lose my job because of a meaningless crush on the starting quarterback.”

You waited around for the guys to leave treatment after practice and caught up with him on his way out. “Hey Sunshine, quick question for you.”

His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and he gives you a small tight-lipped smile. “What’s up?”

“I need you to do me a huge favor and be in this tik tok. It’s a short game and it’ll only take like 15 minutes.”

His deadpan face and disappointed dad sigh has you practically begging, saying “please” in your finest sing-song tone.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” You knew he’d crack, he always did. “On one condition. You also have to participate.”

You hold your hand out and he engulfs it with his much larger one. “You’ve got yourself a deal Herbert.”

“Okay the rules of the game are simple,” Megan begins from behind her phone screen before hitting record, “we’re going to give you these Canadian snacks and you’ll rate them on a scale from 1 to 10. One being it’s awful I’ll never touch that again and 10 being a solid snack that you’d eat everyday if given the opportunity.”

You and Justin nod, diving in on everything from the ketchup chips to the toffee. The video didn’t take long as promised and the quarterback went about the rest of his day with no further distractions.

In your office a few days later on the team’s off day, you were contemplating your life. Maybe you should take a step back from him so people don't get the wrong idea. Sure, your coworkers were convinced the crush was mutual but what if he was just being nice? He was always so focused on football and making the most out of every opportunity. Why in the world would he waste time flirting with a social media manager? It just made no sense. Instead of continuing to run a million imaginary scenarios in your mind you packed up your stuff and tried heading out to the parking lot. Even after all this time you still struggled to maneuver all the twists and turns of the building and somehow found yourself walking past the quarterback room. You intended to just keep walking but he was in there alone and called out your name when he saw you.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think anyone would be in the building today.” His bright eyes staring down at you made your heart feel like it was beating out of your chest. You desperately needed to get it together.

“I came in to finish up a few things but I’m heading out now. What are you doing? I think you’ve watched enough film to last you a couple lifetimes.” That gets a light chuckle out of him and he shakes his head, the two of you knowing that his quest for perfection would never allow him to believe he’s watched enough film. “Thank you for shooting that video the other day. The fans are gonna love it, they’re always begging us to get you on camera.”

“No problem, anything for you.” He clears his throat after whispering the last part, desperately hoping that you didn’t hear it. Even though you definitely did. You should go home for the day and leave him alone in the office so he can get back to work. You should stop staring at his lips that look so soft and just begging to be kissed. He should turn around and get back to the playbook and the computer but here he is, standing still, right in front of you.

You’re just there, waiting for someone to rip the carpet out from under you, to fall on your face, for someone to tell you that this isn’t actually happening. The space between your bodies diminishes significantly, so much so that you can smell the Dr. Squatch Birchwood Breeze radiating off of him. It’s intoxicating and you swallow the fear in your gut and ignore all of the common sense thoughts plaguing your mind, allowing you to feel.

The kiss is tentative at first, he pulls back slightly, whispering if it’s okay to keep going as you feel his breath against your lips. You don’t respond but instead pull him in closer, hearing a satisfied husky moan from him as he allows your tongue access to his. His right palm rests against your cheek until he’s tilting your head up ever so slightly to deepen the embrace and he pulls you in even closer, holding on for dear life while closing and locking the door behind you. It was so much more than he imagined, these feelings that he’d been pushing aside were being confronted and magnified by the second. This innocent crush that you had on him were genuine, real feelings that created a deep ache in your bones, actively being soothed with his hands all over you as the two of you made out like helpless teenagers.

You didn’t think you’d have the strength to tear yourself away from him…until his phone rings. He ignores it the first time but it’s all you can think about by the fifth ring.

“Answer it,” you whisper breathlessly and you can feel him hesitating to pry himself away from you. The heat that was radiating off of his body that you felt being so close to him sends shivers down your spine at the sudden distance. A thousand unspoken apologies are painted on his face as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He keeps the call short and sweet but the look of devastation is clear when he hangs up. “You have to go don’t you?”

He nods. “I’m so sorry. We can—we need to talk about this I know. And I promise we will. I just—I need to take care of this.” He doesn’t want to leave, not like this. Even if he knows you understand. Justin presses a kiss to the side of your head and whispers another “I’m sorry” leaving you in the room to think about what just happened.

You walk around the empty parking lot until you reach your car, letting out a deep sigh at the thought of what the conversation with him is going to look like after this. You need to be mentally prepared for good news, bad news and everything in between.

He is the sun after all. And sometimes when you stand too close, you might get burned. And maybe, just maybe, you’d avoid the burn altogether and bask in the warmth as long as you can.

[warping-realities]

Animal I Have Become

Alright, I promised I wouldn’t write any more. But this one’s short and I cranked it out in less than two hours. The inspiration is obvious for anyone who’s a fan of "Karate Kid"/"Cobra Kai," since I just finished the first part of the last season. And for those worried about my studies, don’t sweat it—I was on my work shift, which I never use to study because it seems to attract all kinds of chaos. Anyway! If any quick ideas pop up, I’ll post them, but no more long stories packed with plots for a while.

I only agreed to go back to the place of my humiliation for one reason: Mikey was my best friend throughout high school until he decided, right in our senior year, to join the karate team of the new P.E. assistant teacher. Then, like magic, the skinny kid with a sharp sense of humor who could discuss everything from experimental physics to pre-Columbian American history, the guy I knew so well, was replaced by this arrogant musclehead who struggled with math and was totally incapable of having a history discussion that didn’t revolve around bragging about how today badass America was, and whose idea of a joke involved talking about tits or letting out a stinky fart. Apparently, it was a courtesy of the insane amounts of protein he started chugging to maintain his suddenly beefed-up physique. How the hell was it possible to gain that much muscle in such a short time? Maybe steroids, but the one time I asked about that, I ended up stuck under his stinky armpit. And what was up with that new nickname? “Snake!” How pretentious was that? But apparently, everyone in the group had a “badass nickname.” Ah, the joys of the standard American jock… Still, I tried to hold on to some of our friendship; God, did I try.

I even agreed to join a couple of those damn team practices, knowing damn well I didn’t have the physique, the skills, and maybe most importantly, the real desire to be there. I ended up getting ridiculed by everyone, including my so-called best friend.

I should’ve never talked to him again after that week of “practices.” But, being the idiot I am, all it took was a poorly worded apology full of grammatical mistakes that my brain refuses to recreate:

“Sorry, bro, the sensei got pissed at the guys when he heard their jokes about the size of your… well, you know. He wants you to meet us in the locker room today so we can apologize the right way. If you don’t show up, he’s gonna make us skip training for the whole week. Come on, please, for our friendship!”

… and there I was in that locker room. I should’ve left those morons without practice, but I decided to be the good samaritan.

Walking into that crap hole, what a surprise! It was empty. The pungent stench of sweat filled the room and humidity on the walls made it feel like the locker room was actually a beast whose musk drips off its body after a vigorous workout. But that didn’t matter; apparently, either the coach didn’t give a damn about what happened, which I should’ve figured, since he was just an older version of the ogre crew he trained, or he didn’t even know what went down, and I was about to be the victim of another lame prank.

Thinking about the danger, I quickly turned to leave. Then I noticed… on the other side of the room, hanging on one of the lockers… had that been there before? A piece of red fabric… oh, of course. A red gi from the team; they even gave themselves a pretentious name…. The fight practice was happening right at that moment. It was hard to think about it. I said so much crap about the team on TikTok and Instagram, tarnishing the reputation of the strong and disciplined image they worked so hard to create outside those walls that they probably hated my guts now. All those arrogant alpha dogs were arrogant and obnoxious. What the hell was I thinking trying to fit in? Nerdy little dudes like me didn’t really belong there. Even the jokes about my dick; if I were one of them, I’d just throw a punch or come back with some barbaric, macho comeback and everything would be cool. But I wasn’t like that, and my frustration with all of it was proof of that.

I never really liked the Gi. That red color always seemed way too aggressive, and for some reason, it always looked oversized on me, with sleeves and pants that were way too long and baggy. I had to wrap the belt around me twice just to keep it from falling off my skinny frame. Apparently, it never crossed the sensei’s mind that a little guy like me would have the audacity to try to join his team. Thinking about it, it wasn’t that I didn’t like the Gi; I hated it. It represented everything I despised about that bunch of trolls and also my lost friendship.

I stepped back and slowly turned my head back to the locker with the gi. Did it belong to someone? normally they were used by any of the team's bodies, one size fits all, or almost, when I was still there... anyway... after training they went straight to the laundry before returning for the next training session. Not that any washing would really get rid of the complete animalistic musk that infested their fabric. So why would someone leave it here?

Not my fucking problem. Probably just a spare or something. I think, walking resolutely toward the door, and I crack it open slightly. I turn back. I guess there’s no one using it. That means someone’s gonna grab it soon. Something’s bugging me. But what is it? I get closer, the musk intensifying. That gi definitely isn’t new and hasn’t been washed recently. And what’s this? There’s a note along with it. I sit on the nearby bench to read.

“Sorry, bro, today’s practice was super important, and the sensei didn’t want to wait for you. But he left your gi here. Put it on and come train; this time it’ll be different, I promise. Trust me, for old times’ sake.”

Old times? Maybe… maybe I should give it a shot. God, what a weird thought. Why would I want to do that? But while I’m thinking about it, my feet are already moving me to stand up and head toward the locker, while my hands are grabbing my shirt and pulling it up. I should stop. I need to stop. I should leave now, but the shirt comes off and goes over my head, landing on the floor. My pants are unbuttoned, and soon they join the shirt. I really should stop. Why do I want this? It’d be better to stop, but soon I’m in my boxers holding the gi in front of me. First, I put one leg in... then the other... then the arms, and then the belt… why is it black? I wonder, confused… but then that consuming need fades away.

I look at myself. As always, it doesn’t fit. I look like a kid wearing his dad’s suit at some event. I sit back down on the bench. Alright, that strange urgency is satisfied. So now I can just take this damn thing off!

But I don’t want to, for some strange reason. I feel more comfortable than ever. It’s like that mismatched uniform was made for me. My delicate hands wander over the ill-fitting outfit, the long sleeves sliding down my shoulders. I try to adjust them back into place, but they stop midway as I start to feel the material against my skin. The feeling of power it gives me… the feeling of strength… was it really this good when I was practicing? No, definitely not; if it was, I wouldn’t have quit. Man, this feels amazing... I feel the weight of the gi on me, both real and metaphorical… the weight of what it represents… my hands roam over its wide shape… it’s not just a uniform… it’s an armor… a sacred cloak… this is so cool… I can hear them in the training room… too bad I can’t join them... I wish I could... and they asked... didn’t they? I shift a bit on the bench and let my arms fall to my sides. Weird, I didn’t seem that far from the ground before. I feel cozy; the sweat smell doesn’t bother me, the whole atmosphere feels familiar, even comforting, like coming home after a long day and sitting in your favorite chair. I feel dizzy, like I’m about to fall asleep...

My rational mind, or what’s left of it, doesn’t notice. But unconsciously, I do… my muscles are slowly expanding, my skinny body pushing against the bench while my hands gently massage my slightly protruding belly that’s slowly flattening, the little bit of fat there seeming to be sucked in with every circle my hand makes. My shoulders are also widening, getting broader, as I grunt happily, a tingling sensation creeping up my body.

Feeling that, my eyes suddenly open, a jolt waking me up a bit from that stupor. What the hell was that? I look at my belly, and it’s widening as I’m hit with shock. I’m getting ripped! My hands trace the outline of my abs as the little muscle blocks there grow and harden, turning into six distinct shapes. As I stare at that in fascination, the stupor hits me harder.

The rigid stones of my abs aren’t the only things getting harder. My arms and legs are swelling with new muscle, keeping pace with my ever-growing body. And, well... I gently pat my groin. It’s definitely there too… a solid extra four inches, and still soft… As my body keeps expanding, the sensation turns pleasurable, like scratching an itch that’s been bugging you for ages, so I let it wash over me. My mouth opens in a gasp, drool spilling out as I pant like a dog. For some reason, it’s easier to breathe like this. Maybe because my nose is breaking and reforming a few times without me even noticing? As the drool runs down my pecs, I bring my hand to them and feel them grow, making my hands look tiny in comparison to the two meat packages they become. I shake my hand a bit, sending the drool flying, and with each shake, I see it grow too, turning into a massive paw, perfect for smashing some unsuspecting fool. Looking at that seems… really good… and I laugh. And out of nowhere, the other hand starts growing too, while my feet expand like crazy. My size eight shoes will never fit those paws; what size are they now? 14? Or maybe 15? A good kick with those surfboards and you’re down for the count… cool… hehehe...

No, not cool, not cool at all! This damn outfit is doing something to me! I stand up and grab the gi by the sleeves at my shoulders, ready to rip it off, and then…. I fall back onto the bench, my eyes unfocused again as a sudden wave of pleasure hits me like a tsunami. Yeah, a torrent of testosterone floods my body as my jawline becomes prominent, my chin broadens, and little tufts of freshly trimmed hair cover my chest and armpits. My mouth opens again, drool spilling out as my neck thickens, and my Adam’s apple sticks out, while my forehead becomes more pronounced, with low brows creating a scowl that makes it look like I’m always ready to fight, and my hair gets shaved on the sides, completing the look of a total douchebag. I try to care, I try to fight... fight... good… fights is good... no… not fight like this... I start to lift my arm, now powerful and making the gi look slightly tight… my biceps must be huge… hehhe… then it drops again… I look at my altered reflection in the mirror and see someone who could easily roll with Samue… Snake and the other guys… who knows, maybe now it’ll end… maybe I’ll finally break free from this stupor and get out of here… But then the real nightmare begins, as a web of powerful veins snakes through the swollen muscles of my body, a myriad of intrusive thoughts starts to slowly shape my mind, no matter how hard I try to resist. They break through my defenses with such force that my illusions shatter quickly as I start to forget. Memories of long hours of studying slowly morph into party after party with my friends, working out with them, training with them, watching my body swell and grow; time spent on pop culture becomes time spent watching football, hours and hours perfecting my college resume turns into hours and hours of sweat and sacrifice perfecting my fighting technique to the point of perfection. Just like my friends. Just like the sensei taught us to be. And we owe it all to sensei. Especially since he’s gonna figure out a way to get me into college, get all of us, in every corner of the country, ensuring that his teachings are passed on. Just one of us in any student group or, better yet, a fraternity, and boom, a new crew of brothers ready to spread the word… ha… word… funny… as if we needed to talk… no… our way is the way of the fist!

