#also I need to keep repeating this to myself and still don’t quite believe it

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

Having anxiety and your period at the same time makes for a wild time of the month.

[lane-ys-world]

I Stand, You Stand, We All Stand for My Stand In

Second chances are what you make of them. And sometimes what you make of them is the exact same mistake that caused you to need a second chance in the first place. We are, all of us, blessed with a certain amount of self-preservation, usually enough to ensure we don’t accidentally walk head long into a wall, but some people are not quite as blessed as the rest of us and so they do things that would make you question rationality because, you see, common sense isn’t all that common.

Being in love is usually deemed a cornerstone moment in life. A moment where the stars align, and the universe suddenly makes some semblance of sense. But what would happen if you were to fall in love with a part of someone, a feature, and then later realized that the feature you fell for does not belong to the person you thought it did? Well, I’d like to believe that you would be greatly disappointed by that knowledge and the resounding heartache from that revelation, but I don’t think you’d be outright crazed… would you?

Well, that isn’t what Ming thought was prudent. Upon finding out that the back he’d been drooling over for years actually belonged to a man who no longer wanted anything to do with him, he lost his right mind… but I’m getting ahead of myself. This story isn’t entirely about Ming, it’s mostly about Joe.

Joe has the worst case of bad luck this side of Pluto and it seems he’s okay with letting patterns repeat themselves.

Joe is a ray of sunshine. He is the brightest, sunniest, cutsie-est person in the known universe and he’s got the brains of a golden retriever seeing a new tennis ball. Joe is an orphan. Joe is also a stunt double for a well-known celebrity. The celebrity is a little douche canoe, but I’ll get into that a little later. The celebrity has a soon-to-be brother-in-law named Ming. Ming is secretly in love with said celebrity. The celebrity is pretending not to know about this little crush and starts dating Ming’s sister… DRAAAMAAA!

Ming finds out that Joe is the celebrity’s stunt double after accidentally hugging this man in a dressing room because he confused him with his crush. Joe has a raging crush on Ming and is not afraid to show it. Ming and Joe start hanging out, Joe sneezes a lot when they hang out (hahaha, iykyk), and – as expected – Joe develops feelings for Ming and, though Ming feels the same, he refuses to admit it and instead decides it would make more sense to push Joe away.

While all of this is happening, Mr. Celebrity is feeling high and mighty now that he is about to marry into a stupid rich family and decides to start treating the director of the new movie he’s supposed to be in like garbage. So, the director, having had it with that idiot, decides to promote Joe to the lead of the movie and toss the celebrity to the side.

Tong, the celebrity, is not pleased with this development and decides to sabotage Joe via Ming. See, by the time this all goes down Joe has established that Ming is using him as a replacement, a place holder, for his true love – or who he thinks he’s in love with – Tong. Joe makes it clear he wants no part in being Tong’s ‘stand in’ both on and off the big screen. Ming, who clearly has never been taught boundaries in life, does not do well with being rejected and decides it would be best if Joe never debuts on the big screen and, in doing so, helps Tong secure his position in the movie he’d been flip-flopping all over not three minutes earlier.

How does Ming accomplish this? Well, by kidnapping Joe, of course. He keeps Joe locked up during the most important moment of his career and because of this Joe loses his position in the movie, as well as the trust of the industry. He’s blackballed by the time he can even get word out that he’s still alive because everyone thinks he just bailed. Once it is made clear that Joe no longer has a place in the industry in above board roles, he finds a job in a not so legal production where he ends up flying over the edge of a cliff and meeting a swift end…

Except that’s not the end! Joe wakes up a couple of years later in the body of another person named Joe – what are the odds? – and this guy is also in the entertainment industry though in much smaller productions. No, seriously, what are the actual odds!?

Joe 1 now has to navigate the life of Joe 2 with the memories and emotions of his old body but the face and family of this new body. You’d think with this second chance Joe would find himself a nice, quiet office job, get working and keep his head down but instead – right there in the hospital – Joe reconnects with someone from his first life who draws him back into the industry.

Now, because Joe was in a coma for as long as he was, his new/old mom racked up debt and, in order to keep her safe and make the debt go away, he starts agreeing to do things that put him squarely back where he was to begin with… in the celebrity’s shadow and in Ming’s crosshairs. This time around, however, he has the foresight to not let himself fall head-over-heels for someone who he believes is clearly not in love with him and so he is cold and distant, even as he begins playing the role of Ming’s mistress. Ming, on the other hand, fully believes new Joe is old Joe with a new face, and even though that’s true, how could anyone admit to that? How would you even go about explaining that in a rational, believable way?

Now, even though Ming fully believed that the new guy was his old love, he couldn’t prove it, and he also didn’t really want to believe it because that would mean admitting that Joe died, in large part, due to what he and Tong did to his career. Ming wanted to be able to look Joe in the face, his old face – that is, and tell him how sorry he was that he did that to him. He wanted Joe to see the torment that he’d been going through and in that vein, Ming did something he swore up and down that he would never even consider doing. He jumped into the entertainment industry with the hopes that Joe would see his face on the big screen, or the dozen and one billboards he was on and think “Now might be a great time to reconnect with that guy who used and abused me again, just to see if we can start something new from the ashes of my destroyed life,” I suppose. But fate dealt the both of them a different hand and with that came a new set of rules to this game called life.

There was only one person who knew for certain, from jump, that Joe was Joe and that person technically had nothing to do with Joe. I’m going to refer to him as the Mountain Spirit Man because there is truly no other reasonable way to describe this person. He is a shaman, who lives out in the woods or up a mountain, or something.

Either way, he has a foot in both in the world of the living and the world of the dead, so he likely knew about this wandering spirit but I doubt it would have raised any flags for him if Ming had not – "coincidentally" – found him and started hounding him about Joe’s whereabouts because his body had still not been found after he went flying over a ledge from a motorbike stunt he’d been attempting for that shady-as-all-hell company.

Anyway, the Mountain Spirit Man is the one that tells Ming that Joe is here but also not here, which is why Ming started suspecting new Joe of being old Joe, and I can't imagine the name helped either.

Joe, actively, tries to convince everyone in his life that he’s a hapless little stand-in but soon the cracks start forming and his former self starts shining through.

First, with his stunt work, then with this association to Ming – because that was always going to cause a stir – and finally with him visiting the graves of his former parents. That last one is when he gets caught by his friends and has to explain, in full, how in the hell all this happened… like he would even have a clue how to explain his soul jumping into the body of a dude who unalived himself and left his body up for grabs.

At this point, everyone and their mothers – everyone who is important anyway – know that Joe is Joe and are acting accordingly. And by accordingly, I mean Ming is his love-bombing, sugar coating self, Joe’s one friend is still pining after him and the other friend is warning him away from Ming’s family for fear that what happened before would happen again and Tong is spitting with rage at the fact that Ming is no longer worshipping at his alter.

The 'holier than thou' prick that he is, Tong decides to take it out on Joe… for no freaking reason other than that he is the closest person to Ming at the moment.

So, now we’ve circled around to Tong. Tong has always been aware of his effect on Ming but he liked that he could string him along more than anything else. Everything that he said had been met with an enthusiastic “Yes, P’Tong!” from his dutiful fan.

From requests for money to asking Ming to kidnap a stunt double so his career would be preserved, but nothing was lower than when Tong tried to use his unborn child as a bargaining chip with his in-laws after he royally screwed up and had some very bad people coming for his head.

Tong had been making bad deals, with money he didn’t have, for projects that never quite materialized. Because of this, he was in constant need of large amounts of cash. Now that Ming was no longer chasing after him, and his now wife wasn’t given free reign of the greater family finances, he went the loan shark route to getting his borrowed riches and used his career as leverage.

When even that wasn’t panning out the way it should have been, the loan sharks got fed up with playing nice and they told Tong they wanted their money – with interest – or his head on a pike. Tong tried getting Ming on his side, Ming said: “I warned you, you’re on your own!” So, Tong goes to Joe, hoping he can convince Ming to ‘see reason’ and they end up being ambushed by the loan shark’s lackies who end up taking Joe in place of Tong because they just look so damned similar from the back.

Anyway, they go into hostage negotiations and things do not turn out the way they were supposed to and then Joe ends up being shot which lands him back in the ‘in between’. The places between life and death. Here, he is given the option to pass on, to go into the light and hopefully be reborn far, FAR away from all these people and the dangers they represent but Joe hears Ming pleading with him and regardless of anything else going on in life – or death, apparently – Joe would do just about anything to be with Ming. So, he jumps back into his body, and they live happily ever after…

I hated it! I hated this ending!

There are almost no consequences other than the loan sharks being taken to jail.

Tong’s money problems are solved by Ming’s dad – who turned out to only really hate Ming and Joe’s relationship because of how broken Ming was the first time Joe disappeared. Ming’s sister forgives Tong even after that man threw divorce in her face and then used their unborn child as a bargaining chip to try and extort money out of Ming. Joe forgives Tong for constantly treating him like trash and then putting his life in danger AGAIN. Joe had already forgiven Ming by the time he gets kidnapped, so there’s also that. The only thing missing here was glitter and a bright pink bow! How was everything just so perfectly tied off?

Anyway, I suppose that’s what second chances signify, right? The opportunity to be forgiven with the understanding that things will change for the better. And hopefully, they'll stay that way.

[anachronistic-falsehood]

Ok before I answer any more asks, I feel like I need to get my full thoughts out there. This might be a bit long, but I have a lot to say.

First off: I am very impressionable. I always have been and I always will be. I am well aware of this. When people tell me things, I often believe them at face value. I’m trying to get better at that, which is why I tried to stay neutral this time around when everything first came out. Then I removed myself from the situation for a couple days, came back to it today, forgot to beat my hyper empathy into submission for ten minutes, and found myself almost believing him one hundred percent. I almost forgot about his first response, where he lashed out and threatened to sue people over this. I also tend not to focus on situations like this often because it’s really bad for my POCD. I am bad at this. I need to preface this post by saying that.

I don’t support Forever anymore. I can’t, not after everything that’s happened over the past few days, especially after seeing his original reaction, which was to get mad and threaten to sue and to brush it all off as just twitter drama. And he still brushed it all off as twitter drama in this most recent stream. He didn’t even acknowledge how old the alleged victim was, which means a lot of people who only knew of this through his streams don’t know that he flirted with multiple girls as young as 13. He said it was just jokes, but he did privately message at least one of these girls and meet her in real life, even if it was within a group of people. Things can happen even within a crowd.

There had to have been more things that happened behind the scenes for all of his friends to suddenly drop him. Whether it was some kind of proof that he was aware this was wrong as he did it, or if he lashed out at the other ccs for initially unfollowing him when this all came out, I don’t know. But he handled this very immaturely in his first response without even looking into the issue, and I don’t feel right supporting him anymore.

Still, and hate me for this if you want, I can’t help but sympathize with him a little bit. I know, I know, but I was a shitty person when I was a teenager, and I’m constantly paranoid that things I’ve done or said will stick with me forever or come back around to bite me in the ass. Hell, I have done and said things when I was 17 that would get me dogpiled on twitter if I was a cc. I do understand why he was upset. Knowing that he has mental health issues because of repeated twitter hate mobs does make me feel sorry for him in that regard. Just because being exposed for past actions may have been deserved this time doesn’t mean that excessive hate was deserved every single time, nor is it deserved for every cc who has fucked up in the past.

However, he was very immature with his initial response, and him pushing this off as just a twitter cancellation is enough to tell me that he does not quite see that he was in the wrong. He keeps saying that he’s matured and that he’s better now, as if that alone is supposed to absolve him of any kind of responsibility. I think he handled this wrong, and I don’t want to support him anymore.

As for q!Forever, I know he has a lot of similarities to the cc. That will be too hard to look past for a lot of people, and if you don’t want to engage in content that includes him anymore, that’s well within your rights. I still love q!Forever despite that, and I personally will still consume content that includes him, and I don’t want to write him out of the story of the smp. We can do the same thing we did for c!Dream and basically adopt him as our own oc. q!Forever can be our character now if we want him to be, and we can still acknowledge that Forever put a lot of work and thought into his character and appreciate what he did for the smp while not supporting him as a creator anymore.

And finally, I also don’t like the way that this entire situation was handled in general by the fanbase. The person who did this (as far as I’m aware) was dedicated to going after ccs for generally trivial things. If they wanted justice for this, why not bring it up before now? Why not before he joined the smp? And the victim didn’t want any part in this as far as I know, and yet people went after her demanding comments on the situation. Twitter kept celebrating the ccs dropping Forever like it was some fun party, just like people have been doing for the whole Dream situation. Twitter hasn’t handled this with any sort of tact whatsoever, and many of us here on tumblr (myself included) have been more invested in arguing and over correcting our own actions and phrasing when some biased people bring up invalid points to actually step back and take a break.

We’ve all been on the defence from each other. People on here have criticized each other’s views, invalidated other people’s experiences, and thrown insults and names at each other like this is a playground fight instead of a serious situation. The situation is over. Let’s just breathe.

[starsinkpop]

what do you think if theres blogs that are not only deeply obsessing with finding out ateez members exact fs but they also discussing their potential body parts. I tried telling them how weird and gross it was of them but they tell me I was taking it too far. what the fuck? am sorry but this kpop tarot thing is what is taking ppls obsession with idols fs too far. its bordering on creepy rn and its not just one blog theres like several of them that mainly focus on idols fs.

some blogs be claiming they dont dig too much but then they still think it ok to even discuss idols sexuality or some other aspect of their personal life.

i’m not really on that side of tumblr or social media so i can’t really say much about it. i have clear boundaries. im fine with certain readings about ateez’s fs but i wouldn’t do more readings than i have online right now. we already know more than enough. i keep getting a crazy amount of asks in my inbox of people trying to fit especially san’s fs aspects. i’m deleting all of them because none of those people reading my stuff and also myself will be their fs. some people really need to touch some grass. when i see certain physical traits in a reading i point them out, however i focus on personality only. what’s bothering me is how almost everyone on here in my inbox assumes that the members are straight. making their fs a girl at all times. we don’t know their sexuality and it’s quite frankly none of our business. we don’t know if their straight or part of the lgbtq+ community. this is why i keep my readings gender neutral because we don’t know shit.

now in general i don’t want to spread any negativity because life itself is already a big struggle for most of us. i want my blog to be a place where people could just entertain themselves for a bit and. so i won’t say anything about other readers because i honestly just can’t. like i said, im not on that side of tumblr. i get your point but you have to remember you’re telling me this, im a kpop (well just ateez) tarot reader myself and i’ve done reading about their fs too so 🤷‍♀️🤣 like i said, i have my boundaries with readings, won’t do any sexual readings and i don’t focus on looks. being someone who was crazily sexualized since being a child, i really hate this side of any fandom. there’s too many obsessions going on. you wanna know what happened when i saw the most recent pool pics of the members, especially san and woo? as a gym girly i was like “woah i really need to know their routine so i can shape my body like theirs” i can just admire them. viewers here are a little too delulu and have a hard time sticking to reality and form an own opinion it feels like. and I’m sure some readers feed into that. it’s giving you a ton of likes and if that’s their main purpose for posting i guess i get it. that doesn’t mean i’m okay with that but i know many people need validation like that. whenever there’s people coming up and officially date like twice’s jihyo for example i always feel really warm around my heart. gives me the feeling they can still have a bit of a normal life.

i don’t really have anything else to say and only repeat myself. i don’t know if i’m the right person to talk to about that, i do readings and did fs readings like what you just complaint about, but i have boundaries and know what’s reality. none of us will be with any of them, ever and viewers should stop honestly believing “omg XYs fs is like this and that, i’m just like that it has to be me they have to do more detailed readings so i can make it fit for myself”.

on another note, and this is in no means anything bad or hate whatsoever, i love getting asks from you but those long asks are sometimes a bit much because im not your diary, love 🤣 no hate. but it just felt like a rant and i do really like rants but my inbox is maybe not the best place for that because i don’t want to spam any of my followers page with that you know?

edit: you can still send me longer asks, but please try fitting the stuff you want to say into one ask and not three or more 💖

[drabblesandimagines]

*looks both ways, hands you a $20* If you’re comfortable with it, poly Kazuki, Rei, and reader taking Miri to daycare and the daycare moms are going feral in the background or a date or anything with those wholesome train-wreaks somehow making things work. Thank you ♥️♥️

Thanks for the request, anon! I'm mainly a fluffy-type writer but I wanted to challenge myself and give this a go, albeit a few tweaks.