Shit, I can’t believe I slept through practice! Sensei is gonna rip me a new one! I shouldn’t have hooked up with those hot girls from college with Snake last night… dude, I couldn’t miss that hookup… I’ll just have to take the sensei’s punishment like a man… and I AM THE MAN!”

I stand up and groan, my voice deeper, with a bit of a growl. I turn toward the door, bracing for sensei’s yelling… Eh, screw him. He’ll put on his show about my tardiness, and I’ll play my part as the remorseful kid, and everything will be fine. It’s not like I skipped out or, God forbid, quit the team; I can’t even imagine the things he’d do to a damn deserter. I stretch a bit, admire myself in the mirror… Mad Dawg, you’re so swole… damn… you big, hot son of a bitch!

And then I finally walk toward the training room to join my brother’s in arms. Today’s practice is gonna be awesome; I can feel it, but honestly, it always is; I was born for this.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Brainrot Housekeeping: An update

I don't know how many times I've tried to find the best way to say this, but I'll put the major updates upfront and go into detail under the cut :')

To get straight to the point, I'm going to be retiring from this blog in a few days.

No, I'm not leaving the fandom

Yes, I'm going to keep creating! Just not on this blog

No, I'm not going to delete this blog

Yes, I'm still going to be relatively active as far as regular fandom activity goes

To go a little more into detail, I've had an ongoing situation at my workplace that quickly spiraled in all the wrong ways over the last month. I ended up having to resign as a last-ditch effort to preserve my physical safety, which obviously means that now my life is going to look very different from what it has for nearly the last two years.

My job (which I did love doing) involved a setup that allowed me the kind of time and space to pump out the amount of content that I have since I started this blog. Now that that's changing, I won't have the consistent, scheduled blocks of idle time to keep up my past posting schedule. Creativity will happen irregularly in my free time, and I'll want to spend it differently.

Which brings me to the future of my creative endeavors and involvement with the fandom - I don't think I'll be able to truly understand the impact this has had on my life for years to come. Having a community with all of you, getting back into my passion for writing and storytelling and creating after six years of giving up on it, finding out what it's like to watch a shared love and enjoyment for characters unfold into something real and exciting ... it's meant the world to me, and I can't thank every person who's been here for it enough. There's no way I'll leave any of this behind if I can help it.

So, no, I won't be writing for the Arcana M6 anymore, but I'm not leaving. I will still be running the Vesuvia Weekly event blog (and, if I have the brain farts for it, occasionally contributing my own submissions) and I will still be active in the Arcana Renaissance server. Not only will I be keeping this blog up, I'll also continue moving all of my writing posts onto Ao3 as well for a more cohesive, effective archive for anybody who just wants to browse M6 content. I won't be taking writing prompts anymore, but I'll do my best to stay on top of answering asks!

As for what I'll be doing next, to be honest, I'm actually pretty excited. I've had an idea rattling around in my head for a while that's begging to be written and illustrated and composed for, and I've finally reached the mental space to do it. I'm already in love with my main cast of characters and the dystopian, fantasy-punk-ish world they live in. If I ever manage to get my ideas off the ground, I'll be more than happy to invite anyone interested to watch it develop and unfold. :D

(And no, this will not involve Dorian at any point lol. I'd rather learn to code and build my own website)

If you've read this far, I can't thank you enough. You've taught me life lessons and prompted me to grow as a person in creativity, kindness, community, and joy. I've learned what it means to hold love and space for others in new ways. You've enriched my life in important and tangible ways and you'll always have a piece of my gratitude. I never would've imagined an experience like this, but boy am I glad it's happened.

Until next time!

brainrot

[bunniisms]

WALTER. C. DORNEZ HEADCANON DUMP

Blame this headcanon dump on the tremendous support from my friends and my unending obsession with this Old Fart and throwing him down the metaphoric staircases in my brain!

THE C IN HIS NAME ISN'T A MIDDLE NAME. Remind me to talk about it at length later, because it's an entire bullshit that would make this post far, far longer that I've already made it. Instead, the C in Walter's name stands for COURTENAY, the name of the old, old noble family he draws descendants from. Who had historical connections to the art of Vampire Hunting & the Hellsing Family via their connection to the Vatican and support of the late Abraham Van Hellsing.

Walter was the son of a daughter who didn't have the name (or any claim) to pass down beyond her and her late husband's friendship with Arthur Hellsing. As an adult, Walter's reclaimed the title and hyphenated his last name (i.e. Courtenay-Dornez)

TLDR: Walter C. Dornez but the C in his name is a desperate clinging symbol and claim to historic (and almost forgotten) notoriety and a connection to the business he’s attached his whole identity to but never found direct happiness from

WALTER DESCENDS FROM PEERAGE BUT ISN'T DIRECTLY OF ANY IMPORTANCE TO ANY NOBLE FAMILIES

This is sort of canon, but WALTER HAS DEEPLY STAKED HIS SENSE OF IDENTITY AND PERSON-HOOD INTO VAMPIRE-HUNTING and the concept of both his body deteriorating with age, and his gradual sense of being rendered obsolete behind New Operatives and Alucard is the heartbeat in the floorboard driving him to madness. FOR WALTER TO BE BENCHED OR TO BE RETIRED, HE SEES THAT AS THE DEATH OF HIMSELF IN A FAR MORE VISCERAL SENSE

WALTER IS AN OXYMORON OF ARROGANCE AND INSECURITY. Walter struggles with his sense of identity and his place in the world. It's not that he feels useless, but he feels like he has been doomed and damned to forever be third best - unable to move forward - unable to be better, to be wanted by existence (and himself), always envious and wanting for any claim of his own that he can truly sink his teeth into and use as a salve to cover the infected wounds of insecurity that have been with him since he was a child.

HOWEVER, the funny thing with Walter? As much as he feels this way, he is a haughty, arrogant, catty bastard. He views the vast majority of people, human and otherwise, as far, far beneath him, even with his insecurity being what it is. Walter knows he could be MORE, but these other people? It would be a miracle if they even got to his weakest position. Their words have precisely as much weight as the clucking of chickens.

WALTER HIDES THESE TRAITS WITH A JEEVES-LIKE FACADE AND PERSONA OF WARMTH AND HUMILITY. A lot of the time, the Walter seen smiling and bowing, offering his hand and advice, greeting the guests and answering the household's calls with a polite warmth is as superficial as a cardboard mockup - it's an act - the Walter we see walk out and make pot shots to scare Jan and quote his speech back at him. THAT'S THE REAL WALTER. Walter hasn't so much changed that part of him that we saw so much of in Dawn, as much as he's learned to hide it.

ONE OF WALTER'S LOVE LANGUAGES IS TRANSPARENCY. Walter has developed such a false crust of subservience and humility and comically stereotypical butler-like deference. You know you've sunk deeper into his person when he begins lifting the act in more intimate settings. Walter might seem to get sharper and cattier, a little more mean-girl-esc with his judgement and quips, but that's Walter! If you took him for a sweet old man, you bought the charade, hook, and sinker. THIS is the real Walter, THIS is what goes on inside his mind's palace. Either embrace it or take the check and go! Haha

UNLIKE THE HOUSE OF COURTENAY'S CATHOLIC ORIGINS, WALTER IS ANGLICAN and sparsely practicing, making sure to attend major Church Functions alongside the Household (such as Integra) but not making much of a habit of attending the small chapel inside the Hellsing Estate

WALTER HAS FOURTH NERVE PALSY, caused during The Dawn Arc after he sustained a massive skull fracture and very nearly died

YES, HE DOES BLAME ALUCARD FOR THE INCIDENT THAT CAUSED THIS, they were assigned to a mission together, flushing out operatives in Warsaw together, and yet, they became separated. Alucard's bloodlust or showboating slowed him down, and Walter was left alone to fend on his own. While successful for a while, Walter was a child, a lone child, and his enemies had no mercy. By the time Alucard dragged his carcass back to Hellsing, there was little to be done. But, despite rescuing him after, Walter never forgave Alucard for the part he feels Alucard played. His blame is partially misplaced, but it still burns hot, and the paranoia festering in the back of his mind forever wonders whether it was delayed by accident or if he orchestrated it all to stunt his abilities and prevent him from surpassing Alucard? (it's absolutely NOT that Walter, I can promise you)

WALTER HAS A SMALL HABIT OF ALWAYS LEANING/COCKING HIS HEAD SLIGHTLY TO THE RIGHT SIDE TO COMPENSATE FOR THE DAMAGE TO HIS EYE AND VISION

RE: THE MONOCLE, it's not there for the aesthetics of a Victorian nobleman, though that's not to say Walter doesn't carefully cultivate his image. Walter's monocle is a prescription medical device; it helps correct issues with his depth perception and acquired short-sightedness caused by his palsy (especially with reading). Additionally, it's been a wonder how ptosis symptoms in his right eye that've stemmed from the palsy have been eased with the monocle supporting that side of his face.

WALTER ALSO HAS PERIPHERAL HYPER-MOBILITY SPECTRUM DISORDER most notably impacting his hands, wrists and fingers, but more broadly affecting his ankles and feet too. In recent years, Walter's found that the symptoms have been worsening and spread to his knees, too, but he's never spoken openly about this and resents it greatly. The records from Hellsing-pocket Doctors making note of the degeneration of his condition have always been burned, almost as though destroying them could silence the truth in some way.

THE PURPOSE OF THE GLOVES, while Butlers wearing gloves is a tale as old as time, Walter wears them not to uphold old traditions of cleanliness and not smudging things - but rather to hide the slight but noticeable gaps at the center of each of his fingertips where he ejects the monofilament from, which is unfortunately essential when facing the public. He removes them the second he gets behind closed doors and happily does that.

WALTER HAS A COMPLICATED RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS DISABILITIES, BUT THEN AGAIN, HE HAS A COMPLICATED RELATIONSHIP WITH EVERYTHING

WALTER RE: THE WIRES AND THEIR IMPACT ON HIS BODY, the designs of the Late Hellsing and Seward, while innovative, were... imperfect. Flawed even. Walter REFUSES to come to terms with it, but the wires, despite their impeccable qualities, have been degrading his body MORE than gradually. They are the single leading reason for his Hyper-Mobility Spectrum Disorder; they have been EATING at the cartilage and connective tissue in his limbs and making his gradual decline far quicker than had ever been previously believed.

WALTER GOT HIS WIRES IN AN OPERATION AT TEN. It was a deeply invasive affair that left Walter bedridden for months. Directed by Seward and Hellsing loyalists and conducted by the last design of the Late Abraham Van Hellsing and his mentee Seward. WALTER CONSENTED AT THE TIME, IN FACT, HE WAS EAGER ABOUT IT AND THE PROMISE. Walter wanted the prestige, the power, to feel purpose and drive and to have something that was his, that defined him, and the miserable life he'd been gifted that was always at the mouth of the river, leaving him looking up at the source and the promise he had been born outside of and dreaming. HOWEVER, IT WAS STILL SKETCHY AF AFFAIR, AND AS THE WORD OF GOD, IT WAS, WITHOUT A DOUBT, AN INCIDENT OF ADULTS EXPLOITING THE LACK OF KNOWLEDGE, INNOCENCE AND EAGERNESS OF A CHILD FOR PERSONAL BENEFIT.

WALTER'S LOVE LANGUAGE IS QUALITY TIME. Walter, while a womanizer, is no adept man in the art of romance - some would call him a tad clumsy, but that's not it, nor would it be right to call him cold or unromantic. Walter is simply... atypical. He doesn't enjoy grand gestures of romance or constant touch - Walter is a man of boundary, and his ideal form of love is the quiet, cat-like sort of co-existing in joy. Can he perform his duties and passions and look over to see someone he is fond of simply existing - caught in their natural environment and at peace WITH him? That's ideal for him.

WALTER IS A SOMMELIER. Read as Wine Snob, not only for his job, but he just really enjoys wine!

WALTER AND BEING A BACHELOR IS A DELIBERATE CHOICE. He's had proposals passed onto him, and thrice, he's declined. He's had his girls and boys, but never committed even to the point of being considered lovers. Walter is simply most at ease on his lonesome, and though it might seem lonesome at the surface, it's ideal for his line of work and his love style.

HE ALSO IS ALLERGIC TO DEEP COMMITMENT BUT SHHHH

WALTER DOES A LOT OF WORK AND TAKES A LOT OF PRIDE IN KEEPING HIS APPEARANCE. Sorry, I KNOW this man wears expensive colognes that he has organized for the seasons, has all his suits and tail coats properly fitted and has a skincare routine. He IS the type, and I love that for him. His toiletry cabinet is more stuffed with product than either Integra or Seras' COMBINED! He will not leave his room until his hair is slicked back and he smells like sandalwood ON GOD.

THOUGH THAT BEING SAID, HE IS LONELY IN THE SENSE THAT HE FEELS DEEPLY ALONE WITHOUT PEERS; he simply doesn't see most other people, most other creatures, as on his level. In that, and his arrogance, he is deeply alone, but it's a cage of his own creation.

HE LOVES INTEGRA LIKE A DAUGHTER, AND I REFUSE TO SEE IT ANY OTHER WAY; he helped raise that girl - a constant, familiar face in the background of her youngest years. He watched her be born in the house, he was one of the first that held her - she was one of few she gave a big smile to as a baby (she was one of few things that ever made him reconsider his decision to never want children), she watched her walk, then run and grow into a girl and then a confident young woman. And when it comes to the betrayal :,)

I could make an ENTIRE post detailing my thoughts about it and how I portray it, but Walter had been turned into a Freak a long, long time ago, and by the time he met Integra (as in, she was born), he was too far gone to be saved, and he knew it. There was a gun to the back of his head - he had the chip, and he could be toast at any moment; he... well, he selfishly did what he needed to do to survive. Sometimes, the awful truth is that both things can co-exist, and a person can be caught between love and survival and still choose survival, even after everything.

I'm 10000% on copium with this. Still, I feel his whole Ebony Darkness Dementia speech to Integra was to VILLAINIZE HIM AND HIS MEMORY IN HER MIND - he spent DECADES selfishly loving her and raising her, and he knows she returned those feelings. They never spoke about it, but he KNEW. She'd ask him his opinions (even when he, as a servant, wasn't entitled to those against the word of his lord), request him to have dinner upstairs with her and attend church functions alongside him, even when she was a grown woman. He was one of the most consistent fatherly figures she had. He became that for her, but he doesn't want her to spend any years agonizing or grieving over another dead father. Telling her he's a mustache-twirling evil that has always plotted her downfall is another selfish lie. Still, he hopes and needs to believe that maybe, maybe, that'll make it easier on her heart to cope with the rug-pull, his defection (and death) and losing yet another dad.

WALTER IS INTEGRA'S MOST ADAMENT APOLOGIST AND DEFENDER; this is another truth of mine I will take to the grave, and Hirano can fight me. It's not Walter's place as a servant to feel that level of protection over his master - even given his place, having watched her grow. Still, something alien takes over his sensibilities when he hears people speak against her brazenly, and he'll stamp it out in his own petty way. He's her dad, your honour!

[just-some-random-blogger]

Rebel

Prince!Kylo Ren x Cage Fighter!Reader

Summary: Prince Kylo was a rebel at heart. His grandfather, Emperor Anakin, was on his final limb trying to groom the boy into becoming a good Skywalker, but it seems he was too preoccupied with things outside his duty to care.

Word Count: 9k+

Warnings: fem!reader, alternate universe, slight modern/contemporary world au?, royal family-ish au, enemies with benefits?, smut (sadism, dom/sub dynamic, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, light bondage), kylo is going through a phase ig, yucky smoker!kylo (don't smoke pls), slow burn, typos, etc.

A/N: Felt like cross posting this on AO3 also minors dni you guys arent ready for this because I'm not ready for this HAHAAHHA my brain farts are real. also if there's anything wrong with my star wars lore just roll with it ok it's the beauty of my au world HAHHAH <3 Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx

"Put that out before father sees you."

Kylo looks over his shoulder, pulling away the cigarette from his lips as he blows smoke from his lungs. He looks at his mother and sighs, "my father or your father?"

Leia eyes her son, "Ben-"

"Kylo," he corrects, taking another puff of his smoke.

The crown princess narrows her eyes and with one flick of her finger, the barely burning cigarette shoots out of his fingers, across the hall.

"Bro- what the fu-"

"See," she places her hands on her hips, "you would have been able to stop me if you trained with Luke more often," Kylo's mother offers as she leans into him and sniffs his rank smoker odor, brushing him off as she did.

Leia's son, who towers over her, cringes as he is pat down harshly.

Leia notes, "you reek."

"Stop it," he quips as his shoulder is swatted with way more force than necessary. Kylo curls his arms over himself in protection. She does not relent, and so he calls, "mom!"

Leia sighs and places her hands on her hips, "no, you're right," she looks up at him, "I should just let the emperor catch you," she raises a finger, "and let's be honest. Even if you trained more with Luke," she turns about, " you still wouldn't be able to best me."

The woman marches off, mentally noting to rant to her son's father about him.

Kylo grunts as he watches his mother walk away. By the time she reaches then end of the hall, Kylo rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He pulls out his sleek, silver box of cigarettes and grabs a stick. He turns around as he begins to light the thing lazily pressed between his lips.

He doesn't get to though. His fire is burnt out by the ominous snippy atmosphere and his lighter slips through his fingers.

Immediately, the cigarette falls after, down to his boots and he grows frigid at the sight of the slouching man before him, hand propped on a cane, face concealed in a dark mask.

"Emperor. I-"

"Continue to disappoint?" he speaks through the constraint of his mask, not even raising a finger to get both the fallen objects on the floor as well as the one in Kylo's hands.

The emperor chucks out those hazards through the window, using so much Force that it probably propelled out of orbit. Kylo internally begins to sputter out curses.

"Why are you roaming here in the gardens, killing your grandmother's flowers, boy?" the old man demands, breathing heavily.

Kylo gulps and clenches his hands into a fist.

"Are you not meant to be training with your uncle?" Anakin quips, taking a deep breath as he slowly walks past his grandson.

Kylo tenses and steps aside to allow the emperor passage. He knows better than to do so, and yet he still offers, "do you want some hel-"

"Do you have a death wish?" Anakin wheezes as he heads to the arch in the hall, not even sparing his hulk of a progeny a look. He would have beaten his ass in his prime, he thinks, as he makes his way into the palace garden.

Immediately, Anakin feels a Force around him. He basks in it and Kylo can feel it too, though he thinks the Force is coming from his mother's father.

Anakain swears he can smell the scent of his beloved Padme in this moment. He mentally debates taking his mask off, but decides against it, knowing his child's child will throw a hissy fit, then his actual children will throw another hissy fit.

Kylo does nothing but watch the old man walk off. He thinks of the few memories he has with his grandmother then goes terse all over again when he hears a shout, "GO TRAIN, BOY!"

Kylo releases a breath, "yes sir."

Anakin, after a long while, finally reaches a bench and sits down. He looks at the flowers in the shrubs and bushes around him. He breathes in deeply, as deeply as his mask will allow him then closes his eyes. He pretends he was not himself, rather that he was his younger self. He thinks about his wife and how he would have plucked out a flower for her in this moment.

"Oh, Padme," instead he sighs, "you're grandson is a rebel, my love. I don't know what to do with him," he opens his eyes, "but you would have."

Kylo, at this point, had successfully fled the wrath of his forebears, and was now at the garage, readying his air speeder. He ruffles his black, baggy jeans with infinite pockets and feels his key eventually. He jumps in his vehicle and finds another box of cigarettes in his compartment.

"Thank you, Kylo," he mutters to himself as he gets another stick of nicotine.

He lights his cigarette as he waits for the garage door to open.

But then came a high-pitched beeping noise, and he immediately pulls away the lit stick in his mouth.

R2-D2 rambles on and on in his dings and buzzes in a scolding manner.

Kylo's ears ring. Fucking droid. He rubs his ear then turns to his side. He watches as the robot nears rolls back and forth as it chastises him.

"Can it, tin can."

R2-D2's light becomes red.

Kylo clutches his steering wheel, "if you rat me out to grandpa, I'll turn you into a museum display."

R2-D2 flares even more at the threat.

"Well, I don't give a shit if uncle Luke is waiting for me," he snips back, staring his engine, then driving off. He raises a hand, "later, loser."

R2-D2 loses its marbles.

Kylo drives deep into the capital city, the part that was more commercial and had less military presence. But really, the old man's reach was felt throughout the galaxy. It'd be a matter of time before his fun is over. That's why he intends on having as much fun as he possibly can.

He aimlessly roams for a moment, driving through streets he frequents, and some he doesn't recall he's ever been. He leans on his side and feels the wind blow back his jaw length hair. Then he finds himself parking in a coincidentally free spot on a busy street.

It's destiny, he thinks.

So, he pulls up in the edge of the street and hops out of his air speeder, aimlessly walking around. He pulls out his comms device and sends a message.

From Kylo: where u?

He shoves his comms back in his pocket, keeping his hands stuffed there, knowing he wouldn't get a response from his friend any time soon. He walks to the edge of the street, stops right at a pedestrian lane, then crosses once the light turns green.

As he struts past a conveniece store, he turns to his barely visible reflection and runs his hands through his hair. The street grows increasingly busy as he continues. It's packed with people on the daily their commute, off to work, to school, or to wherever they ought to be. With every being that passes him, human, alien, droid, or otherwise, he slowly feels the paranoia seep in him.

He rubs his nose, 100% sure that that old lady was whispering about him.

He was being watched, he was being looked at, he was being talked about. A work hazard, something you deal with as royalty. He likes to pretend he's better than that, public opinion doesn't matter to him, but he isn't a very good pretender.

He clears his throat, pulls out the shades he always kept handy on him, and puts them on. Suddenly, he's not as paranoid.

In truth, if you knew the faces of the Skywalker clan, not even these large glasses would stop you from recognizing him. But still, he felt better with them on. The only reason he probably did was because the little boy in him still believed the words of his father.

Ben had been 4 or 5 at the time, and had been struggling with the attention from the general public and the press. Han Solo had gave him shades, the very same one he had now, and told him when he had them on, he'd be invisible. It helped that his dad, mom, and uncle were in on it and pretended he was when he'd wear them. The servants were quick enough to follow suit. His grandfather though, ever the cynic, never played the game with him, and always told him to put the ridiculous thing off.

He figured then of course the emperor could see him. He had superior connections with the Force.

Kylo crosses the street.

A group of school girls catch sight of him and stare as he walks by. Once he's gone, they squeal and gush over how handsome he was.

Kylo feels his comms vibrate.

To Kylo: At work. Can't come.

Kylo snorts, then turns to his side when he smells an alluring savory scent. He sees the burrito stand and walks over as he replies.

From Kylo: im getting burritos

Kylo walks to the order window and decides he'll get what he always gets. The employee begrudgingly walks over to the window and leans on the table by the window, "Good morning," she says flatly, "what can I get you?"

Kylo examines at the bandage she has on her brow and the swollenness of her cheek. He knows it'll turn blue soon, but he doesn't say that, "two classic burritos, one of them with extra radish."

She nods and then punches up Kylo's order on the register, "12 credits."

Kylo pulls his head back, "12? It's 4.50 each."

"Not anymore for a long time," she mutters in response, shifting in her spot.

Kylo lets out a breath, thinking it's a ridiculous price, but pays 12 credits nonetheless.

He receives another message.

To Kylo: No.

Kylo snorts yet again at his text mate. He moves to the side and waits for his order. In the meantime, he looks around the block, thinking of what else he can do to amuse himself.

From the corner of his eye, he spots the sign The Death Star, and chuckles under his breath. He uses his Force to try and see what exactly this death star was, and then quickly realizes it was a cage fighting arena.

Kylo smirks.

From Kylo: come to 12th street. we're watching a cage fight in the death star :D

Kylo turns around when he hears his order get called out. He says quick thank you to the man who gives him his burrito. He looks at him and his pudgy form, then examines his knuckes before he pulls away. He spots, seeing no bruise on them. He definitely wasn't the one who punched the lady that worked here.

Kylo then crosses and heads to The Death Star. He looks at his comms one last time before heading for the entrance.

To Kylo: ????

"Moron," he chuckles to himself.

He reaches The Death Star, finding it had a small entrance with guard big enough to block it whole.

"50 credits," the bouncer says to him.

Kylo looks at the man. He was twice as big as the one who worked at the burrito shop. Still, Kylo thinks he could take him.

"Why so expensive?" he asks.

The bouncer rolls his shoulders back, "you got a problem, peasant? Then leave."

He does not like that. The bouncer was on the steps leading up to the door, which was why he was about as tall as Kylo. He wonders if he should force choke him and walk in, but then he feels a buzz from the comms in his pocket and is snapped out of it. He pays the over-expensive door fee then walks in, eating his burrito.

"Just keep walking straight then go down the stairs," the bouncer says, "you can't miss it."

He doesn't miss it. He immediatly spots the stairs, finding it went both up and down. Kylo looks up in curiosity. He figures if he instead went upstairs, there would most definitely be someone there waiting him to throw him down. He simply just descends with his burrito.

Once he reaches the only place the stairs lead to, he surveys the setting, wondering why there were chandeliers and drapes in this foyer when he knows once he gets to the area where the crowds were screaming, there would be a semi-large cage and audience members hollering for blood. Weird.

But then again, his grandpa lived in a palace and he was out for his blood.

He takes it back. It's fitting.

He continues to walk, chewing on his food, then get into the arena, at the very edge of it. It seems the round just finished, considering the reaction of the crowd.

Kylo promptly finds an empty spot, then sits down as he watches the cage get swept. It looks like a droid was shattered after the match.

He chuckles when he imagines it being R2-D2.

It takes a few minutes for the next round to commence, and by the time it does, Kylo's burrito was finished.

At this moment, he pulls out his comms and sees he's received multiple messages. He grins when he sees the one that confirmed that he was, in fact, going to be seeing his friend here at the death star soon.

There is a loud announcement suddenly, and the crowd goes wild. Soon enough two competitors are announced, and Kylo perks up and tilts his head when he sees the face of one of them, you, the burrito lady.

Kylo, is so stunned that has to push his shades down to see if he was seeing clearly. Yep. Still 20/20.