Please let me know what you think (anon or not!) <3 Buddy Daddies Pairings: Rei x Kazuki x you (polyamorous) Warnings: Nothing graphic, but implied. One swear word. Drabble under the cut if this isn't your sort of thing!

Aozora Daycare Moms (Non-Kazuki chat)

Sakura: Devastating news, ladies. Papa Kazuki looks to be off the market. Spotted looking very cosy earlier…

A photo of you and Kazuki is attached – the blonde man staring deep into your eyes, leaning across the table, a flirtatious smile on his face as the two of you enjoyed a mid-morning coffee. Your knees are brushing up against one another.

Yui: That doesn't mean anything, Sakura. They could just be friends catching up. I can’t believe you took photos!

Sakura sends a gif - a repeating video loop of you wiping the milk froth off of Kazuki’s top lip before he takes your fingers in his mouth and sucks, eyebrows raised seductively.

Aiko: Gosh, poor Papa Rei!

Mai: Poor Papa Rei? Poor me!

Masako: Sakura, did you really make a gif?!

Sakura: No, I took a video… my phone suggested it made a gif and I clicked okay.

Yui: I still think they could be just friends.

Sakura: Mm, and denial is also a river in Egypt.

Yui: ???

--

Mai: Ladies, HUGE developments. Huge.

Sakura: What?

A photo pops up, Rei and you, hand in hand, entering a video games store. Mai has drawn a big red circle around your intertwined hands in case it’s not obviously clear.

Sakura: Mai, that’s an awful picture. We need one from the front.

Mai: I’m working on it, jeez.

Ten minutes later…

Mai: You WON’t believe this.

Another photo, front on, of you and Rei, his arm now around your waist, keeping you snug to him as you walk down the aisle, browsing the shelves.

Masako: No, it can’t be.

Mai: It is.

Masako: No way.

Yui: Can’t be who?

Mai sends the photos of you and Kazuki and Rei and you, side by side.

Yui: Oh.

Yui: No, I still don’t understand.

Sakura: She’s dating the two of them?!  

Mai: YES.

Yui: Maybe they're just friends.

Aiko: Do you think this is why Rei looks so tired - the guilt?

Sakura: No, Rei’s so quiet and sweet. I can’t see him doing something like that to Kazuki, or Kazuki doing something like that to him! She's obviously two-timing them both and they have no idea.

Aiko: Oh, my goodness, you’re right. Poor papas. That’s awful.

--

Sakura: Out in the west side of the town for an errand and who do I see? The harlot and Kazuki! Rei did the drop-off this morning and seemed perky. I can’t stand it. I’m going to confront her.

Aiko: Sakura, don’t.

Mai: Sakura, YES.

Masako: Please.

--

“Kazuki, stop!” You giggle as the blonde man kisses your neck again. He’s been terrible all morning and you’re not quite sure what’s got into him. His hand slides up your thigh, dangerously close to going underneath your pleated skirt and you playfully slap it away. “I thought we were just going to have a nice lunch, what’s the matter with you?”

“It’s this outfit, it’s unfair…” He whines. It is quite the short skirt, but it hadn’t been your choice. You think now it might have even been on purpose, the scoundrel…

“Kazuki, fancy seeing you here!” A cheerful female voice chimes. You don’t recognise her, but Kazuki seems to, greeting her with a smile.

“Oh, Sakura! Yes, we’re just out for some lunch.” He nods to you, introducing you by name. ���She’s my girlfriend. Sakura’s one of the other moms at daycare, baby.” Sakura’s face seems to darken at the nickname.

“Hi!” You smile brightly. Kazuki is a good-looking man – it’s not like you haven’t seen jealous women in the past.

“Mm, hello.” She replies, tersely. “Kazuki, would you mind awfully if we had a word in private?”

“Private? Er…” He looks at you, a puzzled look on his face. “What about?”

“I’m afraid I couldn’t say in present company.” She gives you a sour look. What on earth is this woman’s deal?

“Could we do this some other time, Sakura? I don’t mean to be rude but we don’t get much time alone together, you’ll understand, with kids and all…” He throws an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“Okay… I really didn’t want to do it this way, Kazuki, but I’m afraid she’s cheating on you.” Sakura places her hands on her hips, giving you a withering stare.

“Excuse me?!” You stand up from your seat but Kazuki pulls you back down to your seat immediately, preventing a cat fight. He knows your temper.

“You heard me, you harlot. It’s even worse, not only is she cheating, but she’s two-timing with Rei!"

Kazuki stares for a second before he erupts into laughter and you let out an exhale. Sakura looks back and forth between the two of you, in disbelief.

“I know that seems unlikely, but I’ve seen photos. I couldn’t stand to let this concubine hurt the two of you…” Her hand is rooting around in her purse now.

“What’s so funny?” Rei asks in his usual monotone voice, carrying a tray with a variety of drinks on top of it. Kazuki is laughing so hard he’s in tears. Rei places the tray down on the table and gives Sakura a hard stare.

Sakura is speechless now, trying to work out what on earth was going on. Was Aiko right and, actually, Rei and you were having an affair behind Kazuki’s back? Well, she couldn’t stand for that either. She locates her phone in her purse at last and scrolls through, finding the photographs of Rei and you in the video games store, looking particularly cosy. She hands it to Kazuki, who wipes a tear from his eye and looks.

“Oh.” His face settles back to a neutral position.

“Yes, oh.” Sakura chimes back.

Rei’s peering over Kazuki’s shoulder at the photo – his expression unreadable. He shrugs, before taking the seat the other side of you.

“Well, don’t you have anything to say for yourselves?” Sakura lectures down at you and Rei. Rei smirks, leans forward and makes eye contact with Kazuki, who gives him a sly grin. Rei’s hand slides around the back of your neck and jerks, turning you towards him before he forces his tongue into your mouth - not that you give much resistance - kissing you passionately, nibbling at your lip as if he was starved – his hand sliding up and under the skirt he’d bought for you at the same time.

He pulls away, leaving you breathless a moment and smiles up at Sakura who is standing there, shell-shocked. The audacity of the two of you, doing this in front of Kazuki! Poor, sweet Kazuki who looks... pleased? Kazuki then turns in his seat towards you, catching your chin in his hand and pulls you into his own kiss. He’s more gentle than Rei, his other hand caressing your head, running his fingers through your hair, softly kissing you over and over, before he pulls away.

“What on earth…?” Sakura forces out, looking in disbelief between the three of you.

“Sorry, I should’ve made it clear from the start, she’s our girlfriend.” Kazuki wraps an arm around your shoulders, and Rei’s hand rests back on your thigh. You’re flushed, trying to catch your breath. They’ve never done this in public before – not that you’re embarrassed. You mean, fuck, you love it when they tussle over you at home, but it just was so unexpected.

“I… I… I’m so sorry, Kazuki, Rei. I didn’t mean to…”

“I hope this won’t be an issue, Sakura. I really hope we can all still be friends.” The blonde states.

“Y-yes, of course,” she bows her head. “Forgive me for interrupting your…date. I’ll see you all at pick-up time - maybe.”

She backs away, her body shaking, before she high tails it out of there.

“That poor woman. You guys are jerks.” You giggle.

“We’re your jerks, though,” Rei whispers in your ear and you shudder.

“Hmm. I think I’m thirsty for something else now, actually. How about you, Rei?” Kazuki grins, getting to his feet and stretching.

“I wouldn’t argue. Come on, sweetheart.”

You had quite the afternoon.

--

Masako: Sakura, what happened?! Did you confront them?

Aiko: Sakura, you can’t leave us hanging like this. I’m going to bring cookies to pick-up though in case they need consoling, poor things.

Sakura: I did it.

Masako: And?!

Sakura: They knew. They both knew.

Aiko: What, they knew she was dating both of them…?

Sakura: They’re all together. They’re polyamorous. I made such a fool of myself. Gosh. Mai: NO.

Yui: Polyamorous?

Aiko: Google it, Yui.

Yui: Oh!

Yui: ..do you think they’re looking for a fourth?

--

Check out my masterlist.

[therealslimshakespeare]

What got you into writing/how long have you been writing?

What’s your writing inspiration?

Do you write in silence or need background sounds? Like music?

Do you struggle more with dialogue or detail?

Any tips for someone who wants to write fanfiction?

How do you differ all your OC’s so you don’t rewrite the same characters over and over?

Do you do research?

— from someone who would love to write their own stories lol but yours are great!

My darling. So many apologies for how tardy I’ve been in replying to this, I really wanted to give it due thought because I’m quite touched you’d even ask.

1: I’ve been writing since I was little, my mama was always reading me classics and my greatest ambition was to be some kind of author every bit as colorful as their characters, a la Oscar Wilde. 🥳

2. Writing inspiration? Oh that’s a hard one only in that I could cite a million things and chat your poor ear off, but to be boring and also frank -I just love stories. I think they’re so inspiring and healing and necessary for making sense of things, or else resigning to things that can’t be explained. I love to study love and how very human and fallible and also indestructible it is in its many forms. I love to dig through tragedy and find the refining purpose of it, I love to take characters through hells I’ve been through so that I can imagine their triumphs, too, and my own through them. If this can happen to -name your hero- then I’m no smaller for it happening to me, if -name your hero- can get through it and be loved and admired by a whole fandom? -I deserve the same commendation from myself at the very least. Stories are essential and fun and I never ever imagined I’d have a little group one day liking my own where we could all scream about these things together. I’m legit so humbled each time I log on here and find y’all ready and waiting and interactive. The community of it, that’s the biggest drive right now, tbh. What a sweet season.

3. I usually write in silence, or else at any chance where I have a moment, so that could be public transport or lunch breaks or in the loo during family holidays, ha. However I do find music to be an inspiring mood setter for writing later that day. Especially as i juggle many ongoing projects at once, the genre im listening to before may very well influence what gets worked on.

4. Detail!! Dialogue can be challenging but I hear it so clearly in my head most of the time that it’s not hard. Details can devastate me.

5. Ooof, I still feel like I’m a baby at it, this is only my second fandom to dare for. I’d say for sure write what you find inspiring instead of what appears to be wanted, i firmly believe that’s the only sure way to keep up any inspiration and the niche will draw its own crowd, one’s who will like it all the better for its specially crafted world. Also, for dialogue -replay and replay dialogue from the character before you write. Are they terse or do they ramble? Are they sarcastic or earnest? Do they have a word they repeat often? -I noticed the other day how Rosenthal uses “you know?” often in the show. Also, sometimes switch up sentence structure from character to character, it helps feel like hopping brains without a fully jarring POV change. All these are things I’m currently working at myself, but that’s the best I’ve got for advice.

6. Oh boy I’m still figuring this out myself. Three things come to mind as little helps I use- first off, read real biographies, it helps tremendously with crafting fully dimensional fictional people. Two -have a maturing arc for your OC during the story, separate from whatever adventure or romance that occurs, this will make it feel less like a inserted person into the broader story. Three, choose a personality type or something similar to both keep them separate from the next but also to ensure their virtues have corresponding vices.

7. I do research a lot. But I find that it’s a fine line for myself of when that drains all creativity or bravery. Im massively indebted to so many mutuals who generously share their own with me.

[hugsnkisses-xxx]

Hi everyone!

This is my very first post on Tumblr, I have zero experience with tumblr, and though I've been lurking for a week or two now, I'm still trying to figure it all out. I came here as a Quotev refugee and I plan to stick around. I'm not entirely new to blogging, as I do also have a Dreamwidth (which I mostly ignore, but still).

Anyway, for those of you who don’t know me, my name is Caoimhe and I am 18 years old (19 on 10th July) and I was born in Belfast (hear the shotgun shell blast), Northern Ireland, where I still live now. I just finished my A-levels (woohoo!) in history, law, and government & politics and I think I did fairly well, especially considering it has been a whirlwind of a year, and I am still not sure how to feel about it all.

I lost my twin sister, Aoife, to cancer last summer and it still feels surreal to even write these words, even though it has been almost a year now. A year without my best friend, a year without my other half. Some days it feels like just yesterday we were laughing and planning our futures together, and other days it feels like a lifetime ago. Man, we used to do everything together. Now there’s just this gaping hole, everything just seems a bit dull, a bit off, and I doubt that will ever wear off. I doubt things will ever go back to normal.

Now that I have finished my exams, that hole just seems to have grown bigger. See, after she passed, it was easy to force myself back to school, to focus on studying, to focus on dealing with my parents and siblings back at home, to figure out what life would be. But now I have nothing to focus on. My mother, who used to need care (she has early-onset Alzheimer's) has been moved to a care home. My nephew who lives with us has cerebral palsy but he has started this new intervention programme and is out of the house for hours on end with his mum/my older sister. I have two younger brothers who are old enough to care for themselves and reject my attention whenever I do try to give it to them, and a father who genuinely wishes I was the one who died instead (so I don't bother with him).

So I have nothing to take my mind off the matter aside from just sitting here, hoping to catch something that holds my interest. I type this all out because it is therapeutic in a way, but also because Aoife used to dream of having a blog, posting about her life, posting about Belfast and the politics that come into it, posting about her great love (cats) and anything else that came onto her path. She asked me to blog with her not long after she started one and we tried to share a blog. It was over on Dreamwidth. I wasn’t that into it at the time and I feel bad about that now, because I think we could have been a great team had I put in the effort. I suppose my continuing to blog is a way to make it up to her. To cope with my own grief, to keep the memory of her alive, and to somehow find a new purpose in life. I think she would have been so proud. She always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself (which was quite often, actually. It still is. She was always the star of the show and whilst I never really resented her for it, I did feel jealous from time to time when it came to the attention she was given compared to the attention I was given).

To anyone reading this who’s also struggling with loss, know that it’s okay to not be okay (and I know that phrase has been repeated so often it has lost its meaning, but know that doesn’t make it any less true). It’s okay to take things one day at a time. It’s okay to lean on friends and family. It’s okay to seek out help when you need it. Grief isn’t something you get over; it’s something you learn to live with, and we all learn at our own pace.

My blog isn’t all depressing posts about how I lost my twin, though. I don’t want it to be. I don’t think Aoife would have wanted that, either. I will also be posting about other things that keep me occupied, such as my job - as you might know, I'm working at a political tourist shop, which basically means I sell over-priced flags and shirts with Bobby Sands' face on them to dumb tourists who have no idea what they're buying but buy it anyway. One of my favourite things to do is talk to tourists about the significance of what they're buying, or especially, the connotations the items or slogans have. Many visitors come with a... vague understanding of our history, at best, and although I am no expert, I like to give them just a little bit of insight. I feel like it is essential to pass on the basics to people who come to visit, if not for them, then for us, so they don't go on to spout nonsense and give others the wrong idea about this wee country. Because Belfast really isn't as bad as the past may have you think. We have our issues, it's true, but what country doesn’t? We're trying our best. It's not as if we are killing each other on the streets (not anymore).

I think my favourite part of the job is getting to meet people from all over the world. Like, just the other day, I had a lovely conversation with a couple from Spain who had stopped by to get some information on the murals they saw outside. They hadn't booked a tour but hoped some of us could give them more information. I told them about the murals, I told them about the Peace Lines, I told them to meet me after my shift and they did, and I showed them the 45-foot high wall on Cupar Way. It's a bit of a tourist attraction yet does still serve a purpose. I live near it. I know the safety it offers. They were really very respectful about it all and it's encounters such as this one that warm me up to tourists as a whole. Of course there’s the rotten apples (I remember a German family git quite pissed about me not giving them a discount for stupid reasons, for example), but you have those in every group of people.

I guess I just like sharing about this wee city I'm from, haha. I'm proud of how far we've come but I also recognise we have a long way to go still. Yeah, what i like about my job is that it’s not just about selling things; it’s about sharing a piece of where I come from and what we’ve been through. It’s a reminder that despite our past, Belfast is a place of resilience and hope.

Now, that was a little heavy, haha. I also enjoy listening to folk music and I love animals of all kinds. Despite all of the above, I'm not a very political person - I'm mostly interested in how the past shapes our future and politics obviously plays a role in this, but in a more broad way. I'm not one to criticise someone for holding different beliefs to myself. I think that's just plain wrong. I like casual conversations and making the most of life. I mean, the biggest, heaviest thing weighing on my mind right now is if I go on to university or if I'll be taking a gap year (or several?) to get some money in, because we're not exactly rich. Maybe I won't even go on to university at all. Who knows. Certainly not me. ;)

That's just a bit what this blog is about, or what it will be about. I hope to see you around sometime!

[chthonicgodling]

Why does Hades loathe Macaria so much? You would think that since Hades and Persephone are the ultimate couple and love each other very much he would love someone that came from that love and would be “the best of both of them? and that she looked like the person he loves most (Persephone) would be an added bonus. Was she even planned? Were they excited to become parents? From what you described of Hades as being a ruthless tyrant king it’s hard to believe he is capable of loving someone. How did he fall in love with Persephone? What attracted each of them to each other ? Or is it much closer to the Greek myth of the abduction of Persephone?

gasps…… okay okay. okay. tearing myself away (BRIEFLY) from clutching eLoki.,,,

..,,to redirect my spotlight to MACI AND FAMILY

seen here awwww cute. several years before disaster(s).

because— I wanna talk about Hades and Maci in depth, have I gotten thoroughly into this before here??? other than my quips and captions??? I dont THINK so, not all in one place?!!! So first, a note -

Elysium!Hades & Seph DO love each other very much; they’re a wonderful couple who are wholly devoted to each other, kind and compassionate to their respective needs, are inseparable (except for when they’re physically separated via ancient accordance rip) and are each other’s best friends!

…they also are terrible parents and should never have had children. JOIN ME ON A WALK THROUGH MACI’S CHILDHOOD, SUPER LONG AND IN DEPTH AND BEHIND THE CUT, a long overdue “reveal” conversation about the slow disintegration of Maci and Hades’ relationship long before the elysiumverse canon events “began” and so a very deep dive into part of Maci’s pre-canon backstory! I actually have a lot of this written out.. somewhere ;) in progress and some of this comes from that wip so!!! One day if you see repeats… shh

This is so, so, so, so long. buckle up

[cw for: every type of abuse basically, wrt of course Thanatos has to be mentioned in here - also a brief mention of Zeus’ assault on Seph when Meli was born. Proceed with general caution this whole thing is overall a tragic and upsetting MESS. ]

the very beginning of Hades and Seph getting together first of all, is pretty much in line with the original myth, though Elysium has always been a story about Maci and so I fully don’t know ~or care anymore~ about all the intricate ins and outs of their details (a lot has been retconned and replaced with…. Blank space lmao ,, It’s not relevant in any way Maci’s parents are such background characters to canon current Elysium soooo-)

here are the details that I know DO exist (and based on my personal staples of Hades/Persephone stories lmao)

….warning this is not a safe space for Demeter apologists

• -Hades and Seph first met each other by happenstance at a gathering on Olympus that Hades was required to attend, the two most sarcastic gods in the crowd of course ended up gravitating towards each other and exchanging some friendly cynical banter before Demeter noticed who her daughter was talking to and dragged her promptly away.

• -Hades was - to his mortification and distress - immediately in love with her. Seph, immediately aware of this and quite tickled by it, was ABSOLUTELY flirting and ABSOLUTELY into him too - but with no real expectation that anything would ever come of it??? Demeter kept her possessively and almost literally under lock and key so let’s be realistic here.

• -upon finding out the scoop about Seph (interrogating Hecate, an old Underworld friend who also had sporadic contact with Demeter enough to gossip💞) Hades was actually quite horrified that Demeter was - like I said - possessively almost literally keeping her under lock and key what the fuck someone should do something about that???? what the fuck????? he—

• …something something something idk whatever BUT the end result of all that outrage + selfish crushy feelings was that he very much DID still kidnap Seph to the Underworld and then just kinda. set her up with a whole room in the palace and gave her awkward space. The kidnapping thing being still canon in here is so crucial to me mainly bc I think it’s the funniest (initially awkwardly platonic) first date in the world

• -Seph was initially PISSED about all that specifically but. got over it fast and fell in love with him lmao something something something etc love story deets whatever whatever. meanwhile Demeter went absolutely ballistic in the mortal world; pomegranate seeds were *DELIBERATELY* ingested; Demeter continued to hold all of earth hostage, Zeus intervened to stop the mass frozen famine but Seph had eaten the food of the dead and couldn’t fully leave so HA — Demeter and Zeus bullied Seph and Hades into signing what the elysiumverse calls The Pomegranate Agreement, dictating Seph’s seasonal location a la mythology, forevermore.

like I said - ultimately - whatever whatever whatever none of that is really important to me anymore and I have no further details to provide. Important result is they’re together happily ever after and here we are. Onto Maci!

One hundred years after Seph and Hades had gotten together, Seph became fixated on the wild and crazy idea of having a baby and approached Hades about it… his response was basically - ugh what, why???

well, because she wanted one, why else? and also INDEED wouldn’t it be so lovely to create something from half of each of them?? wouldn’t it????? please please please please please?????? 🥺🥺🥺 Ultimately, as spring approached, Seph settled with “just take the season to think about it and🥺don’t just say yes because you want me to be happy, I want you to want them too🥺but… please please please🥺”

by the time she returned that autumn, of COURSE Hades said yes and OF COURSE he literally did only say it to appease her. Was Seph aware of this??? Y…yeah probably but mission accomplished it would be fine! HER parent was terrible and HIS parents were terrible so they knew exactly what NOT to do so parenting would be easy, and even with Hades’ clear reluctance “once the baby is here you’ll come around,” she said and. ooooookay fine…. Fineeeeeeee so baby Maci was conceived that very late winter.

(Seph’s pregnancy was mostly spent in the upper world, which was. horrible, and naturally Demeter was BIG MAD and DISGUSTED when she caught on)

Maci, as we know, was born the spitting image of Seph, and all the colors of the Elysian Fields, though with the quirky ability to burst into flame like Tartarus. Hades WAS quite enamored with his daughter when she was tiny. A temporary clause had been added to the Pomegranate Agreement at Hades’ demand, permitting Seph to remain full time in the Underworld with Maci for the first five years of Maci’s life - and then Maci would travel with Seph seasonally ever more.

And those first five years were great! The entire Underworld was obsessed with its first ever heiress and little Princess, and Maci was an absolutely adorable Velcro baby who by the age of five was a hyperactive and bubbly toddler quite accustomed to having everything she ever wanted, and having everyone wrapped around her finger at all time. Including Hades, who - though never AFFECTIONATE or openly emotional it’s just not the way he is - doted upon her in HIS way, showering her with gifts and to the kingdom’s shock PERMITTING her to climb around his throne and follow him all around anywhere he went. as a teeny child he was Maci’s hero 🥺🥺

When Maci was five, Demeter was quick to remind them that the agreement’s clause had ended and so Seph and Maci traveled for the first time together to the upper world, and for the next five years of Maci’s life she was subjected to a MUCH different vibe for half of the year. For six months in the upper world - She was miserable without her dad, missed her home kingdom, and also Demeter and her army of stuck up nymphs were OBNOXIOUS to her, trying constantly to get her to revoke the Underworld and her father lmao aughhhh???

But Maci reacted to this by starting a WAR in return - for six months of the year from ages 5 to 10, Maci, naturally short tempered anyway, smugly picked as many fights as she could, set everything on fire, and generally fought viciously with her obnoxious grandmother both behind Seph’s back and to her face

Meanwhile, the other half of every year was spent back HOME as a happy family, all moods improved with her parents reunited together, in luxury within her familiar palace and kingdom of adoring worshippers. Maci met kiddo!Hypnos & Thanatos when she was 6 and they were 11, and she also spent her time following them dutifully around!

So By the time Maci was 10, Seph petitioned Demeter to allow Maci to choose where SHE would rather spend her time - aaaand by the time Maci was 10, Demeter had utterly given up on ever getting to take her to Olympus and was SO eager to be rid of the little brat. she was beyond relieved when Maci obviously and emphatically decided to stay in the Underworld full time. Her friends were there, her palace was there, and everything was always perfect when she was together with both her parents in the fall-winter, so the choice was obvious.

THIS was the beginning of the end.

Please remember that through Maci’s entire life at this point, she had never gotten to meet the version of Hades that existed when Seph WASN’T there. Hades…. Hm. Okay I was perhaps being harsh when I’d called him a tyrant earlier lmao but.,, you see like.,,

Hades is not… nice. He’s temperamental and quick to anger, where do we think Maci got it from hello. He’s somber and moody and usually scowling-quiet and grim and has no sense of humor and very little patience or tolerance for nonsense. It’s Seph only, somehow, who awakened a lighter side of him, an actual SMILE in him, actual LOVE in him. It’s Seph only that that side comes out around. And with Maci….

Maci by the age of 10 was LOUD and HYPER and NEEDY and BUBBLY and yes just an innocent child who didn’t deserve anything I’m about to write about :( but was tolerable to Hades really with Seph’s consistent laidback patient demeanor there, as she balanced out Maci’s high maintenance hyperactivity. SURE Hades was fond of the parts of Maci that reminded him of his wife but - the older Maci got, the less like Seph she became. Without Seph there as well, Hades would quickly - IMMEDIATELY - realize that he was not only ill equipped to handle Maci, but also utterly uninterested in learning, reverting instead to his standard springtime shutdown.

And so, obliviously, Seph kissed her daughter goodbye for the first spring Maci would spend in the Underworld and then drifted right off, leaving Maci eager and excited to spend six months bonding with her dad but instead!! INSTEAD!! Instead of embracing his daughter to cope with Seph’s absence alongside him together, Hades proceeded to utterly blindside Maci by just….. completely withdrawing. Emotionally - and physically - icing her out entirely.

Like a switch had flipped - Daily, and for six months, TEN YEAR OLD Maci suddenly found herself mostly alone within the halls of their palace, and her rare interactions with her father were newly short and cold.

This was all made worse by the whiplash when Seph came back and everything reverted back to NORMAL!???? Afraid of bursting the bubble that had suddenly returned to her, Maci didn’t say anything at all to her mom about how the year had been and lied that everything had been perfectly fine. Six months later Seph left again and Hades withdrew AGAIN - leaving Maci frustrated once more, but no longer as shell-shocked for round two— she soon became ANGRY.

Reeling from this abandonment oh my god she was just a CHILD Maci turned to her friends for support and….. at this point is when the SECOND circumstance leading to the overall collapse of it all came into play. Because this of course meant that in the absence of Hades’ attention, Maci was turning to her best friend Thanatos for comfort.

this is a story about Maci and Hades so I’m not gonna go too much into the Thanatos specific branches (I can but that’s a story for a different time 🤪). For the sake of this narrative, what is important to remember is that Thanatos had NEVER had her best interests at heart and, by year two, began to *actively* feed into her anxieties and distress about Hades ignoring her. Maci was so angry this time around at her dad that she began to act out around him, and very quickly realized that… oh interesting Hades suddenly noticed her real quick when she was MISBEHAVING. well that changed EVERYTHING. plus —

Thanatos enthusiastically encouraged her to continue picking fights with her father instead of just talking to him. He was trying now deliberately to drive a wedge between them so that he could isolate Maci for his own purposes. Butttt Maci was oblivious to this manipulation and followed his advice and her own instincts.

A good father would have taken this as a wake up call, Maci’s sudden moody rage and attitude and fits of destruction - or at least a good father would have sat her down to talk about what was bothering her, maybe gotten the opportunity to start over with her. But instead, Hades REAL FUCKIN MATURE responded to his preteen daughter goading him on by FALLING FOR THE BAIT and just raging back at her??!?!!?!?

because!!! Hades was temperamental to begin with and was growing more irritated with Maci's behavior... and uh, personality, and presence, day by day. By the time Maci was 11 years old SHE had wholly decided that the best and only way to interact with her father was by provoking him into yelling at her - Thanatos whispering in her ear the whole time that she was right and Hades hated her.

Back then at this point I don’t think Hades HATED her, I think he just…. Had no idea what to do with her!?? Was alarmed and put off by her???? Then made the terrible decision to not get to the bottom of it all, but instead was like “oh the little brat is picking fights WELL I’LL SHOW HER A FIGHT” this is a terrible way to “parent” I literally don’t think Hades ever considered that Maci was a CHILD when reflecting on her behavior

This WENT ON for YEARS and every time Seph came back the two of them - didn’t want to upset her and just, mutually and silently, agreed to pretend like nothing was wrong. though still Maci became a little louder, cockier, meaner, smugly knowing that Hades would never engage while his wife was home. Eventually each springtime as Maci grew into a Troubled Teen, she was making it a point to be as difficult as possible when interacting with her father while Hades just bickered back and things between them got worse and worse.

By the time she was 14, she could barely stand to be in the same room as Hades. the palace shared by just the two of them sat with uncomfortably tense silence, only ever broken by screaming arguments that ended in Hades throwing her out of the palace, or Maci storming out on her own, either way ending up back with Thanatos and Hypnos again. She’d slink back days later even moodier and repeat it all. This had all gotten so fucking bad that by the next year, when she was 15, the tension between them was too much to hide from Seph for the first ever time in the fall.