There you were, standing no longer in your burrito-stand uniform, but in fitted shorts and a fitted tank top. You had wraps in your hands and feet, and the marks on your face made total sense now.

Kylo leans back on his seat and pushes his shades up.

You got them from your cage fights.

He finds himself smiling.

Interesting.

"- with 27 wins and 2 losses-"

Hmm, an impressive record.

Kylo cannot help but to cheer with the crowd as it screams for you after you are introduced. An interesting name you had. He'll have to remember that.

Both you and your opponent's hands are raised just before the start of the match.

The prince nods his head and thinks he will enjoy seeing you win or lose today.

Halfway through the match, as Kylo is screaming for you as you bash your knee into your opponent, who was, mind you, twice your size, he is grabbed my the arm and ripped out of his focus.

Kylo turns annoyed then breaks into a smile, speaking loudly over the audience' noise. "Hux! You're just in time." Kylo hands the man the burrito with extra radish, then turns back to the cage, "burrito girl is really good!"

Hux takes the burrito and looks at Kylo, then the cage. The dark haired man clenches his hand into a fist and cheers as the round is called to an end.

The red haired man pulls his head back after beholding the collective protests.

"AW WHAT! SHE TOTALLY WON THAT ROUND!" Kylo snarls against the announcement that your slimy alienoid opponent was the victor for round 3.

Kylo sits back down and cross his arms. Hux sits down next to him and gives him a look, "you're insane, you know that right? D'you know what would happen to us if someone-"

"And you're boring," Kylo retorts, running his hand through his dark locks.

Hux holds back his eyeroll, and shakes his head instead. His ginger, gelled back hair reflects the glaring spotlights in the room. Hux unwraps his burrito and takes a bite, crossing his legs as he did so.

Kylo turns to him, mentally noting he appreciated he came to him right after work, the give away being he was still in uniform. Hux's sharp shoulder pads starkly contrasted the softness of his frumpy sweater, though they were both black.

"Extra radish," he points.

Hux nods and rolls his eyes, "yes," he chews, "thank you, Ben."

Kylo glares at him.

Hux chews some more, then corrects himself, "Kylo."

Kylo turns away, looking back at the cage.

The next round promptly begins and Kylo is visibly excited. He talks over the loud cheers of the crowd, "we're going to meet her after the round."

Hux knits his brows as Kylo stands to his feet and claps for the competitors.

"Meet? Who?"

"Her!" Kylo points to the cage.

Hux looks.

"I paid 500 credits to have her company to ourselves later," Kylo says with a fond smile.

Hux nearly chokes on his burrito, "you what?!"

He is dutifully ignored for the rest of the match.

When the match does end, Hux thinks of Kylo's decisions even more poorly. The prince is incredibly sour, as the match did not end in favor of this burrito girl as he had gotten fond of for no other reason than that he is compulsive.

Hux does not know if he should be mulling over the fact that the girl, who lost the match on a technicality, worked part-time at the burrito shop that made the delicious snack he just ate, or the fact that Kylo, in all his temper and moodiness, was about to meet her when he was extremely disappointed and very emotional over her loss.

Hux, though he knew about Kylo's explosive tendencies, doesn't dare offer to just leave though, considering he basically made himself homeless by paying so much to meet the cage fighter.

That would be funny though, no? A homeless prince.

When Kylo and Hux are let in the back room, the two turn to each other, seeing the poor conditions of the place.

"500 credits dude," you say, standing from the spot you were sat on.

Kylo takes in the cuts and bruises in your form, agreeing with himself that, considering the violence you exacted and received in the ring, you looked extremely well, and came out mostly unscathed.

"You should have won that round," Kylo says shaking his head. He watches as you smile softly at his words. He feels his chest flutter and decides he enjoys the subtleness of your expression. He would love to make you react the same way again, "that thing outnumbered you with his six arms."

You shrug, toned shoulders glistening with sweat and ointment. Now that he was up close, Kylo could see how fit you were. He licks his lips when he catches your barely visible navel.

"A biological advantage," you retort, "it's not like I can ask him to cut off his arms for me to make it fair."

"Still," Kylo raises a finger, "you should have won."

You shake your head at his words, offering another smile, but no further reply.

Hux surveys the dingy room, thinking if you worked at a burrito stand and a cage fighting job, you must be desperate for credits. He turns to you and straightens up, "you know, with your skills, you could do well as a trooper," the commander says, "you would be paid well, given lodging, health care-"

"So you are an imperialist," you place a hand on your hip and point to him.

Commander Hux tenses. Kylo chews his bottom lip as he holds back a laugh.

I mean, Hux was very visibly an imperialist.

"I thought you just liked imperial fashion on whole other level," you add.

Hux finds himself getting defensive, "is that a problem?"

You tilt your head, "liking imperial fashion or being an imperialist?"

Kylo pretends he's offended and knits his brows, speaking at the same time as his friend, "both."

You look between the two and shake your head, "no. It's just weird to see an actual, I don't know, officer from the regiment spectate a match."

Hux narrows his eyes, "why, is this place illegal?"

You snort, and Kylo beams at the idea.

"I wouldn't have joined this troupe if it was."

Kylo is mildly disappointed, but more so amused by the topic that was spiraling and how Hux was reacting to it. Kylo turns back to you when you point at him, "I remember where I know you from."

Hux feels slightly agitated over the idea the prince was going to be recognized.

Kylo smiles and adjusts his shades, "yes, you took my ord-"

"History class, 204, professor Djarin."

"..."

Hux pulls his head back and looks between Kylo and you.

Kylo is dumbfounded. So much so, he takes off his shades, "you went to Naboo Public State?"

You promptly laugh upon seeing his brown eyes, knowing well how much he rolled them at your shared history teacher, "yeah. Djarin called you Skyslugger cause you were always late."

Hux internally cringes, agitation level skyrocketing, because that does sound like something that would have happened to him in school. That meant, you knew exactly who they both were now, which meant, if you wanted, you could happily talk about how a commanding officer and the prince of the empire went to your cage fight match at a place called The Death Star, and paid 500 credits to speak with you after. Lord, he could already hear General Leia's disappointment in his head.

Kylo snorts, though he was more annoyed at the memory than amused, "damn Din Djarin."

"You never graduated, did you?" you ask.

Hux turns to Kylo, wordlessly telling him not to answer that.

Kylo does anyway, "I didn't, no. Parent's pestering me to re-enroll."

That's enough, Ben, Hux thinks loudly.

You tilt you head, "maybe you should."

Hux turns to you and presses his lips, "hear that, maybe you should!"

Kylo turns to him as Hux slaps his hand on Kylo's shoulder. He glares at Hux, "no."

A beat passes.

You look between the two, "so, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Hux instinctively turns to Kylo, prompting you to do the same.

"Well," Kylo starts, leaning onto one leg, crossing his arms.

Hux recognizes this behavior and then makes a face.

"I honestly wanted to just talk about how I think you deserved to win, and perhaps," he moves slightly closer to you, "to invite you to hang out with us."

Hux shakes his head and raises his hands, "count me out. I have places to be."

"Just you and me then," Kylo smiles softly.

Hux rolls his eyes, he was right. Another day, another plaything. He so very much wants to leave now.

But then, Hux catches the way your face twists. He finds his lips curling into amusement as you furrow your brows. You are clearly uninterested, and suddenly, he is glad that Kylo paid 500 credits just to be here. His rejection will be sweet and deserved.

"Your payment for a meet does not extend to outside endeavors."

Kylo nods, leaning towards you more, "oh, I know. Just wondered if you would be interested in getting a drink."

"Well, I'm not."

"Interested in getting a drink?"

"In you, Prince Ben."

Kylo's face twitches. Hux clears his throat to hold back his laugh.

Kylo doesn't have anything else to say and it is hillarious.

Another beat passes.

You shift in your spot as Hux turns around and laughs in his hand. Kylo rubs his nose and straightens up.

"Is that it?" you ask.

Kylo turns to you, ire beginning to burn, "what?"

"Is that all you wanted?" you clarify, waving a hand. "I mean, you paid 500 credits, I can show you around the place if you like."

Hux turns back around and smiles, "oh, please, do. That would be lovely."

Kylo clenches his jaw, "no. I saw everything I needed to see already."

Hux makes a soft oof sound and indulges himself with a chuckle.

"I'm a force user," Kylo says, "I used my Force Sight to see."

"Ah," you nod.

Hux turns to you and nods, "I stand corrected, I think we will both be leaving now."

You purse your lips and shrug, "suit yourself."

Kylo releases a huff. You knit your brows when he nods to you in regard, "burrito girl."

You blink at him, "500 credits dude."

Hux watches as you curtsy at Kylo. He shakes a hand and his head, mouthing, "he doesn't like that."

You straighten up and watch as the two then walk out of the room.

"Oh, if you ever want to apply as a troop, tell them you were recommended by commander Armitage Hux."

You raise your brows at that, "your name is Armitage?"

Hux makes a face at your expression, "what? Why?"

"Nothing it's just, you don't look like-"

"Hux, let's go."

You turn to Kylo, who just walked out of the room.

"Just call me Hux, everyone calls me that."

You purse your lips then nod.

"Goodbye then," Hux waves and follows after his friend.

As Kylo and Hux exit the room, then the arena, the latter notes, "well that was fun."

Kylo ignores him.

Hux chuckles, "oh, come on. She was a good fighter. You said it yourself."

Kylo grunts.

"I especially enjoyed it when she defeated you."

Kylo glares at Hux. Hux grins from ear to ear.

"Do you want me to demote you?" Kylo groans.

"You can't demote me, prince Ben," Hux says a-matter-of-factly as they climb up the stairs.

Kylo eyes Hux as he ascends before him then uses his Force to make him trip on the steps.

As Hux nearly faceplants, barely catching himself with his hands as he crashes down, Kylo steps over him and continues climbing up.

"BEN!"

Kylo hisses harshly, "don't call me that."

Kylo leaves Hux, deciding he deserved it for being annoying. He thinks he'll go get drinks by himself since no one cared to keep him company.

He nearly breaks his comms after all the ruckus it made while he was brooding in a booth at a lounge he frequented. He doesn't destroy it though. It wasn't his to break. It was a gift from his uncle. His mother refused to get him a new one after breaking countless ones before this one. Luke made him swear to keep it intact.

Kylo abandons his booth to get himself another drink after finishing his nth cocktail.

This time around, with his tiny martini glass in hand, complete with a paper umbrella, he decides he's going to dance, even if he was tipsy and, frankly, hated dancing, especially those folkdances his mother and grandmother taught him and made him do every moment they could. Fuck that shit.

Kylo puts the umbrella stick in his hair just by his ear and chugs his drink as he walks to the crowded dancefloor.

He raises both of his hands and sways his hips on beat as he sifts through the creatures dancing to insanely loud music.

He randomly taps someone's shoulder and hands them the glass, which they stupidly accept, allowing Kylo to break it down and boogie freely with no glass to think about. Only his dark glasses.

By break it down and boogie, of course, I meant Kylo was flailing his head and arms around, pivoting his shoulder and belly to the music. Was it good? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

He feels a bunch of people come onto him, grinding on him or dancing with him. He lets them. When they tell him they should take their dancing somewhere else, he refuses.

Eventually, he's turned down a bunch of people and is left alone.

With his forehead damp with sweat, he exits the dance floor when the music changes to something slow.

He decides to get himself another drink.

"Never knew you had that in you, Ben."

He cringes before he even sits down. He turns to the woman in a pink dress next to the stool at the bar he was about to sit on. He feels his brows pull up at the sight of her.

"Don't call me that, burrito girl," Kylo quips as he calls for the bartender.

You furrow brows further, leaning on the bar top, "call you what? Your name?"

Kylo is served another cocktail, the only one he ever orders, without needing to say it. He thanks the bartender as he downs his drink.

You raise your brows at him, watching some of the liquid spill from his corners of his mouth.

Kylo turns to you, wiping his lips, "don't call me Ben."

You blink, "so... you want to me to call you 500 credits dude?"

"Kylo," he retorts, as he racks his brain. He can't seem to remember what he's looking for though, so he asks, "what was your name again?"

You give him a once over before responding.

When he hears your name, Kylo shakes his head, thinking, truly, the only time he heard it was during the match earlier today, "I really don't remember you."

You chuckle, "yeah, more so now than ever."

Kylo looks at the bright pink dress on your body and thinks it looks good on you, "you change your mind then?"

You take a sip of your drink and turn to him, "what?"

"You come here knowing it's where I'd be?" Kylo leans forward.

You raise a brow at him, "no. I came here to meet someone but I got stood up."

Kylo chuckles, "serves you right."

"Excuse me?" you tilt your head.

Kylo grins and stands, "you're excused."

Kylo walks off and heads for the dancefloor again even though the music was still slow. Why? Because fuck it. He was down to slow dance with strangers.

You take your turn to survey Kylo as he drunkenly moves to the dancefloor. He was incredibly large and even through his baggy clothes, you could tell he was quite athletically built. You turn away just before he catches you looking.

The entire time he dances, Kylo's eyes isn't closed like how they were a while ago. He was looking at you, faced to the bar, hunched over in a pretty pink dress, waiting for no one.

Pathetic. You should be dancing here with him.

He dodges a two headed alien that asks if he wants to have a good time and walks back to you.

He calls out your name and grabs your arm, making you turn to him from your seat with a glare that would have intimidated him, but he was drunk, and he could so take you... in more ways than one.

"Forget about that loser. He's not into you. I am. Dance with me."

You gotta hand it to him. He is confident. But then again, it'd be embarrassing to be in line for the throne and not be.

You take a moment to wonder how Kylo could possibly know you were waiting for a guy then decide he was just good at guessing, not that you looked pathetic right now. You pull your arm out of his grasp, "haven't we established I don't like you?"