Seph uhhhhh. uhhhhhhhhhhh. well. F…. felt Maci’s outrageous attitude was blatant even to her, since in Seph’s eyes, Hades could do no wrong, despite clearly being in the wrong. HOWEVER she was still totally horrified to see this shattered relationship out of nowhere (“nowhere”). She pushed Hades to build Maci her Elysium palace (!!) as a peace offering and a 16th birthday present, which he.,, reluctantly did. But then Maci, wThanatos in her ear AGAIN, rejected it obnoxiously and furiously, - this was a last straw for Hades, spurring their worst and biggest fight to date by that point. Seph sOMEHOW MADE THE DECISION TO STAY NEUTRAL BETWEEN THEM - Maci, mentally, began to crack in the worst way. After like seven straight years of this there was something inside her beginning to claw in desperation with a frantic, anxious need to be loved, and seen by someone, anyone, rising in desperation. In the background of all this with Hades, Thanatos had been flaunting an endless string of girlfriends in her face which didn’t help anything either and Maci both felt like she was completely alone and TERRIFIED to BE alone??

all of this was the perfect storm for what happened next - much of this I think might be common knowledge here idk - in which Maci had a manic breakdown at the age of 17 that spurred her to insanely prostitute herself to literally anyone who’d have her in the Underworld, though instead first being swept straight into the arms of Thanatos, where well. I know we all know this part of the story. Now that Thanatos had successfully separated Maci from her family, his pretenses dropped, and the next four ish years or so consisted of their horrible terrible relationship - again the Thanatos branch is a whole different post, so back to Hades.

For four years, Hades did not bother to notice what was happening to Maci. oh she was quieter now and never around? good thank god 😒 Thanatos was not subtle about it - she was BLEEDING half the time for gods’ sake - Hades was so irritated by her presence by this time that he just. Didn’t pay it any mind. By this point Hades had started to actively dislike Maci, finding her obnoxious and abrasive and telling her so with no regards to the fact that he was the one who’d inadvertently shaped her to be this way. Thanatos once again smugly twisted the knife, pointing out to Maci how little Hades cared and how unlikely it was he would ever notice what was happening to her. There was no evidence to support the contrary so like yeah, clearly Hades didn’t give a shit! by this point though Thanatos was pretty spot on :(

in fact NEITHER of Maci’s parents fucking noticed anything was wrong with her personal life oh my god. The gravity of the nightmare Maci was living in sank in whenever she was alone with her thoughts, so she did everything she could to avoid ever being alone and distracted herself by seducing anyone across the Underworld, and soon she was spending all of her time in random beds or with Thanatos and was rarely at her home palace - and who the fuck knows if her parents even noticed that she was a touch more withdrawn, a touch angrier, a touch cagier or whether they had heard the rumors about her activities cause neither of them ever addressed her about it!!

eventually it all came to a head when Thanatos tried to very credibly actually kill Maci, the shock of which jarred her enough to (trigger an entire physical brawl between them, but while that was happening) send Hypnos for help, and with Seph arriving to witness this horrific scene first hand at long last she and Hades found out the crimes that Thanatos had committed against their own daughter.

Thanatos was brought to “court” made up of the King and Queen, Maci to tell her side of the story, Hypnos to tell his, and Nyx herself, Elder Primordial Titan Goddess of the Underworld and Thanatos/Hypnos’ mother. As Maci went through describing the past many years - her own activities through the underworld and her abuse at the hands of thanatos Seph was utterly horrified— and Hades though initially somehow SKEPTICAL, as this conference went on there was absolutely no denying the injuries that they could all see, nor the fact that Seph could vouch for what she had personally seen just that afternoon, and since by this point Thanatos had dropped his demeanor of charm there was quickly no denying that this was all the awful truth. Hades settled into anger over the general notion that anyone would betray the royal family in such a way, (less over Maci specifically being harmed, but his daughter was his property - yeesh ugh - no matter how grating he found her to be, so how dare he), bbbbbut his demeanor soon seemed more troubled in a different way the more this talk went on. Finally when it was over and all eyes turned to the King for his verdict, he unexpectedly sent everyone away except Maci, and the two of them had a final confrontation one on one.

Aaaaand here is where Hades solemnly explained to Maci that since Thanatos was a Death God, one of only two in eternity’s existence, there was nothing he could comfortably do to punish him, lest he risk the collapse of the functioning of the Underworld. At this point no one had any idea that removing Thanatos would generate a new death (Neo, 2,000 years in the future)!!

then!! as Maci listened in horror, unable to believe what she was hearing!! Hades turned on her.

demanding to know how could she choose to get involved with this situation, knowing Thanatos was essentially untouchable? What exactly did she expect him to do to fix this now? Hades turned vicious, falling back into their pattern of relationship - had she done this on purpose to make a scene and be the center of attention again, wasn’t that just oh so typical of her? And for that matter how dare she prostitute herself across the Underworld, making a fool out of the King? He spat that he had always assumed she could take care of herself, but now it was clear that she was not capable of it, and again, what did she possibly expect him to do now that she had ruined her own life, and allowed Thanatos to take advantage of her stupidity?

For once, Maci did not respond to Hades’ provocation with matching vitriol. Instead, sensing that his mind was not yet completely made up, with another piece of her shattering inside, she’d tried to plead to Hades' sensibilities as her father and not just the King, begging him not to do this to her. But the longer Hades went on without responding, the more Maci's temper began to boil, rising in sheer desperation even while tears welled in her eyes until finally she snapped at him that it was some move to send everyone away first, lest Persephone find out what a heartless fucking monster he was - and ohhhhh the second the words were out of her mouth, Hades' gaze turned ice cold and Maci immediately knew he WAS petty enough for her to have sealed her own fate. He reconvened the group. Maci started to cry.

to the shock of everyone gathered including Thanatos himself, Hades formally announced that Thanatos would be free to go.

Ignoring Maci sobbing next to him, Hades issued a proclamation to serve as a restraining order, barring Thanatos from interacting with her ever again. This would serve as Thanatos’ singular punishment (one that he barely obeyed, mind you). Then, ignoring the furious disbelief of Persephone on his other side, Hades went on to issue a further proclamation – citing Maci’s clear inability to responsibly handle herself, effective immediately until further notice the Underworld’s population as a whole would be ordered to embargo her, and in fact anyone caught interacting with her would be personally imprisoned. As Maci wailed and screamed and pleaded to deaf ears; as Seph sat disgusted and outraged at her husband but unwilling to override him; as Thanatos bowed to the King, recollecting himself at once into his simpering, smirking demeanor; Hades offered no apologies, and he exited without looking back aaaND BELIEVE IT OR NOT THIS IS STILL NOT THE END SHOULD I KEEP GOING!! OKAY I WILL!

Quite obviously this is something that Maci has never forgiven Hades for, and something that Hades has never regretted not at all, he would do the same thing again if he had to. Hades’ priorities are his kingdom - his wife. The end. Sorry Maci. Necessary sacrifices sometimes must be made, and why risk the kingdom to appease the ungrateful brat he’d spawned against his better judgement, the ungrateful brat who took pleasure in deliberately pushing all of his buttons??

Still - STILL!!! This wasn’t quite the last straw!! it did all get a little worse— at the risk of going on and on and on and on and on for a million years I’ll summarize, or try to. Right afterwards.,,, Due to the way Hades had chosen to handle the situation, he and Seph were now fighting - as oblivious and aloof as she could be, Seph did love Maci and felt that Hades had utterly failed her— so they fought, and when news of this conflict reached Olympus it was then that Zeus took advantage of the space between them to trick and assault Seph, conceiving Melinoe. This did cause the immediate end of Hades and Seph’s argument. Now with this new wretched child that Zeus had left for them, Hades took on sole “childcare” duties for baby Melinoe and pushed Maci to assist him, all during this embargo period he’d forced her into. Fearing that Maci and Melinoe could reunite against him in their shared mistreatment, Hades pivoted to lovebomb an utterly shattered and fully isolated Maci, manipulating her onto “his side” so that they could mistreat baby Melinoe together (yes! This is INSANE!)— until accidentally her evil side took over, creating OrigiMel. When Hades IMMEDIATELY turned on Maci and tried to blame her completely for Melinoe’s rise in power, Maci realized she’d been played for a fool by her father. (With eight years having passed, even while secluded within the palace, Maci had regained the ability to put on a show of bold confidence, and she had fucking had enough, so threatening to expose the fact that Hades was the monster who had made OrigiMel, Maci demanded he lift the embargo that still stood and let her do as she pleased. Annoyed at how all of this had gone on, Hades agreed.)

For the majority of Maci’s life following, Hades’ relationship with her continued to be tense and strained and bitter despite the two of them tersely cohabitating in the big palace but the absolute absolute absolute last straw for Maci took place 2,000 years later when Tory came into the picture.

Now with entering the canon Elysium’verse - YES ALL OF THAT IS PRE-CANON STUFF - once again the Tory thread is a whole nother novel cause their relationship story was an everlasting series of horrors but the final horror preceding their marriage was Hades, finding out at last that his horrible, embarassing, disappointing scourge of a goddess he was forced to call daughter had the audacity to DATE A MORTAL?!?!?! Chthonic gods don’t DO things like that, the Underworld isn’t OLYMPUS. the most taboo thing she could have ever done - How DARE SHE.

Hades tried to kill Tory.

Not like, threatened to have him killed, either - I mean in the sense of, “literally was strangling him to death over a cliff until Maci showed up and physically saved his life, and then Hades SHOVED THEM BOTH OFF THAT CLIFF AND TORY QUITE LITERALLY WOULD HAVE DIED IF SEPH HADNT SHOWN UP ON MACI’S SIDE ONE SINGLE BRIEF TIME, TO CATCH THEM BOTH”

….so…..

i ……… wonder why Maci and Hades don’t get along.

This was the end of their relationship ever again, obviously. Immediately afterwards Maci married Tory and she has not even spoken to her father in literal years, one of the last ever times being when Neo was born, a courtesy introduction and only because Hades was viciously and petulantly spreading rumors that Neo was probably not even Tory’s baby anyway (HELLO?????? WHO DOES THIS WTF?). Hades has not met any of Maci’s other children, to this date. Maci doesn’t miss him and never thinks about him, genuinely— though she’s never REALLY dealt with dissecting her childhood so maybe that’s a crisis for later….. one day.

Seph and Maci still have a relationship, though Seph remains always cheerfully distant and Maci hasn’t ever thought about processing any latent mommy issues to be affected by that not when Hades exists fgkfkff. Seph is starry eyed and 🤪fucking delusional🤪 and her greatest wish is for her husband and her daughter to make amends (HELLOOOOOOO WHAT THE FUCK) . Maci loves her mom she does and Seph loves her and her grandkids! But Maci knows in her heart of hearts that if asked to choose between her and Hades, Seph would choose Hades every time. The literal only time EVER she blatantly took Maci’s side was that one time ^ up there that Tory almost died.

And so….. here we are. 🤗 at the end!

I hope this novel length essay answers your questions! and I’m sorry I have limited info about Elysium!Hades/Seph theyre!! just not a focus for me lmao!! This is the Maci show and she is absolutely a product of her tragically awful upbringing - but those two deities responsible for her awful upbringing are merely that, avenues to explore Maci only.

………..BUT at least Hades didn’t murder his grandchildren so Odin still sweeps. NEXT!

[chidoroki]

I recently went back through old tweets of mine on a whim and realized that I read through TPN for the first time four years ago. I debated whether or not I wanted to continue the story, since I enjoyed watching season one blind, but my curious mind was screaming at me to learn more about this world and these characters fighting to survive in it. I thought about it for a while but eventually gave in and started from ch1 on April 2nd. Apparently, I loved it all so much that it only took me three days to catch up to all 129 available chapters at the time.

It was crazy to me back then, as someone who never felt the desire to read manga before, that a series was able to capture my heart so strongly, especially one that was so new to me. As more chapters released, I found myself willingly jump further down into an inescapable TPN hole. I started analyzing anything and everything, from characters to panels, to coming up with predictions or indulging in theories regarding how this wonderful story would end and what could happen to these precious kids I’ve come to love.

Naturally, many other series before and after TPN have caught my attention, but none have got me to hyperfocus on them as much. And not to get all sappy, but my experience in this fandom has sorta changed me a bit? I was always someone who would just watch, take and move on when it came to anime, but now I felt the need to create, chat and share anything I could. From writing out little chapter reviews, to making silly memes and numerous manga/anime edits, and engaging with others on and off this hellsite, I can say for certain that no series has made quite such a large impact on me as TPN did.

Sure, nowadays I may occasionally create something or ramble on about a handful of other series that are in my heart, but TPN still very much lives rent free in my head. So.. I’m gonna do something that I believe is very on-brand for me, which is..

182 Days of TPN

where I’ll share quick thoughts of mine about each chapter (181+epilogue) once per day.

Though the main idea is to talk about the manga, I can’t promise that I won’t mention the anime, since I love to compare the two. I’m also sure there will be moments where I’ll repeat myself from various other posts as well, so y’all will just have to endure it, especially with moments/characters I’m very passionate about. Nonetheless, these will vary in length depending on the chapter and whatever I decide to ramble on about, but let’s get started.

Day 1 - Chapter 1: “Grace Field House”

I said I’ll chat about the manga, yet I’m about to praise the anime for something instead. I’m already failing aahaha.. but the scene in question is where our young trio investigates the gate. Nothing is wrong with it in manga, of course, and naturally I adore Emma’s little imagination bubble with her and the giraffe, but I very much prefer how the anime puts this scene at the very start of the episode rather than the manga having it in the middle of the chapter.

If someone went into this series blind and decided to read the manga first, there could be a slight chance they might not pick up that anything is wrong with this world the kids are living for maybe half the chapter, unless you pay some attention to Emma as she narrates about her life:

“And I’m an orphan. Or so I thought.”

“This orphanage was my home.”

“Everything here was normal to us.”

“This was our ordinary daily life.”

The word choice is subtle, but it works. The thing with the anime, however, is that it (more often than not) leaves out the character’s internal dialogue, as to keep their true thoughts/plans/emotions from us so we can be surprised later.

Sure, the numbers on their necks, the serious nature of the daily tests, and the forbidden fence are all suspicious in their own way, but starting with the gate scene to make us wary of everything from the very beginning was a brilliant move on the anime’s part, as we don’t get to hear Emma’s narration.

I dunno, maybe it’s because I was anime-only first that I prefer the placement of this scene this way? It got me curious about this world and the kid’s situation right away and I knew I had to keep an eye out for any clues as to what might happen in the story. Despite being on guard the whole episode, all the tiny hints still couldn’t prepare me for the big reveal.

Of course leaving the secret to the very end and seeing how much it shook Norman and Emma was necessary, but man, if they showed us our girl being this determined after the terrifying and life changing night she just had, I would’ve fallen in love with her about 90 chapters sooner.

The fear and anxiety we do see from her does carry over into the next chapters/episode, so perhaps seeing her find this resolve would’ve thrown off the whole mood and that’s why it was cut. Though I can’t deny that giving us one final jump scare of Isabella finding Little Bunny left behind was the perfect way to end the episode.