"Yeah," Kylo scoffs, placing his hands on his hips, "well, I don't like you either."

You narrow your eyes at him, "why do you want me to dance with you then?"

"Because this is what lounges are for!" Kylo flails his hands out, "not for sulking."

You roll your eyes at him and turn away.

Kylo raises a finger and uses his Force to spin you around. When you realize this is what he did, you stand and look up at him, eyes devoid of any amusement, "you know, I don't care who you are. You're seriously pushing your luck right now."

Kylo enjoys a good conflict. He shakes his head the way drunk people do and raises a finger, "if you're going to waste your time waiting on someone you already know stood you up, wouldn't it be better for him to walk in on you having so much fun rather than looking miserable?"

You clench your jaw at his words and tense when he grabs your wrist and pulls you to the dance floor.

This time, you do not refute him, though you drag your feet on the way.

"Only to make him jealous," you say, walking close to Kylo.

Kylo makes a gagging sound, "how corny of you."

You shove him back, and Kylo is taken off guard by how strong you actually are. He collides into a group of people, who promptly shove him back towards you. You grunt as you catch him, keeping him upright.

"You're wasted," you hiss.

Kylo grins, "no, I'm Kylo."

You roll your eyes, pushing him away with less force, then turn around and leave him there.

Kylo grabs your arm before you can walk away any further .To his surprise, you do not repel him and easily fall back into his arms.

"We're meant to dance not to-"

Kylo shuts himself up when you speak a name that is not at all his.

He lifts up his eyes and sees a man looking at you with contempt. Before he can think, you shove him away and walk over to loser. The man eyes Kylo as you walk with him.

Kylo feels a headache coming on. He just stands there in the middle of the crowd, sticking out like sore thumb with how large and unmoving he was, waiting for the headache to come. To his luck, it doesn't.

He decides to go to the bathroom then settle his bill.

He busts open the men's bathroom door, cringing at the sound of moans that come to a halt when he enters. He quickly washes his hands and walks out, pulling out his comms device, sending a message to multiple people to have him get picked up.

He decides to drink some more as he waits.

He downs about three more cocktails before paying his dues and coming to terms with the fact no one was going to pick him up.

He sighs and drunkenly gets out of the lounge, gracelessly bumping into some people along the way.

He is surprised to see a pretty pink dress when he gets out to the curb.

Kylo calls out your name and hears you gasp.

When you turn to him, he swears he sobers up a fraction at the sight of your red eyes and tear stained cheeks.

He coughs and shifts on his spot, "you want me to kill him?" He points to no where.

You knit your brows and cross your arms, "what?"

"I can kill him for you," Kylo mutters.

You make a face and shake your head rapidly, "are you insane?"

"Yes," he mutters, "I don't like it when girls cry over guys-" he brushes his nose, "-s'why I don't date."

For a prolonged moment, you stare at Kylo, at this drunken Ben Solo, second in line to the Skywalker Empire, the same one who laughed at your joke that one time during lunch. You feel incredulous to the events that has transpired.

You weren't shocked that he didn't know you from university. For starters, he was a chronic repeater, turned drop out, which was insane to think considering he let the class copy off his exams, setting a new curve because of how many of them aced that test.

Ben Solo was the cool kid with bad habits, and he hung out with troopers in his spare time, which meant he didn't really know anyone beyond his circle.

And this Kylo persona was just the same as the Ben you once knew. Bigheaded, loud, and rebellious, with streaks of genuinity and thoughtfulness who wouldn't expect from him.

He was a loose canon in other words. This was why you didn't like him, why every time people would gush about him, you'd let yourself think opposite because nothing ever came out of liking a guy like him.

You ask through your clogged sinuses, rather out of context, "why can't I call you Ben?"

Kylo runs his hands through his hair, the umbrella he left there falls on the floor, "cause I don't like him."

"You don't like Ben?"

He shakes his head, "don't wanna be him."

A group of people exit the lounge the next moment, prompting Kylo to walk over to you to make way. You narrow your eyes at his answer and wipe your face. He probably meant he doesn't want to assume his roles as a prince.

You find yourself chuckling.

Everyone's got their own thing, you think.

"You're drunk," you mutter, making him turn to you.

"I'm Kylo," he repeats once more, making you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, I got that, prince."

Kylo grumbles, looking away from you, "shut up."

The word triggers you, because the man you thought you loved and would love you back just spoke the same words to you a while ago. You look at him, emotions flaring up all over again. They manifest in rage and contempt, "no."

Kylo turns back to you, face fully annoyed.

"It's the truth, isn't it?" you stab, "why do I have to shut up about it?"

Kylo shakes his head and let out a deep breath. The smell of alcohol makes you pull back, "now I really don't like you."

You scoff, "well I really don't like you either."

"I didn't even do anything to you," he raises a finger, "and you rejected me?" he retorts in full offence.

You pull your head back at his words.

He begins to trail off, "what? Was I a jerk to you in uni? I wouldn't have been because I barely talked to anyone there, so I know you're just being spiteful."

Is he really on about that? You make a face, "have you never been rejected before."

"Of course I've been rejected," he sputters out, "just not without unfounded reason."

You cannot believe what you're hearing, it was like this moment really was a reply of your earlier encounter.

"Are you trying to say I'm being senseless?"

Kylo scoffs, "I'm saying you getting dumped is the universe balancing itself out."

You let out a dry laugh, "wow," you step on his foot, making him reel back in pain, "asshole!"

Kylo nearly topples over as he pulls his leg back and grunts, "you little shit!"

You very much walk away after that. You manage to storm to the edge of the street before you can't move at all anymore.

It takes the honking obnoxious sounds of Kylo coming near for you to realize it was all his doing.

He comes over like a siren, screaming out in the otherwise quiet street, "give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you out into orbit right now."

You turn to him, feeling just a fraction of a tinge of fear rise up into because he was from a line of powerful Force users after all. But then you remember Ben Solo was all bark and hardly any bite. You scoff, "well, for starters, I don't think you could even if you wanted to."

Kylo laughs. It's honestly pretty dark it makes your skin break out with gooseflesh.

"If you could, you'd have done it by now-" you choke on your last word. Literally, Kylo force chokes you up until he gets close enough to press his hand on your throat.

In all honestly, you were in a damning situation, and yet you were more focused on the way he licked his lips, grit his teeth, and rubbed his fingers on your skin. That, and the fact that you still could actually breathe through the pressure he was putting on you.

You felt your stomach roll.

He pulls you close to him, and before you can think of fighting back, he uses his force to keep your body pinned in place.

He releases you altogether and gives you a once over, "don't underestimate the things I can do."

Kylo looks at the cut on your lip, drawn over with lipstick. He thinks of licking the color off, "the things I want to do to you."

Your heart skips a beat. You huff, hands shooting to his sides the moment he releases you from his Force hold.

His other hands comes to your neck. He tilts your head up at him.

You heave, "and what do you want to do with me... Ben?"

He hisses, "put out that glint in your eye," he steps forward, pressing his fingers into my scalp, "make you beg."

You feel your stomach roll.

It amplifies when Kylo traces the injuries on your face with his fingers.

Needless to say, Kylo was wholly surprised but fully pleased when you got back to your place and didn't put up much a fight against him.

He was a kinky fucker, making you get on your knees, making you do his every whim, making you call him sir.

You figured pretty quickly that he probably craved to be in control, considering how bossy he was. Kylo figured the opposite for you, considering how readily you were to be told what to do.

He fully enjoys making you undress him, especially with all the lip worship you gave on his burning skin. He half regrets making you undress yourself, considering how satisfying it was to see you strip. He would have loved it more had he done it himself. Maybe next time.

He massages your body the moment your bare. He makes it a point not to press on your bruised skin, but then the inner sadist in him felt his insides ignite at the whimper that left your lips when his hand brush over your swollen hips.

"Kylo," you moaned as he kneaded at your sides while he trailed kisses down your sternum.

He lifts his head, smirking as you tugged at his hair, asking for his attention.

"Yes, my sweet?"

With you pressed beneath him on your bed, you buck your hips upward into him. He feels his cockiness double with your neediness.

"I'm gonna have to hear you beg, baby girl," Kylo muses, "that's our deal."

You whimper, "please."

Kylo is insufferable. He grabs your bare thighs and pulls them apart, rubbing himself in your already sopping heat. He pouts, feigning confusion, "please what?"

"Please, sir," you whine.

He laughs, asking again, "please sir what?"

"Please, sir, do something."

How desperate. Adorable.

Kylo sighs and nibbles on your breast as you tighten your legs around him, "hmmm, let me take my time."

Your soft flesh reluctantly retreats out of his mouth as you force his head off you by lifting it up. Your nipple is grazed out of Kylo's teeth as you shimmy beneath him, pushing your way down against his wishes, wanting nothing more than to be aligned on him.

You want to be a brat? Game.

Next thing you know you're paying your dues, pressed on your knees, hands bound to the bed with his belt as he lets your needy core drip down your parted thigh as he barely touches you with his fingers.

"One more time," Kylo coaxes as you sob and whine.

"I'm sorry, sir," you sigh in defeat, eyes watering at the edging.

Kylo shushes you, though he laughs and shifts behind you. Your body jolts you feel him grab your hips that have been tirelessly hanging in the air, waiting for this very moment to come to pass.

"Now, remind me what you want again?" Kylo says as he brushes the tip of his length against your entrance.

You let out a pathetic cry, feeling your core flutter in anticipation. You desperately cry out his name.

He appreciates it, but it isn't an answer. He tells you this exactly.

"Need you," you mutter, "need you to fuck me."

Kylo's ego is through the roof. "Need me to fuck you?" he repeats, though he does not give away how much that strokes his ego.

He does not forget your lack of respect though, "where's that sir, baby?"

You nearly sob as you repeat yourself, "need you to fuck me, sir."

You let out a lewd noise when you feel him slowly push into you.

You immediately try to fuck yourself onto him, but you're too delirious, and he's too strong for you to follow through. Kylo locks you in place, pulling you tightly against him, "hold on, pretty girl. Don't ruin this for me. Need you to calm down and take me well."

All you can do is pull at your bounds, further helping the bruises form there for visibly.

"Kylo," you groan in an empty threat and desperate plea.

"Okay, okay," he chuckles, slowly beginning to move.

You graciously moan in response.

He immediately quickens his pace.

Your noises grow louder.

Kylo wonders about your neighbors. He smiles and decides he doesn't care though. The next moment he thrusts into you so punishingly, as if it was a punishment. But no it felt so good.

Your bodies slamming against each other makes your bed creak in distress as it, itself, ruts into the wall behind its headboard.

You drool on your arm as you breathe hotly against it.

Kylo drives you further into insanity by rubbing into clit.

Needless to say, the next thing you know, you're making even more of a mess and your legs begin to give out as he continues to brutalize into your tenderness.

You come around him with a frantic cry and feel your body quake and tighten around him.

The ripples of ecstasy continue to ride out and heighten when Kylo comes inside you, pouring all his heat, frustration, and want into you.

He basks in your wetness the way you bask in his hardness. Your toes curl and your air leaves you. Kylo's rigid thrusts continuously grow sloppier.

A few moments pass and you both go putty.

You very much remember going for a less intense, more intimate round two after, with him leaning against your headboard and you maneuvering up and down him as your chests pressed together. You very much also remember Kylo curling into you later that night.

What you don't remember was ever kissing him, or feeling him get up to leave the morning after.

So it was a big fuck you when you saw him later that day, with his stupid ass shades in the middle of the afternoon as he whimpered over a ticket.

You made a mental note of the make and plate number of his air speeder next time he makes a mistake of parking it here.

The truth was, Kylo had been waiting for you at the burrito store, not knowing you didn't have a shift that day, and once the pudgy guy, a funny guy honestly, name Marley, told him he couldn't loiter there, he bought a burrito and asked where you were. Marley told him that you didn't have a shift today, so then he made Marley promise to pass a message to you. Kylo trusted him to tell you that he wanted to apologize for leaving.

That fucking summit earlier today was so fucking boring.

And Marley did mean to pass the message on, it's just that he forgot after taking so many burrito orders.

So it came as an even bigger fuck you when Kylo came to your match that same day, cheering you on.

What you wouldn't do to have him trapped in this cage with you.

You made it a point to tell the guys at The Death Star, not to let 500 credits dude anywhere near your changing room later that day, nor to let him in the place again, in fact, unless he was willing to pay 500 credits as a door charge.

So the next day, guess who wastes 500 credits trying to get into The Death Star for absolutely no reason?

Kylo does.

You didn't even fight that day.

The day after that, he has half the brain to go to the burrito stand again instead.

You nearly lunge at him and the stupid shades propped on his pointed nose through the window when he says, "you made your guy charge me 500 credits as a door fee?"

"Sorry, I only do burritos here," you quip back, "don't know what you're talking about."

Kylo brings out some units, "20 burritos then," he raises a finger, "I'll give a tip only if they're made by you."

You growl at him, nearly swatting the credits off the window sill, "the fuck do you need 20 burritos for?"

"I have a family!" Kylo calls back.

"And you're their burrito provider?" you scoff back.

"I am, actually," Kylo growls, "this is the only place in the capital that has nice burritos!"

Marley overhears this and pushes you aside, "why thank you, Kylo."

Kylo turns to him, clearing his throat, "it's not really a compliment. It's my opinion."

Marley beams, "and a great one! You know, I've been meaning to tell you, you look so much like our star prince, Prince Ben Solo."

You watch as Ben Solo cringes and waves his hand, "trust me, we look nothing alike."

You scoff at him.