Favorite panel/moment:

There’s so many I’d like to choose, due partly because the chapter itself is twice as long as any other, but I’ll give the first one to Norman since it is the rare occasion that his little hair.. swoop? curl? horn? (what the hell do we call this thing) faces the opposite way.

Ah, if only the anime had this scene instead of just have the duo seemingly run to the gate effortlessly. Knowing that Isabella locks the house up when she leaves would’ve added to the threat that the kids are indeed trapped here, but I understand they didn’t wanna give away too much in order preserve all the shock that came along with us seeing a very un-lively Conny.

[starberrywander]

My last opinion post has definitely been unpopular based on the responses (which are, so far, filled to the brim with strawman arguments), so I’m gonna make another one because I can.

-

History should be studied but it should not be identified with. Study history to learn the consequences of certain actions that have been done before, but don’t try to revive old movements. Make a new movement and give it a new name to represent what you believe, don’t try to argue about what past people believed.

Additionally, don’t cling so hard to old social movements. Let movements die and be replaced with better and more accurate ones as the cultural ideas change as a result of them. Quit trying to manipulate the definitions of movements to shoehorn them into new contexts. Let them die and make something new. All social movements have a lifespan and many have surpassed it. So many of the social movements we hear so much about are on life support and y’all just need to let them pass away. Treat them like a phoenix and birth something new from the ashes. Let history pass, please. 

Why? Well this train of thought was sparked by the fact that my MIL’s new husband has a confederate flag on his truck, and the fact that I keep hearing people trying to defend the confederacy. But it does apply to other things, which I will get to. 

The problem with this is that it often perpetuates misinformation and self-manipulation. When people try to identify with a group that was founded in a different cultural phase and time, they often try to twist the words and actions of their predecessors to fit their idea of what the movement should stand for. As a result, people start denying history and twisting facts, which can really make it difficult to properly learn from history and make informed decisions. It makes it much more likely that people will repeat history and reverse progress. 

As for the self-manipulation, people cut themselves off from the reality of their own history. They refuse learn and as a result end up repeating things that should not be repeated, simply because they won’t admit to themselves that the movement they are adhering to is outdated and flawed. It also can cause them to see people who try to correct them as enemies, creating divisions and polarization between groups. People who adhere too much to outdated groups run a serious risk of lying to themselves and perpetuating their own biases, causing more harm than good. 

Obviously as I said above this sentiment was originally targeted at the type of people who fly a confederate flag but insist that it isn’t about slavery or even that it’s anti-racist. They will often debate history and twist facts in order to allow themselves to continue believing that the confederates were people who would agree with them. They misinform themselves in order to make their views consistent, and in the process they deny both themselves and their beliefs the ability to grow and adapt.

But this isn’t just about confederate supporters. This is also about other movements. Particularly, Feminism. 

I know, I have often identified myself as a Feminist. I am not saying that the ideas of modern feminists are bad. I am not shitting on the intention and goals of feminism. I am absolutely not trying to compare feminism to the confederacy, so please don’t assume that from this post. But that label, and all the historical baggage associated with it, is on life support. Its definitely getting to a point where it needs to die out and be replaced, because the culture is changing. Feminism is not a bad thing, don’t misunderstand me here. But we are reaching a point in our society where it is becoming outdated. Or at least, its being over extended (there are still a few cases where it is relevant; the lack of female-bodied crash test dummies, for example. There are still some systemic injustices that need to be addressed, I’m just saying the movement is reaching its limits in many ways). In order for it to apply to the things that it has evolved to encompass, the definition has to be stretched so thin it feels like its about to snap. It continues being rebranded and expanded and there are tons of different types of Feminists from various different fracture points that all argue about what “real” Feminism is. 

My biggest example of this is the term “Intersectional Feminism.” It’s gaining tons of popularity and is a wonderful movement, but the things it stands for are not strictly feminist anymore. Its a social equity and justice movement, but its too broad to be fully encompassed by the term “Feminism.” The reasoning for why it is specifically feminist feel forced or over-stretched. The use of the word feminism, because of the historical context of feminism, often gives people the wrong impression. The movement is confusing to people because of the over-identification with a term that no longer properly fits. The term “Feminism” is holding the Intersectional Feminism movement back, imo. We can’t just keep redefining what Feminism is, we need to make a new movement altogether so we don’t need to do mental gymnastics to make our ideas fit a movement that was not built to contain them. 

In the case of Feminism, the over-adherence to it is watering down its meaning. Its holding back new movements and wasting a lot of people’s time. Its making the term start to lose its meaning because its been stretched too thin. Trying to make Feminism encompass so much beyond its original intent is damaging to the legacy of the movement. Its muddying the waters and making things unnecessarily complicated. Sometimes you just need to admit that you are a different thing and break away, and that is certainly the case with a lot of modern Feminism, in my opinion. 

I also think LGBT+ is beginning to reach this point. I wouldn’t say its on life support or anything, but its progressed pretty far through its lifespan. I think that sometime soon it should probably be replaced with something like MOGAI to adjust to the cultural changes. But thats not like an imminently necessary thing, just a personal opinion of mine. It’s mostly because our ideas of gender and attraction are evolving and we can’t just extend the acronym forever. Trying to individually include and define every identity within a single name is not an approach that is going to work for much longer, plus it kinda enforces a sort of rigidity in identity that is starting to decrease in popularity. 

In summary; if you have to ignore history, reinterpret history, or redefine your movement in order for it to fit what you stand for, that’s a sign that you should probably just create a new movement and leave the old one it the past. Don’t try so hard to adhere to something that doesn’t fit, its only gonna hold you back.

Anyway, I hope this isn’t as divisive as my last opinion post. I’ve had this on my mind for a bit and I hope I’m not the only one who feels this way. 

[uchutheangel9]

Hello, new and old welcome to my blog

I originally had an account called @uchu-the-angel before making a new account and made this blog this because I am already grown up to be a wise woman, and I don’t want to be in an account a reminder of the times I wasn’t mature i’ll use that as an example of my mistake, but I will not be posting on that account and blog along with the other blogs that I once created there are a lot of mistakes in my old account and I would rather restart things with a better understanding how Tumblr works since I started my old blog account in 2020 with no knowledge about Tumblr or any of that this new Tumblr blog account has been on since 2023 so not too long. I am already a change person. I might as well acknowledge on my mistake back when I was friends with a person who used to be on Tumblr I will not address who they are for their privacy but if you’re my old followers from my old blog you know who they are.

Mistake number 1: I called some people who are not related to me as my best friend or family; I didn’t clarify this one since I was confused of what family means at the time and I even called the most family way too early and just the first year. We first met that was my mistake even though I didn’t know they were uncomfortable I don’t want to repeat this again and no, just because it’s that person or even any other person says that they have a disability, for example, autism does not automatically mean their family or best friends. Since to gain a best friendship or family, it takes years and years to get used to each other and only then one or the other can be considered as a best friend or a family. No this doesn’t mean romantic love unfortunately and before anyone says anything, I do not want any romantic relationship. I’ve already been breaking up with three of them in IRL. I do not need another in the internet.

My mistake number two: making fan art of the characters without crediting the person who owns their original character; this one again is my fault back when I first came to Tumblr. I didn’t know you have to use (@) to credit the artist and have been using (#) for quite a while and it could seem like I’m stealing the characters which was not my intention, but it seems like it at least now I know what to use and what not to use. Since (#) are only used for categories while (@) are used to credit the creator.

Mistake number three: I should never ask for anyone to be on live on YouTube with me if they feel uncomfortable; this one I have started to think about it and even though I did ask them the first time I didn’t ask them again the second time yes I do own a YouTube channel. No, I will not be asking other people I just met. I will be only acting my friends if they are comfortable to do it with me, but that’s it. But again, I will not ask anyone to be online with me and less are comfortable with me or comfortable to being on live.

I believe there is more but I might update this just in case if I remember something, but that’s all I can think of.

Rules: I’ll be putting rules so that way no one gets hurt, gets bullied, or makes people uncomfortable. I don’t want anything to happen. Not only that it will not just be extended to you, but also to myself since I am, myself is still learning and I don’t want to make the same mistakes again or make mistakes that other people have done.

Rule 1. NO NSFW!: I may be an adult, but even I do not like NSFW neither does anyone else I may have a friend that does like these things, but that doesn’t mean that I myself should like them or anyone else. This also includes request for an art if you ask me to draw you an NSFW I will ignore you or block you so please do not do it.

Rule 2. Do not harass, cyber bully, groom, or abuse anyone not just minor but anyone no matter the age: this is something I keep hearing a lot in the art community and these are some serious topics. I do not care how old you are if you’re doing this. You’ll be instantly blocked and possibly reported.

Rule 3. Do not feel OCs (original characters): now I have mentioned that since I didn’t know how to credit the creator most of it looks like that I’m stealing their characters that also applies to you if you don’t give credit to the creator, you’ll be instantly blocked or recorded if you’re like me, you didn’t know how to credit the artist and all that use (@) is the only thing that will lead to the other artists or writers do you want me mistake? However, if you’re doing this intentionally not only that you’ll be blocked, but also reported for feeling someone’s character, including mine I have created OCs I hadn’t posted here yet and some that are in my old blog so do not steal any of them. Most of the drawings are my fan art from the person who used to write this story but there are some characters I posted and I don’t want those specific ones to be stolen.

Rule 4. Do not steal, tracing, or use AI for your art: again another serious topic in the art community. This is the reason why people started using watermark since people keep stealing art and tracing left and right and even using AI art as well it is not OK in the art community and is best to not only block them but also report them immediately.

Rule 5. Do not wish harm upon your enemies: Just because your enemy is following me does not mean you should wish her upon them it’s a thing that goes on and it is best to be passed around that way. This would not repeat itself. It has been repeating too many times it should be known.

Rule 6. Please for the love of God or any deity there is in this universe/world please be kind and respectful to one another: I understand you guys are minor, but some of you guys are adult as well or going to be adult and it’s best if you respect that if you can’t do that, you will be blocked because nobody wants to be disrespect.

This may get an update in the future so please be on the lookout just in case.

I am sorry if you cannot read this I have just wanted to market just in case if someone tries to steal this one. This is meet the artist and the creator, but just meet the artist.

Name: Jessica (IRL) but I prefer to be called Uchu (online)

Pronouns: She/Her/They/Them

Birthday: July 4th, 2002 (right now I’m 22)

Zodiac: Cancer ♋️ (not a disease)

Sexuality: Biromance and Asexual (I maybe gender fluid because my pronouns)

Disability: Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD), low IQ (this has changed but again I still have a lot of learning to do. It’s slow, but it’s worth it.) Trauma (it had changed over time since I no longer taking care of by my abusers but there are some times where I would freeze if I did something wrong such as spilling a drink no matter what liquid it is because I thought I was gonna be beaten up again before I go get a towel to dry the floor maybe that’s PTSD but I’m not really sure)

Likes:

* Drawing (I think that’s obvious)

* Japanese (yes my dad called me a weed)

* Dragons (love them since I was very little)

* Hatsune Miku (I’m not the only fan)

* Original Characters (pacifically my own)

* Design (this depends on a lot of things either by IRL, dress design, are there people artwork etc.)

* Crystal (fun fact I collect rocks. My mom asked me if I was collecting crystals for witchcraft and I told her no I just like rocks, but she may have a point.)

* Dolls

* Witchcraft (another phone back. Some of my ancestors are witches along with my mom and Grandma.)

* Games (video games only I do not like board games because my family will not play with me)

* Fallen Angels (I have a love angels since I was little plus because I played Obey Me! Shall we date and Obey Me! Nightbriner I may also like demons too who knows)

* blood/gore (my parents always said I have a dark side to it.)

* horror/thriller (you might want to think my mom for it)

Dislikes: (before anyone sent anything about the color I know it’s pink and plus I already use red on the rules so deal with it )

- getting blocked (I got traumatized over it when I first got blocked and I don’t want that again if I do get blocked again, I’ll use that as a lesson to myself)

- Abandoned (I was neglected as a child back then)

- Abuse (I was also abused when I was a child physically and verbally. There is a reason why I did say no abuse on my rules.)

- Lies (I’ve been lied before and I don’t want to be lied again.)

- physical touch without consent (this has always been with me since childhood. No one has touched me inappropriately other than my ex-boyfriends from middle school and high school including when I was living in the apartments with my parents but that’s it)

- Getting pulled by the hair (I understand this is physical abuse, but I still do not like it and that’s why I prefer my hair being short)

- Loud noise (if you have autism, you understand how it feels to listen to loud noises)

My other social medias

Instagram: Uchu Angel ( https://www.instagram.com/uchuangel/ )

Twitter (also known as X): Uchu the Angel (I don’t know how to share my link for this one, but you can find me on the search icon)

DeviantArt: xXHasamiFox2002Xx ( https://www.deviantart.com/xxhasamifox2002xx )

YouTube: Uchu the Angel ( https://youtube.com/@uchutheangel332?si=UIW5JdzOtOdbi8eq )

TikTok: jessicawitcher2 (again I don’t know how to put the link in. This will be the same just like the other one)

That is it for now understand that things will change so expect that in this post and I hope you guys have a lovely day.

[confrontthefamiliar]

New moon in cancer

I dreamt I was being unproductive with time but in the dream, the man I work for in reality, soon revealed to me that it was apart of the timing, nodding his head.

In the past, I’ve found myself doing things I didn’t want to do or spending time with people I didn’t want to spend time with.

This has led me to good friendships but my friendship with myself is more important than with others. Doing the things I want is more important than doing things for others. And sure it’s a balance. But I think I’ll be leaning into the first one these days. Especially with the nodes moving into Aries and Libra. Especially since this yearlong detour where I decided to serve others and help them build their dreams. I want everyone else to do what they want.

We say we need each other but that wouldn’t be right. Like any healthy relationship it’s a nice to have not a need to have.

The paradox of love and friendships.

I spent the winter and spring snowboarding though I’d have rather been surfing.

But I had to make a ton of tips and I had to be in one place.

And I was supposed to go sailing.

That was the whole point of being here.

And he had the nerve to say I didn’t follow through on my word. I listened to projection after projection. I’ve heard projection after projection. It’s time to be a detective of other peoples’ logic as a matter of beforehand.

My wrath these days amuses me. I suppose it’s looping around from the last full moon in Cancer back in January.

I’m going to channel it towards movement towards my drive. My drive is coming back but it’s still pixelated.

The other thing is I quit smoking tobacco. Cigarettes keep so many emotions at bay.

At first I got a rush from the emotions flooding at me that I had smoked through all this time.

They’re telling me to cry. They’re telling me to be enraged.

I’m going through a portal of emotion.

I’ve tried quitting multiple times for the last two years. The last three men I dated were smokers. I think quitting the cigs is also quitting these kinds of men.

I want to be less anonymous and try to reveal myself more and see what happens. Maybe I’ll stop seeking intimacy in doomed situations. My shyness is peeling off. I sang on the stage at a friend’s birthday party.

I’m listening to this YouTube playlist at a Mediterranean cafe on the northwest coast of Tahoe - my favorite part of the lake. Back in Spain when I was 24, they played the same playlist at a surf hostel I worked at.

It’s that theme repeating of absolute delight, of absolute pleasure, of absolute joy. There was a song that haunted me on that playlist because I couldn’t find it for years after.