Marley doesn't get to refute that as suddenly, he remembers something and turns to you, "oh," he gasps, "that reminds me. Kylo was here when you didn't have a shift and said he wanted to speak to you."

You pull your head back, "what?"

Kylo's eye twitches, "wait, are you saying you didn't pass my message to her?"

Marley turns to Kylo, "well, I was stacked up with burrito orders-"

The ding of an alarm from behind you indicates that you no longer have to listen to him, as your shift just ended.

You're not dealing with this.

You immediately hang up your apron and promptly leave, heading out the back, trailing down the narrow alley.

Before you could even reach the end of the exit, you jolt back when you see a heaving Kylo run up to you and block your passage.

You glare at him, watching his adam's apple bob as he gulped. You, yourself, gulp at that.

"I had to leave because I had a duty early in the morning," he rushes out.

You huff and push past him, shoving him back. Again, he forgets about your strength, not that he remembers much about that night beyond your sweet sounds, and is shocked when he nearly topples back.

Kylo does feel something familiar with how he uses his Force to keep you from walking away.

"Kylo, I will fucking deck you, I swear to--"

"I didn't think of leaving a note because I panicked and I'm an idiot."

Kylo circles around you and raises his hands in surrender. He accepts the consequence of you decking him if you really meant to once he removes his Force hold.

You sigh deeply, but don't bash his head against the pavement. He is grateful for it.

"So," Kylo starts, "do you still hate me?"

You narrow your eyes at him and scoff, "what is that? An apology with no apology?"

Kylo watches you walk off and chases after you, not at all convincingly responding with a, "I'm sorry!"

To be fair, even he could tell that he sounded more confused that apologetic.

"Take a hike, Ben."

Kylo growls. He pulls his shades off and manages to stand in front of you. He clenches his jaw and points with his glasses, "you know what. I hate you too."

Your face contorts. You scoff, "great," you force a smile, moving on.

He blocks you again when you sidestep, "you have made me spend thousands of credits in such a short span of time."

You sidestep once more, only to have him block you.

"I never asked you to do any of that!"

"So you're not sorry," Kylo narrows his eyes.

"Not at all," you gleam.

"Then that fucking does it!" he barks.

You look up at him as he seethes.

He steps forward, "you hate me, cause I'm an dick, and I hate you, cause you're a bitch."

You let out an incredulous laugh and feel your insides rage.

You grab him, intent on seriously hurting him, but it seems he anticipates it and grabs you right back then spins you over. He pushes you against the wall of the dingy building, pinning you against his body.

He can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

You can feel your heart hammering in yours.

Neither of you can tell the other felt the same.

"Let me go, you fucking-"

"But I'm sure you can't say fucking without thinking of me fucking you, huh," he mutters under his breath as he brings his face near yours.

You tense at his words. You feel your breathing strain after.

Kylo's lips barely curve.

Defiantly, yet halfheartedly, you mutter under your breath, "fuck you."

He leans in and rubs his nose against your ear, "that can be arranged."

When Kylo releases you, you shove him back and walk off.

He heaves as he watches you storm away. He releases a breath in annoyance and licks his lips, finding himself gritting his teeth at his shoes. He got all worked up for nothing?

"Hey!"

Kylo lifts his head

"You better keep watching my matches," you say, turning to him as you walked back, "I get a cut from the door charge."

Kylo shifts in his spot. He does not show how he is pleased to know you want him to come to you again, "that 100% markup is cruel."

You shrug, "well, I hate you, so..."

Kylo holds back his laugh, "you'll pay for that, pretty girl."

You ignore the way your stomach rolls at his pet name. "Make me," you mock, turn away, then walk off, "see you, Ben."

Kylo scoffs, "oh, I'll make you."

[arokalypse]

fantasizing of making aro zines and dropping them off in random cafes or public transits. Hmmm. Hmmmmmmm.

PS it seems like a good thing to do especially in a place where aromantic is an unknown term. Watch me brain fart beneath the cut.

Could do this as a sillay way of spreading awareness because im frustrated with the lack of awareness and understanding here... ...

Are people gonna treat it like it's litter? Like dunk it in the bin without bothering to look?

Are the shopkeepers of said cafe or bus drivers gonna chase my ass as i leave it on the table/chair and say "ma'am u left somein"

is this dangerous to do?

Why won't i just spread awareness normally? Can't do that. Im socially isolated at this point and I've withdrawn from many communities because anywhere I go I'm being romanced. The fucking irony.

Why won't i just post aro things on Facebook? No. Not in the Philippines. I'll get heavily bashed by fellow Filipinos who wont bother to put their real names or faces on that platform. Then get accused with commitment issues. Then everyone bandwagons into the hate train. So no.

Now, is leaving aro zines going to be effective? I don't know. But I am sure as heck that I'm really frustrated. I'm gonna fucking roll on the floor and cry.

Why cant people be fucking normal about aros

[aerbiscuit]

I’m gonna elaborate on a fart-related thought I’ve been contemplating recently. I didn’t share it before because it’s one of those story ideas that are less about sexy fart fixation and more about story/world implications. Also, the subject matter can be a bit sensitive considering the parallels to legitimate health conditions. Still, I wanna get these thoughts down, so I might as well see what people think about them.

What would happen if there was a virus/illness that, after infection and recovery, made people gassier?

This may seem like a silly idea, but as most people are likely already aware, its inspiration is real. Many viruses/infections/illnesses can affect people long after they are actively “sick,” sometimes temporarily and sometimes permanently. COVID-19 has left many people with long COVID symptoms, polio causes paralysis, measles resets the immune system, and yes, some stomach viruses can leave people with IBS and food sensitivities. Gut bacteria can change after an illness, which means an illness can change how the gut functions and what it can digest.

For the sake of this thought experiment, let’s set some ground rules about this entirely fictional illness.

1) It’s not a direct mutation/version of a specific existing illness; essentially, it’s a gastrointestinal virus that’s so unique that we can classify it as “its own thing.” It is very contagious, but similar to most stomach bugs, it is only caught through contact with fecal particles and/or contaminated surfaces, so it can be contained. While it is very contagious during the actual “sick” period, it is much less so after recovery, but more on that later.

Also, for this story, this virus is relatively “new.” One of the reasons that it spreads as much as it does, and there’s as much scrambling to deal with it as there is, is because there really hasn't been anything like it before. This world is still trying to learn what to do about it.

2) The symptoms of the actual “sick” period vary, but they’re not severe. There will be a low fever and a period of intestinal distress, such as cramps and possible diarrhea. It’s not pleasant, but (and this is important), it’s usually not as bad as the really nasty stomach bugs, like norovirus. It’s inconvenient, but may be mistaken for a cold combined with eating something that didn’t sit well with you. This leads into...

3) It is not fatal. No matter your age, sex, state of your immune system, etc., this will likely NOT kill you. The most dangerous this can get is maybe the initial fever (although it’s low) and providing a dehydration risk due to getting the runs during the actual sick period, but even then, it’s not severe enough to be an actual threat.

4) The identifying side effect of catching this illness is that an absurdly high number of people who recover from it get really gassy. It could be classified as a form of IBS, but honestly, it’s more like anything and everything can make them fart. Their gut bacteria gets razed during the “growing pains” of the initial illness, and in their place is a legion of new bacteria that ferments basically anything into farts. Normal food will make them fart, and typically farty food will make them REALLY fart.

5) For most people, these side effects are inconvenient, annoying, and even embarrassing… but not debilitating. Bloating pains can be a bitch, but they can be managed with regular release. In fact, for some people, it can be an improvement if their previous digestive system was somehow less desirable than one that makes you fart all the time. Certain food insensitivities are “reset” if they’re confined to the digestive tract, so if a certain food made you shit your brains out pre-illness, it will only make you fart like a horse post-illness. However, almost anything will make you fart like a horse post-illness, so you win some, you lose some.

This last point is important, as it provides a source of conflict in how this world would handle the illness. Because on the one hand, it’s a contagious illness that almost certainly changes people’s digestive tracts for at least a few years (possibly forever; it remains to be seen). That feels like a significant threat.

But… is it? The illness is avoidable with proper hand-washing and sanitation techniques, so it’s not like it will shut the world down. Also, its mortality rate is practically nil, so there isn’t that fear behind it. As for the farting… well, people have differing opinions on how much of a tragedy it is to get those side effects.

And that leads into the big question: Would people try to catch this illness intentionally?

Statistically speaking, at least some people would try. I’ve been on the Internet long enough to know that some people would jump at the chance to be eternally farty. But there are so many implications that would follow. Would these people start searching for those who are actively sick and try to get infected? Would they seek out people who have recovered and are fart-altered, and have unprotected anal sex with them, hoping for the (very low, but not impossible) chance that the infection will spread to them? Would they just live in hope and anticipation, waiting for the news to announce that there’s a higher risk of encountering the illness in their area?

How would the world reorient itself after the advent of this illness? Would public spaces and events be redesigned as more of the population has to handle needing to fart half the time? Would people become more forgiving about farts, with farts slipping out in public becoming as common as sneezing or coughing, or would chronic farters be judged as those who succumbed to the illness? Would people feel pressured to claim, truthfully or not, that their gas wasn’t due to the illness?

And the thing that some people fear the most: after so many infections and bodies to dwell in, will this virus ever grow into something worse?

… welp, now these thoughts are the Internet’s problem! Hopefully some of you find them interesting.

[pippin-katz]

I think Nick definitely has just a coldness about him. It’s not particularly dudeish, just not very sexual. I got really uncomfortable on his behalf with Taylor “farting” on his neck like that. Intimate scenes are not the places to joke around that’s why there are intimacy coordinators x

Hmm, yes, you're right, there is nothing sexual about this man:

It's not like it's Henry that pushes Alex around, grabs his hair, is the one to suggest they have penetrative sex for the first time, and pretty much leads all of their hook ups, or anything

And tell me you haven't read any of their interviews without telling me you haven't read any of their interviews. You could not be more wrong.

I reblogged a post literally this morning, where a person who used to work in the industry sent in an anonymous ask to a mutual of mine. I'll put what they said here: "I retired from acting in 2019 for obvious reasons and when it comes to intimate scenes you GOTTA do stupid shit like that or else it becomes unbearably uncomfortable. When you’re *that deep* into working an intimate situation your brain doesn’t really know what’s real and what isn’t, and fucking around like Nicholas and Taylor were for half of the shoot prevents you from panicking and thinking “oh fuck I’m being assaulted” and creates a bond between cast members. If you can’t joke around while on set like that you will absolutely and 100% become traumatized"

So not only is it common practice for actors to joke around during intimacy scenes, but Nicholas and Taylor have both EXPLICITLY STATED in interviews that they joked and teased each other during intimate scenes to keep themselves from getting "too in their own heads".

I don't know how many more times I have to say this. I'm going to end up creating a post of screenshots of all the interviews where they talked about this at some point so I can just link it whenever someone says something this stupid to me.

I'm not going to act like you're obligated to read and watch every piece of side content for this movie, but maybe know what the fuck you're talking about if you're going to make a stupid accusation like that.

[d1ana-m0nd]

╭─► ❝The Servant: Umbrella Academy's Servant❞

Five Hargreeves × Female! Reader || Written by Diana (d1ana-m0nd)

➢ Description : A Q&A video with Y/R/N and Aidan Ghallagher featuring a special guest that no one expected.

➢ Word Count : 2,390

➢ Links : Masterlist && Character Profile

➢ Note : Not gonna lie, I am uncomfortable about writing a real person 😭, well, real people in general. That's why in this fanfic, Mr. Gallagher may come off as OOC. So please don't be surprised that I focused more on the reader's chaotic energy to contrast with Mr. Gallagher's tame personality. For the record, Y/R/N means your real name.

Q&A with Aidan Gallagher and Y/R/N ft. Special Guest

Aidan Gallagher smiled, his dimples defining his cheeks, and smiled, “Hey guys! So today we will be having a Q&A again with Y/R/N.”

The actress beside Aidan wore a big smile, she raised her hands and her limbs while the stool she sat on was unbalanced which ended up with her falling on her back. “Ow! Ow!”

“I already warned you, so I’m not even gonna bother saying it.” The brunette chuckled lightly, as he assisted his fellow co-actor to stand up.

“Shut it, Gallagher.” Y/R/N rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the camera, “Anywho, the Q&A will be brief since there were only two questions sent to us.”

The actor noticed the co-actor wore a slightly disappointed look, prompting an amused look to settle on his face. “I thought you didn’t want to stay in the studio that long.”

“I mean, yeah, I don’t wanna stay that long,” She rolled her eyes along with the card she was reading, “But, why does my manager get a lot of questions!?”

“It's not my fault, I’m more interesting than you.” A voice behind the camera called in, prompting the actress to flip off the bird at her manager. Conveniently, the camera cuts off.

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

The brown-haired male read the question out loud, “So the first question is from @groovydazephantom - My question for both Aidan and Y/R/N is whether they have played any pranks on each other or have they played a prank together on an unsuspecting victim?”

“This doesn’t count as a prank. One time, my manager and I were making maruya, it is called ‘banana barbeque’ in English, and well, Aidan walked in on us making them. He asked what we were making. And at the time, I was not paying attention to the conversation because I was watching over the bananas, though my manager had a brain fart at the time. After all, she forgot what maruya was called in English so she just said ‘vegan barbeque’.” The girl recounted as she struggled to bite back a laugh.

“Imagine my surprise when I found out that the barbeque was very sweet.”

The actors laughed in unison, Y/RN was leaning her arm on Aidan’s shoulder as she was laughing as the boy covered the lower part of his face and used his free hand to settle on his thigh. Once they both calmed down, the actress retracted her arm from her friend’s shoulder.