“And then she’d say, ‘It’s okay, I got lost on the way, but I’m a supergirl, and supergirls don’t cry’… she’s sowin’ seeds, she’s burnin’ trees.”

It has always been my song. I pay more attention now to songs that pop into my head. They’re messages for me.

Back in Ecuador when I was 26, I made my friend a bracelet that said viento when I didn’t know what to make it say as I was at a particularly existential point in my life and didn’t believe in anything.

But I’m back on the viento.

Who could have known the lack of meaning would become viento and in doing so become meaningful?

I never want to allow a man to lead me astray. That’s why I’ll be a captain.

If it’s not a fuck yes… I said to Cristian.

And in the meantime, while things pixelate, I realize it’s okay to do literally nothing to make money.

It’s sort of dangerous. But it’s different. A different lifestyle than I was taught.

The money remains the same but the writing flows. I collect herbs. I dry them and make teas and tinctures.

I didn’t know this would be the lesson. I didn’t know it’d suddenly be about timing and slowing down.

I didn’t know it’d be so welcoming to get back into my energy again. That I’d want to be alone so bad in the middle of summer.

At the man’s birthday whom I’m working for, his wife said, “He’s really good at closing chapters.”

That’s what I’m going to be good at.

I’m entertaining a lot of notions. There are things I want to do.

You’re waiting for the signs? Someone asked at the party last night.

I’m looking at new homes.

[sixstringphonic]

David Zaslav kills everything he touches, including GQ SFGATE columnist Drew Magary unpacks the latest in the saga of the HBO-slayer (July 5th 2023)

I should not know who David Zaslav is. I didn’t know who any of the big media CEOs were back when I was a happy little child, and I shouldn’t have to know who any of them are now. I should be able to fire up HBO Max, see that it’s still called HBO Max, treat myself to two horrible, horrible hours of a “Batgirl” movie, and then read a satisfyingly catty review of it in GQ.

Alas, I’m not that lucky. Because Zaslav is the man in charge of frankencorp Warner Bros. Discovery and, in an impressively short period of time, has managed to f—k up nearly everything within its considerable portfolio. Freelance writer Jason Bailey attempted to note all of those f—k-ups for posterity just this week, when he wrote an article for GQ excoriating Zaslav for his pathetic stewardship of WBD. It noted all of Zaslav’s lowlights, which I will repeat here for reasons that will soon become evident.

Zaslav wrote off that “Batgirl” movie rather than formally release it. He did NOT write off and bury “The Flash,” even though its titular star was an allegedly choke-happy asshole and the movie itself was something that even McG wouldn’t have put his name on (it tanked). He hired a clearly in-over-his-head Chris Licht to oversee CNN, only for Licht to destroy morale within that company even faster than Zaslav could have on his own (Licht has since been fired). And it’s not like CNN was my favorite news source in the universe prior to this. You have to really try to make CNN more inane than it already was. Zaslav did.

Somehow, it gets worse. Zaslav reduced HBO, the most valuable brand name in television, to a “brand hub” on a rebranded Max streaming service. He memory-holed a great many other films and shows that were released — HBO’s “Westworld” series being the most visible of them — from that same service to avoid paying residuals. He changed all of the specified film credits on Max to “creator,” changing them back only after his people said that it was the result of a technical oversight, which no one believes. And he gutted an already highly profitable and artistically priceless TCM, seemingly more for fun than for anything else.

All of these changes were not only unwelcome but also NOTICEABLE. Same as if Dan Snyder owned your favorite NFL team. That’s why Zaslav got booed by students at Boston University while trying to give a commencement speech. It’s why striking Writers Guild of America writers, myself included, have made him the face of studio bosses who want to reduce TV and film writing jobs to gig work. It’s why Zaslav’s crimes against both art and basic consumer preferences need to be put on the record. It’s why Bailey wrote what he wrote, and why he was right to do so: posterity, so that we all know who’s to blame for this f—kery and why they deserve to be remanded to a space prison.

This was a damning blog post but also still just a blog post. All damning stuff but all easily ignored if you’re a captain of industry. Lord knows such men have capably ignored similar attempts to own them online.

Zaslav didn’t ignore it. Quite the contrary. According to Will Sommer in the Washington Post, a Zaslav spokesperson called GQ to complain about Bailey’s post, after which an unidentified GQ editor dumbed it down (see the changes on Archive.today; Bailey refused to put his byline on them). Then GQ deleted the post entirely and told WaPo that the piece “was not properly edited before going live,” which I don’t believe because I worked at GQ from 2012 to 2019 and never had anything run that hadn’t gone through at least one round of proper and occasionally painful edits, if not many more. Keep in mind that the New York Times has already reported that GQ assigned Bailey this piece, with the explicit pitch that Zaslav was the “most hated man in Hollywood.” GQ knew what it was doing, and it knew what kind of paper-skinned loser it would piss off when it did it.

Knowing this, GQ could have, should have, stood by its reporter, especially given that he was a freelancer just trying to earn a living. Maybe if former Editor-in-Chief Jim Nelson was still in charge of the place, it would have. That GQ was both thorough and undaunted. But Variety just reported that current Editor-in-Chief Will Welch is attached as a producer on an upcoming Warner Brothers film that’s based on a GQ story and that he was one of the editors Zaslav’s stooges complained to. So it’s not hard to connect the dots as to why his GQ would abandon its journalistic principles just to please Zaslav. (Multiple sources within GQ told SFGATE they weren't even aware of the controversy until it became public; Bailey politely declined to talk to me for this piece.)

As someone who adored working at GQ, I cannot begin to tell you how much all of this disappoints me. I worked for Nelson. I also worked for the people who annihilated Deadspin and just published their first post written by a bot instead of an actual person. I know the difference between these two leadership styles, and it is stark. You can see it right in the product, and you can see it everywhere in Zaslav’s leadership. Not only is this man a terrible CEO, but he’s also an imperious coward who’s more than willing to swat down anyone who dares question his authority. Our worst kind of rich person.

Maybe Zaslav was able to get Welch to back down from public criticism, but my bosses here at SFGATE won’t be similarly cowed. So, for the permanent record, let me state all of this again flatly: David Zaslav is an eel who sucks at his job. He’s destroying HBO. He’s destroyed what bare credibility the DC Universe had left with moviegoers. He’s forced GQ to willingly debase itself. He’s destroyed TCM. And while he couldn’t get Licht to destroy CNN, he’ll find some other pair of docksiders to finish the job.

It’s a fact that, in an age of mass consolidation, no one person could possibly run all of a billion-dollar entertainment conglomerate effectively. But David Zaslav has distinguished himself not only by being unable to run ANY part of one but also by being such a brazen coward about that fact. I shouldn’t know who this man is. But here he is, and now he should deal, in full, with what he’s wrought. He’s a parasite: a terrible CEO, an enemy to artists, and a lousy, horrible graduation speaker to boot. I hope he’s strapped to a chair and forced to watch “The Flash” on repeat for the rest of his pathetic little existence. And no, I’m not deleting this.

GQ pulls article slamming Warner Bros. Discovery CEO Zaslav after complaint

The writer said he asked to have his byline removed after GQ made extensive changes after publication. The magazine removed the story instead. 

The Washington Post, July 5th 2023 - In an unusual step, GQ magazine removed an article critical of powerful media executive David Zaslav from its website just hours after it was published Monday, following a complaint from Zaslav’s camp.

The story, by freelance film critic Jason Bailey, excoriated the CEO of Warner Bros. Discovery for his handling of the company’s entertainment properties — specifically perceived crimes against film, such as the layoffs at the Turner Classic Movies channel that outraged prominent directors and other superfans and his decision to not release finished movies such as “Batgirl” for tax purposes. At one point, Bailey compared Zaslav to tyrannical “Succession” patriarch Logan Roy.

“In a relatively short period of time, David Zaslav has become perhaps the most hated man in Hollywood,” Bailey wrote.

A Zaslav spokesman complained to GQ about the story soon after it was published, according to people close to the process who spoke on the condition of anonymity to preserve confidences. By early afternoon on Monday (7/3), the magazine had made extensive edits to the story…

Archived versions of the original and edited versions of the article show significant changes that had the effect of softening its tone. A line calling Zaslav “the most hated man in Hollywood” was deleted. The “Succession” comparison was removed, as was a segment where Bailey called the reality shows that Zaslav oversaw while running Discovery “reality slop.”

The final paragraphs of the original article compared Zaslav to the pitiless businessman played by Richard Gere in “Pretty Woman,” with Bailey writing that the executive is “only good at breaking things.”

The ending of the edited article was much kinder to Zaslav, removing the “Pretty Woman” reference and simply noting that film aficionados’ complaints have “gotten personal.”

Bailey told The Washington Post that, after GQ made the changes, he asked editors to remove his byline. He said an editor told him that GQ would not keep an article on its website without the author’s name. By Monday afternoon, the article was removed entirely from the site.

“I wrote what I felt was the story I was hired to write,” Bailey said. “When I was asked to rewrite it after publication, I declined. The rewrite that was done was not to my satisfaction, so I asked to have my name removed and was told that the option there was to pull the article entirely, and I was fine with that.”

…“I think a side-by-side comparison of the piece before and after GQ’s internal edits reveals exactly what WBD wanted changed, and that GQ was happy to do so,” Bailey wrote in an email to The Post.

GQ has a corporate connection to Warner Bros. Discovery. The magazine’s parent company, Condé Nast, is owned by Advance Publications, a major shareholder in Warner Bros. Discovery. Advance Publications did not respond to a request for comment.

[noteguk]

bad influence | jjk | m

— summary; in which you know Jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time. 

— contents and warnings; pwp, badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, car sex, dirty talk, fingering, hair pulling, breast play, jk has a big dick and an attitude, unprotected sex (condoms are your friends), jk being kind of a douche, use of the word “slut”, cum eating, creampie, cockwarming, possessiveness, he slaps her ass like once, enemies to fuckbuddies pretty much 

— words; 4.5k

— author’s note; I got carried away because I don’t know how to control myself!!! Also bad boy Jungkook is a fucking concept and I’m exhausted. Have fun. //  BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

You didn’t even know who you were trying to convince when you told yourself that you wouldn’t fall for Jungkook’s cheap charms anymore because, clearly, that wasn’t working. Every time you saw him, every dumb promise you made in front of the mirror came crumbling down, erasing your defenses along with it. 

That whole “falling for the bad boy” fiasco was really pathetic, and you knew that terribly well. You thought you had prepared yourself well enough to see through that mess of testosterone and leather jackets, of hollow smirks and messy dark hair. You knew better than to get involved with someone that didn’t take anything seriously and, worse, that mocked you for doing the opposite. 

You knew that Jeon Jungkook was nothing but trouble and, yet, you came crawling back to him every single time.  

“Fuck,” he moaned against your mouth, his eyes flickering shut at another roll of your hips. His voice was so deep, so rough, that you felt yourself clenching around nothing, a small whimper dripping from your lips as you pressed your panties against his bulge one more time. “You should wear skirts more often, you look like a sexy schoolgirl.”

You rolled your eyes, struggling to keep your balance on his lap. Straddling him on the driver seat of his car really wasn’t how you thought your night out would end, but it wasn’t all that surprising either. “I fucking hate you sometimes,” you spat.

Jungkook smirked, taking one of his large hands to the back of your head. “Only sometimes? I should try harder, then.”

You were left without a chance to respond because, within a second, he was pressing his lips against yours in a deep, sensual kiss. Jungkook always made out with you like he was about to lose you, like he was drowning and you were his last, desperate gush of air. Jungkook had been the only one who had ever kissed you like that, so messy, but yet so passionate; every curl of his tongue against yours making you melt in his embrace. You, of course, would never tell him how much you liked it, your pride would never allow you to do so.

His palm was firm and hot against your cheek, tilting your head slightly to the side so he could deepen the kiss. His other hand was tenderly placed on your hips, guiding them as you continued to grind against his clothed erection. The air inside his car was so heavy that you felt as if you couldn’t even breathe, only small whimpers echoing between your mouths at the gentle caresses of your clit against the fabric of his pants. 

But, as much as Jungkook was having fun, that grinding session was starting to annoy him a bit. He had been waiting to have you all night — going through the motions of boring bar conversations and brushing off the shameless flirting of other girls — and he wasn’t going to spend his sweet time just dry humping you like you two were horny teenagers. 

So, he took his shot as you raised your hips from his. Before you could move your body down once again, one of his hands traveled beneath the hem of your skirt, his nails pressing down on the skin of your thighs as he made his way towards your pussy. Jungkook had been daydreaming about your cunt wrapping around his cock for far too long then, and he needed to remind himself of how good that felt. 

“Fuck, babygirl, look at you… You’re soaked and I didn’t even touch you yet.” Jungkook smirked wickedly, his fingers faintly tracing its way up and down your clothed folds. You shivered at the contact, biting on your lip to avoid moaning out — he, of course, noticed that. He had quite the natural talent when it came to seeing what made you tick. “Why are you holding back, baby? Afraid that someone will hear you?” 

Your only response was a shaky breath from your nose, the words far too complicated to leave your mouth. Only Jungkook, in all of his great self, was able to make you such a mess so quickly, and you hated your body for being so reactive under his touches. It was the expectation, you noticed, the anticipation of knowing how well he fucked you, of knowing he was only taking his time before ruining you. 

Without hesitation, he pulled your panties to the side and placed two of his fingers between your pussy lips, barely brushing your entrance. Jungkook covered his digits with your wetness and moved them toward your clit, pressing them delicately on your sensitive nub. “I asked you a question, baby.” 

A bit overwhelmed, you breathed out, trying to keep yourself composed. It was almost impossible when it came to him. “Yeah, I don’t want people to know,” you admitted. 

He knew that, of course. It was a common worry amongst the two of you — especially when Jungkook had such a thing when it came to risky places to have sex in. Fucking you in his car, right outside the bar where you two had accidentally ran into each other, was far from being one of the most out-there situations he had created. 

“Hm? Know what?” He continued playing his self-indulgent game, pressing down on your clit. Your body jilted at the contact, mouth parting slightly and hands resting on his broad shoulders as he began slowly moving in circles over your sweet spot. “That pretty little ___ isn’t such a good girl, after all?” 

“J-Jungkook,” his name was a pathetic moan that died on your tongue, barely a whispered plea as he continued his advances on your clit. You had broken down so easy and so fast, you didn’t even remember you had once promised yourself that you would never come back to his bad boy shenanigans. 

But it was so, so hard to keep yourself away from him. You were only human, and Jungkook was this little demon ruining you just a bit more every time. 

“Are you worried that they’ll know that, beneath all those good grades, all those nights spent studying in your room, all that fucking charity work...” His fingers pressed harshly against your clit and your back arched, making you almost hit the steering wheel behind you. The thought of accidentally pressing down the horn made your blood run cold, and you forced yourself to lean back against his chest. “That under all that, you’re still a slut for my cock?” 

Your eyes fluttered shut, pleasure starting to climb up your spine as his voice guided you towards the past. All the times you snuck out during the night, all the times he fucked you raw after just bickering with you in front of your friends. All the times you told everyone that he was just a pile of trouble, and yet you begged for him to bury himself between your thighs until you were crying out his name. Really, it was difficult to find a bratty clapback when he was fucking you senseless, and Jungkook seemed to like that discovery just as much as you. 

And still, sometimes he didn’t like when you didn’t answer him. 

“You’re so shy all of a sudden…” he trailed off, taking one of his hands to pull up your crop top. He didn’t take it off, especially when he knew you’d freak out being topless in a public parking lot, he just needed to have better access to your bra. “You aren’t this quiet when you’re around other people, though. Always mocking me, being so mean…” 

“Don’t play the victim, you do the same to me,” you found the strength to respond, making Jungkook stop his motions on your clit right away. You sighed in frustration, your shoulders falling as you watched him lick his lips. “Why did you stop?”

“I’m waiting,” he said.

“For what?” 

“For an answer, baby.” He smirked. “You’re so mean. You always leave me hanging.” 

“That’s not true,” you said, taking your hands to his nape. There, you played with the strands of his hair, making him groan after a harsh pull. “What’s the question?” 

Jungkook hummed, taking his free hand to your bra and cupping one of your breasts — his other one was still paused, hovering over your clit like an unspoken promise. “Do people know?” He repeated, unclamping your bra with one swift motion and pushing it up along with your top. “Do they know how much of a dirty girl you are?” 

You swallowed hard and pushed your body against his fingers, trying to find some more friction. “I’m not,” you said, but could not believe your own words. “It’s just—“

The lie vanished the second that his lips found your nipple, his velvety tongue coming out to circle around it before he gave you a harsh suck. You pressed yourself closer to his mouth at the contact, and you could no longer hide the needy moan that escaped you — which seemed to satisfy Jungkook. 

“You’re not?” He spoke as he pulled away from your breast. Jungkook’s fingers slithered away from your clit and dove inside your pussy without further warning, making you cry out his name. No matter how many times you touched yourself, your fingers could never compare to his larger ones, making you stretch out so sweetly around them. “So why are you soaking my fingers like this? That’s so filthy, baby...” 

You clenched your teeth. “God, you’re so annoying.” 

“And you’re so wet,” this time, however, the mockery in his voice had faded a bit, giving space to a newfound wave of lust. As much as Jungkook loved to tease you, he was quite fast to break too — and the lewd sounds of your pussy were making him lose his mind. “Are you remembering all the times I fucked you before? All the times I pounded this tight pussy until you were crying? Begging for my cock?” 

God, you could feel as the heat started to spread down your body, guided by his words alone. When you spoke again, your voice wasn’t as firm as you expected. “J-Jungkook, that’s not…”

“Not what, baby?” He interrupted, tilting his head to the side. You hated how clothed he was, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to ride him like that — in that stupid leather jacket of his. “You didn’t like it?”

“I- I did.” It was getting hard to think when his thick fingers were pumping in and out of you so well. “I loved it.”

Those words left your throat before you could stop yourself, and your heart almost sank when you realized you had actually praised Jungkook, local douchebag, for something. You knew that he wouldn’t let that go anytime soon. “Loved being fucked like a good slut, right?” He asked, moving his fingers faster. You moaned especially loud when he started pushing them apart, scissoring you. 

“Yes,” you gasped, utterly defeated at that point. 

“Hmmm… so let me ask you again, and I expect a direct answer this time,” Jungkook said, leaning his head against the crook of your neck. His voice was a cloud of heat against your skin, vibrating up and down your body. “Do people know that you’re a slut for my cock?”

“No,” you finally responded, fingers digging on his hair. Your pleasure was increasing so fast that you knew it was just a matter of time before you were cumming around his fingers, like you had done so many times before. “Only you know, Jungkook.” 

That seemed to really satisfy him, because it was his turn to grunt against your flesh. The sound of his voice, so hoarse and guttural, made you clench around his fingers. “You’re getting so tight, baby.” He breathed out, unable to hide the desire that coated his words. Jungkook really needed to feel that delicious pussy of yours around his cock before he went insane. “Close?”

This time, your answer didn’t take long to come out. “Yes.”

“I have another question for you,” he started, and you would've rolled your eyes at him if you weren’t so awfully close to your high. “Do you wanna come on my cock or my fingers?”

“Both, please,” you moaned out and rolled your hips against his hand, dignity long forgotten. You wondered what your friends would say if they knew you were pleading for Jungkook, of all people, to make you cum. 

“Not both, you have to pick one.” Jungkook stopped his movements for the second time that night, and you couldn’t help cursing out at the absence of motion. You clenched around his fingers, making a sly smirk spread across his features. “I’m feeling especially greedy tonight.”

“Fuck you,” you said, taking a moment to organize your thoughts. As much as you really, really needed to cum, the idea of not having Jungkook’s dick inside you was much worse than waiting just a few more minutes to have it. “Your cock.”

He smiled and, for a moment, he almost looked innocent. Almost. “I thought so,” Jungkook teased, giving you one final pump of his fingers and watching as you bit your lip at the abrupt feeling. “I know you love it.” 

You scoffed. “You have such an attitude.” 

“Maybe,” Jungkook said as he removed his fingers from your pussy, watching how they shimmered, coated by your wetness. He looked up at you and took his hand towards your mouth. “Let me see you taste it,” he told you, tapping on your bottom lip. Obedient, you opened your mouth for him, allowing for his digits to slither inside. With a whimper, you sucked him like you would his cock, curling your tongue around him in a way that left Jungkook cursing out. “So fucking hot.” 

His eyes were focused on your mouth as he pulled his fingers away from it, swallowing dry at the “pop” sound it made when it left your lips. “Now,” he almost groaned, “let me taste it.” 

Jungkook crashed his mouth on yours, making you moan against his kiss once again. His tongue hungrily danced with yours, searching for your taste as his hands grabbed your ass, pressing you down against his aching member. You never wanted something as much as you wanted to feel him inside you right then, and Jungkook also didn’t want to wait any longer. 

He smirked against your mouth when he heard the sound of his zipper opening, your hands working fast to pull his pants down. “I told you that you love my cock.”

“God,” you complained, pulling at the hem of his pants. Jungkook raised his hips from the seat so you could slide them down, bringing his underwear along with it. “Do you ever stop talking?” 

“Only when you let me eat you out.” His cock had sprung free, resting against his abdomen as your hands moved to grab it. Again, another compliment that you would never give him, but Jungkook had one of the prettiest (and biggest) dicks you had ever seen; already so enlarged and red-tipped, leaking with pre-cum. Just looking at it made you horny, and it wasn’t long before you were taking it in your hand, giving it a few pumps before brushing your thumb over his crown, spreading his wetness all over it. “Fuck, that feels good.” 

The pleasure in his voice almost blinded you for a moment, making you forget what had been your intention in the first place. However, as you felt yourself clenching around nothing, you came back to your senses. 

“I wanna feel your warm little cunt around me, baby,” Jungkook breathed out, watching as your hand continued to pump him. 

“You’re lucky I’m feeling especially nice tonight,” you told him, placing your thighs closer to his center. With a grunt of expectation, Jungkook’s eyes followed as you raised your skirt with one hand and guided his cock towards your heat with the other one. “Ready to make your schoolgirl fantasy come to life?” 

He opened his lips to respond, but his voice was lost the second that you pressed his tip against your opening, coating his cock with your warmness. “Fuck, baby,” he moaned, hands grabbing your ass as you sank down on him. 

“Oh, God,” you whined as you bottomed out, your walls pulsating around him as you got used to his size. No matter how many times he fucked you, you couldn’t get used to his large size and the amazing way he filled you up like no one else could. “Jungkook, you’re so big.��� 

That was another comment that, unfortunately, you could not hold back. Because you hated yourself, that was why. “You can take it, baby,” he said, pressing down on your ass. “Be a good girl and take everything.” 

With his added force, you sank down until you had all of him inside you, practically sitting against his thighs by the time you were done. Taken away by the delicious feeling of his thick cock inside you, you started slowly setting a pace, moving up just so you could crash back down; the sound of skin on skin filling the still, muffled atmosphere of his car. 

“Shiiiiit, ____, you’re so tight.” He breathed out heavy, watching the way your bodies connected; the way his dick was coated by your wetness. “I can’t get used to it, it’s the best pussy I’ve ever had.” 

Now it was your time to be carried away by his compliments. It was stupid, but having Jungkook praise you (especially after he spent most of his days making fun of you) had you feeling over the moon. Before you could hold yourself back, you were already setting up a rhythm, bouncing up and down on him in a way that got him seeing stars; moaning in delight every time you rolled your hips on him. 

“Fuck, yeah, ride this cock,” Jungkook groaned, thowing his head back against the seat. His hair was a mess, falling over his eyes and gluing against his sweaty forehead; and yet he looked like sin incarnated as you fucked yourself onto him. Those saliva-coated lips, those furrowed eyebrows, and the deep, hungry gaze that he sent you way every time you sunk down on him would be the death of you. 

Jungkook breathed out as you started to pick up your pace, your hands pressing down on his shoulders as your ass bounced against his thighs. “Such a good slut,” he praised breathlessly, taking one of his hands to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes.  “Such a filthy little thing.” 

Pride forgotten, you knew what he wanted to hear. “O-only for you,” your words were a confusing mess of syllables, mind drunk on the feeling of his big cock pumping in and out of you. Only Jungkook could fill you up like that, only he could make you such a mess so quickly. 

“Oh, I know, baby.” His palm came down heavy against the globe of your ass, stinging your skin and making you cry out in an amazing mixture of pain and desire. You whimpered at the feeling that his slap left behind, your eyes dazed and unfocused as you looked down at the boy. “This pussy is all mine.” 

You called out his name as he started thrusting up, the force of his movements increasing your pleasure immensely. You loved when Jungkook started to get rough with you, when he started to use you like you were just a doll for him to seek his own high. 

He pulled on your hair, making your head tilt backwards and presenting him with a glorious view of your neck. Jungkook groaned against your flesh, his lips and tongue attacking your skin in a way that you knew would leave marks the following day — just the way he liked it. “I want to fuck you forever,” he moaned, “Wanna make this pussy so messy with my cum. Mark it as my own.”

“It’s yours, Jungkook,” you told him, lost in the buildup of your pleasure. “It’s all yours.”

He groaned, and the force of his hips snapping against yours only increased. Weak, you allowed your body to tumble against his strong chest, letting him use you the way he wanted it. 

“Such a tight and wet pussy for me,” he moaned out through clenched teeth. Jungkook looked almost animalistic then, only wanting to fuck you until his stamina ran out. “Say my name, baby.”

“J-Jungkook,” you gasped. 

“Louder,” he hissed, buckling his hips higher. The feeling of his cock thrusting upwards and reaching even deeper inside you got you seeing stars, eyes rolling back and mouth falling open. “I want everyone to hear it. Hear how good I make you feel, hear that this pussy is all mine.” 

Any other time, you would refuse to do something so absurd — but, at that moment, your mind was floating far away from that car, and all that you wanted was to be a good girl for him. “Jungkook!” you called his name louder, moaning out at you felt his cock throbbing inside you. 

“Again,” he rasped out, his jaw clenching. 

“Jungkook, fuck!” You almost yelled out, the world turning into nothing as you continued to fuck yourself on his cock. Moments like those were wonderful: all your problems went away, and you could only focus on the way he made you feel so deliciously full. 

“Ah, that’s it, shit,” he cursed out, member throbbing inside your pussy, “I’m gonna fucking cum.” 

You cried out at the thought, wanting nothing more than to see him cuming because of you. “C-Cum inside me, please.”

“Yeah, baby,” he said, his voice lost in pleasure. You could feel his desperation from the way his hips crashed against yours with much more force, hitting deep inside you. “Take everything.” 

His mind went blank when you clenched around his cock, wiping everything away from him but the delicious feeling of your walls sinking down on him. Jungkook looked like he was in a haze, his eyes unfocused and teeth sinking on his lip, barely watching the way he disappeared inside you. He only needed a bit more to be pushed over the edge. 

“Please, fill me up, Jungkook,” you begged. His eyes darted towards yours, watching your face. He could see that you had tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, a faint heat in your cheeks. God, he had completely ruined you. “Please, I need your cum.” 

And that was it. His orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, a deep groan leaving his throat as he spilled himself inside you, hearing the lewd sounds of your wetness as he continued to thrust up against your pussy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, head falling against the seat once more. Jungkook’s eyes closed as he felt the last drops of his cum being milked by you, his mind a jumble of broken words and disconnected ideas. “Oh, fuck, baby, fuck. Take it, baby, fuck...” 

Of course you did as he asked, and you took every drop of his cum until it was starting to spill out of you. You couldn’t even look down, but you were sure that you were a complete mess between your legs. “J-Jungkook, I’m so close,” you cried out, drunk on the feeling of his thrusts. 

“God, that’s it.” He pressed down on your hips, overwhelmed with the feeling of your walls clenching around his sensitive member. Jungkook loved it, though, loved seeing you cum around his cock like it was all that you ever wanted to do; loved watching your face as you looked at him with so much desperation that he almost grunted out. You really were a precious thing. “Make a mess on my fat cock, come on, baby. Let me see you cum for me.” 

His request was like magic to you, and you came right after, calling his name amidst breathy moans and high-pitched whimpers. Jungkook kept whispering in your ear as you rode your high, praising how good you were for him, how good you felt around him, until you crashed down against his chest, absolutely spent. 

Still, you had experienced enough sexual adventures with Jungkook to know that he still wanted two more things before he called it a night. He had his particular tastes. 

“Let me see it.” Jungkook told you about a minute later, and you knew exactly what he wanted you to do. With your thighs still trembling a little, you leaned back against the steering wheel and pushed your body upwards, letting his dick slip out of you. Jungkook hummed in delight as you pulled up your skirt and he watched his cum dripping down your thighs, painting your folds in a delicate shade of white. He always loved to admire his work. “So fucking pretty… and all mine.”

You had to bite down your lip not to whimper at the touch of his fingertips against your pussy, catching a bit of his cum on them. He took it to his mouth, humming around his digits as he tasted himself. “You always make such a mess,” you complained. 

“Shut up, I always clean it.” Jungkook sighed, looking at you almost tenderly. “You know what I’m gonna ask.”

Yes, you did. 

You sighed. “Fine.”

Jungkook hummed happily as you propped yourself over his cock once again, now half-hard, and placed it back inside you, sinking down until you were sitting on his lap. “Good girl.” He sighed in bliss, his hand caressing your hair as you rested your head against his broad chest. You didn’t understand why Jungkook loved staying inside you after sex, but you couldn’t deny that you weren’t bothered by it. You just liked to pretend as if you were. “Feels so nice.” 

You pressed yourself against his chest. “I hate you.” 

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your lower back. “No, you don’t.” 

And you hated that he was right.

~ 

BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

[no-droids]

Whenever You Want

Part Fourteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.2K

Warnings: Listen there is some dirty smut in this one yall okay like I was blushing when I wrote it, it has a very stark beginning and theres a pagebreak afterwards if you would prefer to skip over it. Smut includes oral sex (female receiving) rough sex, sensory deprivation, butt stuff (ass to mouth, anal fingering/penetration) so PLEASE LOOK OUT FOR IT PLEASE. Also there is jealous/possessive mando in this, season 1 Karga makes another appearance, and some angst/fluff towards the end

A/N: Nothing much today yoditos just love you all

***

Din said he’d meet you here.