Aidan answered, “Though to answer that question, we have never played any pranks on one another. Well, not intentionally, at least.”

The (your hair color) haired girl read it loudly. “Moving onto the second question, the second question is from @inkedeye2345 - I have a question for Y/R/N and Aidan, do you guys romantically like each other, or just in a friendly kind of way? Cause I kinda ship-”

With a confused expression on her face, the actress turned to the co-star. “Am I too affectionate on camera, enough for them to misinterpret it?”

“Well, I can see why they would misinterpret it but,” The actor grinned at his friend, “You're just physically affectionate. Behind the scenes, Y/R/N is very affectionate with the other actors and staff, she gives surprise hugs from behind or tackles them with hugs. That’s why most of the posts with Y/R/N are just her holding onto someone or hugging them.”

“Well, besides me being physically affectionate to my co-workers and my friends. Please remember that we are friends first, and coworkers second, who are working in the same show, so we would appreciate it if you did not ship us so our working environment isn’t affected. You can ship the characters we play as because, obviously, they are meant to be each other’s love interests but, please don’t let your shipping be overwhelming to the point that it affects our careers.”

The brunette looked at the actress mildly surprised though he seemed proud but, instead took advantage of the situation to tease her. “Oh wow, I didn’t think you had a brain in there-” The girl got off her stool and was ready to wrestle him then, the cameras cut.

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

A girl with a light blue pixie bob cut comes into the frame and sits on the stool. She straightened herself and fixed her bangs a bit even though it still covered her eyes. Several hair accessories decorated her hair as she wore a black long-sleeved shirt underneath, layered with a graphic t-shirt and a pair of green cargo pants.

She shyly waves at the camera and then speaks, “Hi! I’m Diana, Y/R/N’s manager and today I’m here to answer the questions that were sent to me.”

“For this special chapter- And yes, I am breaking the fourth wall because, at the moment I am drained from writing the fifth chapter.” Diana ‘looks’ away with a strained expression as she covers the lower half of her face, “I don’t think my brain and back can handle another writing session. That’s pretty much why this chapter is very scuffed.”

“Besides, I wanted to spoil you guys for my eight-month absence so I went out of my way to write a long chapter and a bonus chapter for you guys. So here you go! And just for clarification, I would have done a Q&A between Aidan and Y/R/N for this chapter special but I didn’t receive enough questions from the last chapter so I decided to just make a chapter special focused on (what I believe to be) questions the readers have in mind.”

QUESTIONS ABOUT WRITING:

Q1: What’s your writing process?

This is rather complicated since I have two writing processes. However, I took the time to make two flowcharts just to show the process with a brief explanation included. By the way, the flow chart templates used in this post do not belong to me, I used the free templates that were available in Canva.

If you want an in-depth explanation regarding the process, just ask me in the comments or send an ask regarding it because I’m willing to delve further into the process. I’m not going to go into detail here because I don’t think some people are interested in that but, I am allowing you guys to reach out to me if you want writing advice or want to learn more about writing.

Q2: Why do you take so long to publish a chapter?

Firstly, I have ADHD. For the record, I am not using it as an excuse, just dropping it off because you guys need context. Due to my late discovery of the disability, I started with a messy life with me struggling with school, my hobbies, and my mental health. Thus, led me to keep pushing off my passion projects, like this writing blog.

Secondly, I had a boyfriend at one point, and now he’s my ex-boyfriend. Before I discovered my ADHD, I made an unwise decision to confess to that jerk, then, later on, dedicate my 6 months to that jackass, only to realize how it was one-sided, only to find out that he accepted my confession out of pity then, and then found out from him that he cheated on me. Besides that unwise decision, at the time, I thought I would dedicate more of my time to him if I stopped my hobbies to spend more time with him.

And lastly, I am in college, like everyone else I was cursed with growing up, and I am taking a lot of time to adjust to this new environment. It doesn’t help either that I am still trying to organize my life with the help of professionals and a lot of research on my end. At the moment, I want to focus on adjusting to this environment before I integrate my hobby.

In conclusion, external factors like my disability and my new environment are the reasons why I take so long to publish. We do not talk about thy ‘boyfriend ’ since he doesn’t exist in Ba Sing Se.

Q3: What do you use for your writing?

Applications:

Google Document / Notes - auto-save, on the phone you can write offline

Google Translate - read the text(s) out loud to analyze if it sounds natural

Tumblr / Pinterest - prompts, dialogues, ideas

Extensions:

Grammarly - edit

Wordtune / Quillbot - paraphrase

Power Thesaurus - gives definition and synonyms

Q4: Do you plan on making another fanfic series in the future?

I plan to make two more fanfic series for ‘One Piece’ and ‘Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse’.

If you have any questions regarding making fanfic or writing in general, feel free to drop them in my ask box or the comments in this post! I’ll answer them to the best of my ability but, I cannot promise I will respond on time though. So I apologize in advance for the late response.

QUESTIONS ABOUT FANFICTION:

Q1: Why did you discontinue ‘The Servant’ fanfic series? Do you plan to pick it up and finish it in the future?

If you missed the announcement, here's the post. And I responded to the second question in this ask. If I do change my mind in the near future, I will make an announcement regarding it.

Q2: What are the things you wanted to add in the fanfic but never got to?

➢ In season 2, I was debating whether Y/N would be a bartender or a pole dancer. I couldn’t really decide so I planned to make a poll once I finished writing season 1.

➢ In season 2, I was thinking of giving Y/N a scythe. However, I dismissed the idea since I was not sure how the fight scene with Lila worked, the final battle I mean.

➢ In season 3, Y/N is a bellgirl assisting around the hotel, and a girl tries to flirt with her but the girl is awkward about it and ends up asking her friend (in their native language) what she should do. Y/N understands their conversation and misinterprets it as the girl being unable to speak English so she speaks to them in their native tongue. You can imagine how that ends lol.

➢ In season 3, when Victor comes out, Y/N is supportive but is awkward and unsure about what to do. Kinda acts like those parents who try too hard to be supportive.

Q3: Who is Y/N Rosseweisse based on?

The Servant is based on Rita Rosseweisse (HI3), Noelle (GI), and Baam 25th (TOG).

I don’t recall why I based Y/N on Rita Rosseweisse but, I think my decision was influenced by the fact that I was playing HI3 at the time. I liked how elegant and graceful she was, and how she held herself. As for Noelle and Baam 25th (S1), most of their personality influenced her character, the same can be applied to Baam 25th (S2) and Rita but it will only become more apparent in the TUA S2 though.

Here are the traits that Y/N got from the mentioned characters: humble, polite, obedient, will do any means to attain the goal (in S2), commendable work ethic, eager to learn, hard worker, empathetic, calculating (in S2), put the academy’s needs first before her’s (more will be revealed on S1 Chapter 8 or 9), naive, socially awkward, inexperienced, perfectionist, detached from society, distant.

Baam 25th’s ability to master things at first glance / Technique Replication / Instant Learn is one of the powers I gave her. In season 1, I don’t get to focus on this but, in season 2 when she gains more experience in the real world and learns new things, she will start to use it more often though it’s more treated like something she can’t control, since she was never trained properly by Reginald Hargreeves.

Q4: What is your biggest struggles when writing the series?

You guys won’t believe this but my biggest struggle is actually writing a chapter. It’s a common struggle for writers but, I think this is a common struggle for any creative individual. It sounds so bloody ridiculous but, I can’t bring myself to sit my ass down and pull out my google docs. I always end up getting distracted with things that aren’t related to the task at hand. One minute I’m researching adrenaline, then the next thing I know I’m looking up ‘Which side of the body hurts the most when stabbed? ’ If you're curious, the answer is front because that’s where most of the organs and pain receptors are, you can still survive if stabbed from the back though your lungs and spine will be the main target, and there is a slim chance of you surviving if your spine got bye-bye.

If you have any questions regarding the fanfic, feel free to drop them in my ask box or the comments in this post! I’ll answer them to the best of my ability but, I cannot promise I will respond on time though. So I apologize in advance for the late response.

BONUS (ALTERNATIVE ANSWER):

The (your hair color) haired girl read it loudly. “Moving onto the second question, the second question is from @inkedeye2345 - I have a question for Y/R/N and Aidan, do you guys romantically like each other, or just in a friendly kind of way? Cause I kinda ship-”

Y/R/N looks at Aidan excitedly, to which the boy nods. “Well, I and Aidan weren't sure when to share this but, we are seeing each other. At the moment, we are still in the courting stage.”

The brunette grabs her hand and begins drawing circles on the back of her hand, “I'll be honest, I didn't think she was old-fashioned.”

His girlfriend puffed out her cheeks at him then blew a raspberry as she averted her gaze, and covered the lower half of her face as she spoke in a muffled tone. “I'm an old-fashioned romantic, you're lucky I didn't force you to sing something cheesy.”

“Why are you covering your face? You know I'd willingly do that.” He laughed.

“CUT THE CAMS BEFORE YOU START FEELING EVEN MORE SINGLE!” Diana screamed from behind the camera.

( Note : This bonus scene isn't real or canon in the behind-the-scenes AU, I just made it for fun so please don't take it seriously. )

➢ Taglist : @igotanidea @incapableofanything @kumioon @buuhsworld @stray-npc @sunsunhe @x0xodnvt @theredvelvetbitch @yoashh @keowthedino @snoopyluver20 @sol3chu @instabull @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @supernova25 @venuseuripedis @cluelessteam @lovely-maryj @cultish-corner @fionaapplelover2010 @inkedeye2345

➢ Note : If your username is highlighted blue that means I cannot tag your blog. I suggest you either follow my blog and turn on your notifications or you turn on your subscription to the masterlist. "Reblog to support your favorite writer" belong to @/benkeibear

[sterekmylove]

Red Fabric {Young Sterek}

Your prompt: Person B lends their sweater to Person A. When Person A is home, they realize they still have Person B's sweater and find Person B's iPod. Out of curiosity, Person A looks through Person B's music and finds a playlist titled with Person A's name.

P: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski

Age: 18 & 19

A/N: I forgot to post it here.

—

“Dude… just take the damn sweater! Stop being stubborn” Stiles groans as he tried to shove his sweater into Derek's hands, the sick omega

Refusing his friend's request. They've been repeating this little argument since Derek first walked into History, taking a seat next to Stiles and dropping his head onto the table ignoring Mr. Harris words to pick up his head, and that it wasn't nap time. Derek hadn't picked up his head, instead, he made a sound that nearly sounded like a growl. The sound even caught Scott's attention, looking away from Allison to look toward the Omega who sat one row ahead. Stiles kept his eyes down on his notations scribbling away— adding in extra for Derek later. He kept his voice low so Mr. Harris didn't try to give him detention for the simple fact that he spoke.

“Are you okay?” the lanky teenager asked in a low voice. Derek had hummed in response. Not good enough.

“Der” Stiles tried again.

Derek let out a raspy breath shifting his head against the desk to peak towards Stiles, the brunette doing the same— side-eyeing the werewolf. The omega looked like hell, his tan skin was paler— Stiles couldn't even blame that on the season— the cool air in the room being a reminder of the freezing cold outside that is known as winter.

“ ‘mm fine” he mumbles in response.

Stiles snorts, keeping his eyes on the paper. Bullshit.

“Something funny Mr. Stilinski?” Mr. Harris questions

Stiles glanced up at the teacher with a pen in his mouth— when did he get it there? Stiles glances around the room to see everyone looking at him— facing his attention back on the teacher.

“Uh—” the pen drops from his mouth, making a sound against the table— he looks down then back up real quick to do a one-over when his brain comes to a halt.

“Um… no?”

“Then why did you snort?”

“Cause I farted— what else?” He asked his expression mocking a duh look mixed with ‘are you stupid?’ Look.

Derek made a low strangled sound. Scott covered his mouth while ducking his head. Stiles twisted in his seat to turn and look at Allison who was sitting with Scott and behind Stiles.

“Forgive me Ms. Argent for passing gas, is that nose okay?” Stiles asks dramatically.

Allison pressed her lips together trying her best to hide her smile as she just nodded at Stiles. Stiles smiles brightly, turning back to the teacher. Mr. Harris stares at Stiles then sighs— deciding not to argue with the lanky boy today.

For once.

Now, back to what’s wrong with the sourwolf.

Stiles found out in second period Art what was wrong with his friend.

“Sick? you’re sick. How the—.”

“Breathe Bambi,” Derek declared as his hand moved in strokes on the canvas.

Stiles takes a second or two to breathe and then speak.

“I thought werewolves couldn't get sick?”

“Bitten one can't, born can. We're still Humans Stiles, just grow extra hair on a full moon” Derek spoke in a low tone.

Was— did he— did Derek unintentionally make a joke to Stiles on the last part? nevermind that he'll go back to that later.

“But how— dude are you—”

“Stiles what are you—” The back of Stiles's hand touches the omega's cheek, Derek's droopy eyes widening a bit at the contact of Stiles's cool skin against his face. Before the sick wolf can even consider leaning into the touch of Stiles' warmth— which he will blame on his sickness— Stiles pulls away.

“Dude— you're cold, you, Derek Hale who is usually built like a real-life heater are cold!” Stiles stresses out, Derek didn't need to look at the lanky teen to see what type of face he was making.

“Take my—”

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

“Derek—”

“Stiles.”

“My sweater is better!”

“No, I'm already wearing my leather jacket” Derek declines, pushing down the feeling of accepting the human request— the excuse of Derek wearing his close friend's sweater and smelling his scent for the rest of the day was tempting– but he wasn't going to. He was sick, those little ticks were all a part of his cold.

The want to lean into the cool touch, the want to accept the sweater, the want to be even closer to Stiles and bury his face deep into his friend's neck and take in his scent till his mind is dizzy with the smell of Stiles.

Roasted hazelnuts with the lingering smell of black coffee and medication—Adderall.

“And clearly it's not keeping you warm enough if you caught a cold Derek”

—

Which leads to now— they were in third-period gym playing dodgeball, Derek weak on his feet— stubborn and very human Stiles still arguing with the Hale boy over his sweater as balls were being thrown at them.

“Come on—“

“Duck!”

Stiles dodges barely fast enough from the flying ball that hit the wall hard, Derek glares at the culprit that threw the ball— Tyler Johnson.

“Johnson!” He barks picking up one of the red balls that landed by his feet throwing it towards the brunette hitting him in the stomach making the other teen wheeze sinking to his feet, Stiles winches at the site.

“Derek—.” Derek grabs Stiles by the front of his shirt yanking him towards himself— making the lanky human not get hit by a ball.

“Stiles focus—.”

“Take my sweater and I will!”

“Stiles it’s cold outside-.”

“I’ll wear your leather jacket— just take the damn sweater you stubborn—.”

Bonk!

A ball gently hits Stiles in the head, the pale teen blinks a couple of times. Staring— staring at Derek who had pulled him close to him with a ball in his hand and with enough force hit him in the forehead with it. Stiles looked at the omega as if he committed a crime, his mouth opening and closing— Derek catching a ball before it hit him in the face.

“Did you—“

Derek gives him the famous Hale smirk.

“Got to sit down Stilinski”

Stiles gasp, then looked over to Scott who just shrugged his shoulders.

“You little…”

“Go.”

Was that even allowed!?.

—

“I look stupid” Derek mumbled as he tugged at the red fabric that hugged his body, Stiles' sweater was loose but also fitted tight around the werewolf’s sick frame. He wore the cuffs of the sleeves over his palms looking down as the two walked down the hall— Stiles fixing Derek’s leather jacket around his body, patting the pockets filling his curiosity that can sometimes be dangerous.

“You look nice in red sourwolf I don’t see the reason to complain” Stiles says in a tone that can let anyone know he’s not paying attention to his words.

“That’s not— not that pocket Stiles”

Stiles stops his hand barely above the chest pocket looking at Derek while they walked down the hallway as the last bell rang.

“What’s in it?”

“Just don’t touch it”

Stiles nods moving his hand away shoving them in the pockets walking in silence.

—

Tags: @cowandcalf

[x-manson-annotated]

X-Manson Annotated Chapter 5 - Part Seven: "CLOWNSHOES"

How do you publicly execute a man who cannot be killed?

*As far as I can tell, I think Angela Baez might be a mix of Angela Davis and Joan Baez. Who are known for their anti-death penalty activism.

**FART-P isn't a real act. Any search for it will result in the Patriot Act.

*** They don't have to reveal any charges that reveal informers or compromise national security...So, what weird dirt did the cult have on the government? SHIELD stuff?

*also not a real law as far as I can tell.

**No kidding.

*I don't think Scott was ever psychically controlled. I think from everything that we've seen his brain and body were bent to the will of the cult the old-fashioned way, by completely depriving him of anything outside of it and actively punishing him for seeking it out.

*could someone from the cult have found her and messed with her head to make her go crazy?

**Or so you thought? What made you think it?

**She wasn't pursued at all. These mental breakdowns were normal ones from the stress of the situation.

*Scott killed Sean?

**Also, she wasn't fucking joking about it being a lynch law, jesus christ.

*i don't know why that is the description Benway chose to use here. This is meant to be Kitty's semi-internal monologue and it's supposed to reflect some of her thoughts on things, so why is she thinking of George Washington Gein is an Irishman's impression of a Texan?

*George Washington Gein is nobody, i think his name is a reference to Ed Gein.

*They paid to watch a public execution. Like when people used to pay to watch someone getting fucking hanged.

**The bold blue text indicates their method of executing logan. This is why I've entitled this post "CLOWNSHOES".

*Circus Music Plays*

*CIRCUS MUSIC GETS LOUDER!*

So, to recap:

Scott gets shot. That's done.

Then they try to shoot logan with hollow point bullets while he's attached to an adamantium frame that's held up in the air by a crane.

They try again, bullet bounces off and hits a civilian.

I forgot to highlight it, but then they decided to drop the frame logan is in several times in the parking lot of the courthouse.

Drove a truck over logan.

People are screaming and puking looking at his torn up, but not dead body.

a doctor tries to test and see if he's dead and gets hurt

to "finish it quickly" they decide to roll him over with a steam roller.

God. Fucking damn.

It probably would have just been easier to throw his ass in a cell forever than to do all this shit. Everyone seems incompetent from the neck up.

Also, how did they get their hands on an Adamantium Frame and why use it for this? Just because Logan can't cut his way out of it?

[dontlookheswatching]

I wanna randomly ramble about my main au regarding ships real quick.

TRIGGER WARNING, PLEASE NOTE THAT I MENTION THINGS LIKE ABUSE, RAPE, ALCOHOL AND DRUG ABUSE!! Please don't read if these things upset you! I want everyone to be safe, so if any of this is triggering, this is to tell you to scroll by!

I'm a multishipper, I've stated this on my blog before, I ship practically everything if I see it a certain way. But lore wise when it comes to my blog, relationships are specific. I might post a relationship chart one day, but basically, I have main ships, and then I have like a billion little side ships I enjoy but they wont make a big appearance on this blog unless they're random doodles unrelated to the lore, or part of a ramble or reblog. Im gonna list examples of each so people know what to expect in future posts where some of these ships are featured. If you want to unfollow me for some of these, I'm not stopping you, I'd highly encourage doing so if any of these ships make you uncomfortable, because I don't want anyone to stay on my blog if it brings discomfort.

Several main ships I have that'll be featured perhaps the most are ones like Jeff x Ben, which if not already obvious is the main relationship that'll be focused on. Another is Tim x Toby, they're both adults in my au, I do not support pedophilia whatsoever and if need be I have aged up characters to avoid this. Lastly, I have Liu x Eyeless Jack. I honestly dont know why I started shipping it but its really cute to me and it stuck and they're very dear to me. These three are perhaps the ships that'll be featured the most, but I'm having a brain fart like always and I'm already forgetting my own ships-😭

These are ships that'll be in the blog as well but they aren't as big and focused on. A example to start off with is Jane x Clockwork. I know, canonly, Jane is married to Mary, and I love that, but this is my own personal au so things are different, although in my heart Jane and Mary are definitely on top, and I might do doodles of them from time to time. Another example is Nina x everyone. No, not literally. She just has crushes that come and go ALL the time, and she flirts with everyone, so often to where no one questions it anymore. She had a Jeff arc and got over him and now she's living her life how SHE wants to. A few more include Nurse Ann x Judge Angels, Hobo Heart x Cody/X-Virus, Lost Silver x Glitchy Red, Jason the Toymaker x The Puppeteer, and Kate x Rogue. I have many more, but for now, I'm gonna explain the ones already listed since a few might seem really random. For Angels and Ann, Im just gonna admit, I'm a sucker for enemies to lovers or people who act like they hate each other but they secretly love each other deep down. For Hobo and Cody, in my au, they're both huge loners, and we're paired in a mission once. It was very awkward but the more they talked the more they realized they had a lot in common. I love them. Theres more lore to the reason I've paired Silver and Red together, but to sum it up, Silver had a massive crush on Ben, but Ben has his eyes set on Jeff and didn't return the feelings, and I didn't want Silver to be sad and alone his whole life, plus, they're dynamic is adorable. Sad pessimistic person x person who has seen whats under the sadness and admires them anyways. For Jason and Puppeteer, i saw a cosplay with them on tiktok and I couldn't help myself, I caved immediately. And lastly for Kate and Rogue I realized their characters have several things in common and I realized they'd probably get along pretty well.

Now, for side ships, I won't give an explanation, this ramble is already longer than planned. Im just gonna throw them out there with no context. EJ x Ben, Ben x Lost Silver, Nina x Kate, Tim x Brian, Tim x Jay, Jay x Alex(Yes some other marble hornet characters may be featured in the blog or in doodles), Jessica x Amy, Toby x EJ, Liu x Ben, and many MANY more, too many to state here.

Now that its out there, I wanna real quick talk about something I've reblogged a few days ago. Just because they're bad people who have done bad things, it doesn't mean they dont deserve love or happiness. Plus, the majority of these creeps were people who were wronged time and time again until they were pushed over the edge, it probably definitely wasn't something they had planned out since they were like 3. Now, despite this, some of them definitely aren't the best lovers to have, like Jeff, because again, these are murders and deranged killers. This is a super dark confession but theres A LOT of lore between Ben and Jeff in my au where things were AWFUL for them because Jeff couldn't get a grip on himself for the longest time. He's not like that anymore, and things are MUCH better for the both of them, but they definitely had an era in their relationship where things were beyond toxic. Beyond toxic as in Jeff was incredibly abusive, physically and mentally, and had a MAJOR alcohol addiction, and even proceeded to get Ben addicted to drugs at some point, sometimes going as far as raping him when he did not give consent. I won't give away too many details, but I will say, again, this is in the past and they've both healed over their traumas and managed to get through it together, and are in a much better state(A lot of breaking up and getting back together happened throughout this 'toxic era' though, and even after healing, theres still minor problems that I will not elaborate, they will be found out throughout the blog and maybe hints in some doodles.) But this is a good example of what a realistic relationship in this fandom with Jeff might look like. But just because people are deranged and definitely not mentally stable, it doesn't mean they can't try to change, and it definitely doesn't mean they dont deserve love unless they're as bad as Jeff was but with no intentions to change.

Im always happy to further explain any of this, but I will not tolerate harassment for the things I like. But anyways yeah thats my whole thing on ships im gonna go cry over my broken apple pencil now

-Max❤

[kanmom51]

JK Seven MV making sketch BTB

Yay, the subs are back on. And I got to watch it and even understand what he was saying, lol.

Loved it.

I was just sitting here for the 12 minutes with a huge smile on my face.

Because JK is just so adorable. So genuine. So real.

He had the time of his life, and seeing that just made me happy.

Now let's talk about a few thing I took from the BTB, why don't we?

I think I'll start from the fun and make my way to the more serious.

Not too much went on really. It's mostly him enjoying himself.

Being his own chaotic loveable self.

Trying to keep his eye open with the water pouring down on him, lol.

Can you imagine just how much fun this all was for him, our daredevil?

Funny, just thought about it, but they didn't even talk to Hun Sohee. Not a word. She might as well not have been there. Now I understand that JK is the focus, it's his song, BTBs are about the members, but at the same time, she's a well known and loved Korean actress acting in his MV and not only don't we get to hear from her even once, we also don't really get to see interactions between him and her in the BTB. In a way it feels like they are trying to keep this distance - this is JK, he's singing Seven, he's shooting a MV, but he's disconnected from it. I'm not sure I'm being clear enough here.

Ok, so for example JK explains what the scenes are and says the word girlfriend, god forbid. We know y/ns went into a frenzy over this stupidity. JK explaining the concept of the scene in which he's fighting with his gf, cause that's what the MV is about, and she's his gf in the bloody MV.

But maybe, knowing this fandom, they wanted to keep the delusion to a minimum, not to mention keep Sohee away from the crazy ass fans that are already harassing her by just keeping her off camera as much as possible. Idk, just found it interesting.

JK tells us a little about his acting, lol.

To all those that are still riding the scripted fanservice bandwagon, time to fucking get off it.

Omg, the way he disses Yoongi, he just LOVES to do that with Yoongi. Now I can kind of understand the "even at 60 years old jeon jungkook will be freaking annoying".🤣🤣

JK is wearing THE brand again. I'm telling you folks, JM made a huge online order for the two of them!!

He's just so precious, with this thing he has of checking out his hands, every single time it feels like it's the first time he's seen them, lol. The fascination he had from his water wrinkled fingers. So endearing.

Looks at them in amazement, shows everyone, then back to looking at them again all fascinated.

You'd think the man has never in his lifetime taken a long shower or had a bath or been in the damn swimming pool. Nah, lol. It's just one of those cute loveable oddities of his.

Did we notice the ASSets?

And I thought JM was in charge of that body part in the family.

Well, apparently the competition is on.

Has JK surpASSed JM?

Should we progrASS? Oopsy...progress?

And now I will take a moment to breathe.

I went looking for more pics from the BTB and came across this:

I don't know enough about the movie but do we know of any kind of connection to Jikook? Or this could be the directors tribute to the movie too. In any case it's a fun tribute.

Now for the heavy stuff, or not so heavy just a little more on the serious side.

I wrote a long ass brain fart of a post yesterday. And some of it is very relevant here too.

JK clearly sees the song as a love song. Period.

He did the explicit version for the fun of it (well and also probably because the America market loves a song with profanities in it). But for him it's the fun of not being restricted by the Kpop rules of engagement, the "don't swear because the song will be censored" and "don't swear because it's too adult" or whatever other reasons for it. He's having fun feeling more freedom, and that he's all grown up and can say fucking multiple times out loud.

But when it comes down to it, when asked about it directly, his answer was that he prefers the clean version. Because to him Seven is a love song, not one about the physical act alone. Yes, of course sex is part of it (the song lyrics are kind of loud), but sex is not even half of what loving someone is all about.

We saw JK talking about the love of his life while explaining about the song.

Him in the BTB about the death scene:

And at the end of the BTB explaining more:

And we also have what he said in the interview aired earlier today on Z100 radio.

The more we get of JK talking about the song the clearer and louder it becomes. I just wish people would only be listening to him.

Anyway, the man is beautiful.

Love him.

Not as much as the love of his life does though.

No competition there!!