You’re currently sitting across from Greef Karga in a cantina on Nevarro, a closed shield next to you and a blaster tucked into the back of your waistband, hidden underneath your shirt.  You’re barely even looking at him, though—your eyes are attached to the door by an invisible string, forcing your gaze back to it no matter how much it bounces around the room.

You don’t know where Din is, you haven’t seen him in hours.  But you do know that when he left, he was moving slower than you’re used to.  You don’t think anyone else would notice, but you sure did.  Not that he was obvious about it—you only picked up on very subtle hints.  Leaning up against things just a bit more than he usually does.  Taking slightly longer exiting the ramp of the Crest than his normal strides would carry him.

He didn’t say what he was going to do—just that he needed to find someone before meeting with Karga, and you accepted it.  But truthfully, you didn’t want to.  You were worried about him—still are, actually.  But for all intents and purposes, he was speaking and acting like himself, showing no real signs of exhaustion other than the smallest instances you described before, so you didn’t really have a leg to stand on.  He’s been through way worse, and you know it.  You just… find yourself worrying about him so much more than you used to, and you need to learn how to gain some control over that part of you.

The kid was still passed out from healing him and you remember Din carefully setting four pucks down in the sleeping baby’s sphere and giving his ears a gentle rub between leather fingers.  He turned back to you and told you to meet him at the cantina in three hours, but if it ended up taking him too long for any reason, to try your best to see if Karga will let you exchange on his behalf.

Admittedly, he didn’t sound too confident about it—the instructions were delivered with a tone that implied a doubtful, just-in-case scenario he wasn’t foreseeing happening.  Or maybe he just doubted the likelihood of Karga agreeing to do business with you, you’re not entirely sure.  All you know is that when he left, you were almost certain he wouldn’t be late, but you also took the time to grab the smallest blaster from his armory before heading out just in case.

Yet—here you are, three and a half hours later, eyes flicking between the door and Karga as you attempt to keep up polite conversation.  After turning down his offer of alcohol for the fifth time and still not seeing any glimpse of beskar coming to your rescue, you figure this may be as good a time as any to start the exchange.

During an extended break in the small talk, you slowly reach over to the corner of your booth and press a button on the face of the kid’s shield.  It hisses open and you completely miss the way Karga’s hand raises while three of his guards automatically reach for their hips.  The little green monster is still snoozing comfortably while you pull out the four glowing pucks Din left you and set them on the table one by one.

They scrape along the top of it as you slowly push them over to him, before sitting back in the booth and clearing your throat, flicking your eyes between Karga and his guards.  To you, nobody appears to have moved, so you muster a polite smile at him.

Karga smiles back, but makes no move to gather or inspect the offerings in front of him.

“Um…” you say after a moment, suddenly feeling your heart start to beat a little faster.  “Mando… Mando gave me permission to exchange on his behalf.”

“I believe you,” he drawls out in response, but the pucks still sit untouched in front of him as he leans back in the booth and studies you.  “Mando has always had a… let’s say, a frustrating penchant for disregarding the pillars of our code.  My apologies, young lady, but I’m afraid that I cannot accept these from you.”

Your voice comes out quieter than you’d like it to sound.  “Why not?”

“It is… unlawful,” he answers after a moment.  “Our organization operates under strict rules.”

Does it?  You blink.  No, it doesn’t.  You’re nothing to the Guild and you’ve sat next to Din quite a few times while Karga talked, listening to him drunkenly boast about return rates and out members by name.  You’re not sure why he’s barring you like this, but you’re also not self-assured enough to put practically any spine into it whatsoever.  “I’m… afraid I don’t understand.”

“I cannot legally do guild business with individuals not recognized as members in an official capacity,” he sighs, sounding grave and almost apologetic about it, but you don’t know him well enough to know if he’s a good actor or not.  “There’s nothing I can do for you besides provide you with my company, not until Mando decides to show.”

Well now that doesn’t make any sense, and you’re starting to worry that for some reason or another, he isn’t going to show.  Though it was incredibly well concealed, you’re well aware that Din was still lingering in the final recovery stages when he left the Crest earlier and all you have to go on is his word that he’d be here.  Something could’ve happened.  Something could be happening right now, you need to push.

“People pick up bounties for extra credits all the time,” you mumble, still way too fucking quiet about it.  Maker, you’re not even sure if he could hear that over the sound of the cantina.  Speak up, speak up.

“Yes, but those quarry are listed on the New Republic’s most wanted database,” Karga acknowledges diplomatically, educating more than he is arguing, before uncorking the bottle of glowing blue alcohol in front of him and beginning to pour himself another shot.  “They’re fodder.  Up for grabs—names, last known locations, and biometrics published for the entire galaxy to read.”  He tilts his head down at the four metal pucks on the table without removing his gaze from the gradually filling glass.  “Those pucks are different, they’re commissions.  Tied specifically to Guild contracts.”  Karga clunks the bottle back down again and corks it, pinning you with a stare.  “For all I know, you could’ve murdered a member of our ranks and come to collect payment for his bounties.  Can’t have that.”

Your blood suddenly turns to ice at the implication, eyes wide and your heartbeat rocketing as you look from Karga to the three guards casually stationed behind him.  “You—You think I murdered Mando?”

“No,” he says, easily and in the very same breath, before throwing the shot back and wiping his mouth with a grimace.  “Not sure I’d care too much if you did.  It’s not my rule, but I am required to follow it or risk losing my position in the Guild.”

Shit.  Shit.  What do you do?

You’re blank, left quiet and feeling increasingly unsure of how to proceed.  Karga, however, seems completely unbothered and even appears to be enjoying himself and your company.  He gives you another smile, this one a lot friendlier and more genuine than the one earlier, before setting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.

“Look, I want to help you,” he admits, keeping his tone light, “but my hands are tied.  Just relax and share a drink with me until he gets here, it’s not a problem.”

Fuck, you don’t like this, and a quick look around brings another reminder of Din’s continued absence.  Your chest feels tight, the anxiety starting to compound and make you jumpy.  It’s been too long—it’s been at least forty minutes or so of waiting by now and something just feels wrong about this.  Not having him next to you feels wrong enough on its own, but when he specifically told you he’d be here?

You clench your jaw and try to work up your nerve.  Karga is a nice guy, right?  He knows you by name, he knows who you are to Mando.  And while you never really thought about the bounty hunter’s omnipresent protection as being anything other than metaphorical, you suddenly realize that… it might be literal, too.  How much sway do you actually have here, you wonder?  You’re not stupid, you’re not going to try anything stupid, but maybe just another question won’t hurt?

“Well, um… how do you become a member, then?”  You ask him, and you watch as he leans back in the booth, raising both eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?”  He asks, though there’s a genuine amusement in his voice.  Stunned that you’d even say the words aloud.

“I have four bodies,” you tell him shortly.  You’re still quiet about it, but his thoroughly entertained astonishment is beginning to rub you the wrong way.  You don’t want to be part of the Guild, you don’t want to be here, you’re doing this out of growing necessity.  “One of which I dragged through a blizzard on Hoth by its ankles and put into carbonite myself, so please just tell me what I have to do to get you to take them.”

“I can’t,” he repeats, shaking his head like you’re just not getting it.  “New members are only accepted if they bring in an S-level criminal from the database or if they complete a commission that was granted to them by someone of my station—neither of which apply to you.  If you cannot present me with any sort of reasonable argument for which they could, then I’m afraid this is not a favor I can swing.”

“I was sitting right here,” you return, suddenly finding your voice.  If Karga wants an argument from you to get this to happen, then you’ll do it.  You just need to finish this exchange, go back to the Crest, and scan around for Din’s signal.  “When you first gave the pucks to Mando, I sat right here and you pushed them over to this side of the table—I was present for the commission and now I’m here to complete it.”

He shakes his head.  “But I didn’t give them to you, I gave them to Mando—”

“Yes, but you only wanted to give him three,” you immediately point out.  “The last one, the one I told you I put into carbonite—you said you threw it in because you liked me, it could’ve been for me.”

Karga suddenly stops and blinks at you for a few seconds, and you bite your lip, wondering if the logic will hold.  It’s flimsy as fuck and you know he could very easily rip it apart if he wanted to.  It could’ve been for you but it wasn’t, he gave it to Mando.  You also purposefully leave out the fact that you’re also the reason Mando only gave him three bodies in the first place; your only goal here is to complete this transaction as quickly as possible and leave.  You don’t like the fact that it’s taking Din so long, and you also don’t like the fact that Karga seems so keen on keeping you here with him, no matter how many reassurances he provides.  He said he wants to help you?  This can be his chance to prove it.

After a few extended moments of consideration, Karga finally shrugs like he really couldn’t care less before reaching across the table for the pucks and beginning to stack them in his palm.

“What is your last name?”  He asks, turning behind him to gesture for one of his men with a jerk of his head.  The bodyguard exits the cantina without another word and your eyes flick back to Karga’s.

“Why does it matter?”  You ask uncertainly, watching another guard approach with a holopad as he shrugs once more.

“It doesn’t, but we need something for our records,” Karga explains, grabbing the device as it’s tapped against his shoulder without removing his gaze from yours.  “I can just use Doe if you don’t feel like sharing—most of our members tend to prefer anonymity, including your companion.”

Your eyebrows furrow even as your heart continues to pound, wondering how they can afford to be so lax about some things but take others so seriously.  “You have him down as John Doe?”

“First name Man,” Karga grunts in response, finally breaking eye contact to begin navigating through pages on the holopad.

“Ah,” you say shortly, knowing you’d probably find the joke funny in other circumstances.  You’re not out of the trenches yet, you still feel the worry tugging hard at your chest.

“Very well,” Karga announces with a sigh, pocketing the pucks in his leather overcoat and then handing the holopad back to one of the men flanking him after a moment.  “Someone is collecting the carbonite plaques from your vessel as we speak.”

You give him a nod, taking a deep breath that you hope is slow and subtle enough to not give your anxiety away.  He helped you out, you’re halfway through this.  Now comes the exchange.  Now it’s his turn to give you the credits and four more pucks, that’s how this should go.

Only, Karga leans back in his seat and cocks his head at you.  “Unfortunately, I believe we have found ourselves in the midst of yet another predicament.”

Your heart continues to slam, praying you haven’t somehow majorly fucked things up by getting this far.  Din still isn’t here, why is he so fucking late?  He nearly froze to death and you handled a dead body just to make this meeting on time, where the fuck is he?

You raise an eyebrow at him, willing the building panic not to show on your face.  “Have we?”

“You’re lucky credits are attached to commissions instead of rank within the Guild,” he prefaces, pulling out a large handful of them to begin counting, and your eyes flick around the cantina while you know he isn’t looking, “or else you’d be getting about half of what I’d normally give him.”

Heart galloping when you still don’t see any sign of him, you just decide to keep extra quiet as you watch Karga divvy out a sizable stack of credits, hoping your prolonged silence will protect you somehow.

“The question now becomes…” he lifts an eyebrow at you while sliding them across the table to you, “how many pucks do I give you in return, hm?”

Fuck, you don’t like this, you’re trying to make it crystal fucking clear that your intentions do not extend beyond the perimeter of this table.  There’s no you to be found in this deal, you’re just an emergency proxy in Din’s absence and you only inserted yourself in the situation to accomplish that task.  “I told you I’m only here to exchange on Mando’s behalf, that’s it.”

“Be that as it may…”  Karga glances around the cantina like he’s thinking extra hard about it.  This is a made-up problem, you both know there’s no predicament here.  He knows you didn’t kill Mando, he knows there’s no real reason to be giving you such a hard time about this, and you clench your jaw as he still seems to take his time considering it.  “Tell you what, young lady,” he finally turns back to you.  “Do me the honor of sharing one sip of this fine spotchka with me and I’ll give you four pucks to pass along to Mando.”

Okay.  Okay, you can do that, if he really cares that much.  Karga gestures for the closest droid to come by with a glass for you, but you just grab the bottle in front of him and uncork it without thinking too much, balancing the glowing blue liquid with two hands and diligently taking a small sip of it before setting it down again.  Appearing satisfied with your demonstration of upholding your end of the bargain, Karga grins and reaches into another pocket.

“Four for Mando,” he pushes four pucks across the table, “same rate and return as last time, as promised.”  You nearly deflate in relief as you quickly gather them up and begin dropping them into the snoozing baby’s shield along with the credits, but then Karga reaches back and pulls out another puck, pushing it over to you.  “And one for you.”

You blink at him, frozen in place.

“Lowest level, lowest pay.  Not even a criminal by New Republic standards, just a missing person,” he goes on to say, but then quite suddenly… 

Quite suddenly you’re absolutely fucking horrified.

You don’t want it.  Everything inside you surges up to scream that you do not want that puck.  It’s a waste of time, even if it’s an extra job—it’s too much trouble, too much fuel for such a small reward.  You already know good and well that Din won’t want to bother, getting this extra puck would be considered a detriment to him.

“What if I don’t want it?”  You ask, sounding nervous and vaguely out of breath as you look down at it.

Karga scoffs.  “Of course you don’t.  Nobody wants these, why do you think I’m trying so hard to pawn one off on you?”

Shit.  This is not at all how you expected any of this would go.  You know he’s not really asking, even if his tone and continued courtesy implies it’s only a request.  There’s an expectation attached to this, and it appears you take too long pondering an offer that isn’t actually voluntary.  Karga stares at you and your clear apprehension for just a few seconds more, before finally giving you an ultimatum.  “You said you’re here on his behalf.  You either take all five pucks now or Mando only gets three next time, your choice.”

Oh.  Oh, no.  This is a lose-lose; three pucks means more fuel and less credits, five pucks means more fuel and less credits.  It’s not like you have any real bargaining power here—almost everything he’s done for you today has been a favor of some sort and you’re well aware that things can always get worse.

Still, you take a deep breath and try your best to throw around whatever weight you have left in one final agreement.

“Give me your word you’ll go back to giving him four from now on, no more hassling or hard time constraints and we’ll take it just this once,” you tell him, trying to conjure and put power behind your words even though you’re unsure if they’ll stick.

“Deal,” Karga readily agrees with a smile, reaching his hand across the table.  You have no choice but to meet him in the middle and clasp it, unable to feel anywhere close to good about your performance here.  It was clunky and insecure and even though you just barely succeeded in making the exchange overall, you’re massively disappointed in the specifics.

But then Karga’s eyes quickly flick over your shoulder.

“Ah, Mando!”  He suddenly calls out, and your hand nearly snatches away from his while your body goes rigid.

Oh, this isn’t good, this is not good.  Well, it’s good that he’s here but it also really fucking isn’t.  You don’t even turn your head; you sit completely straight and still while the cantina falls to a hush and heavy footsteps begin to approach behind you.  You fucked up—you fucked up, you didn’t wait long enough and you feel the sharp regret instantly twist in your stomach.  He said he’d be here, why didn’t you trust him?  Your anxiety and stress compounded and spurned you to act too quickly, you made the deal a few fucking seconds before he showed up.

And, as Din eventually comes into your peripheral, taking his time leaning his rifle up against the table, you immediately realize that you should not have worried.  Recovery isn’t even a word in his vocabulary right now—he’s more intimidating than he’s ever been, more powerful and certain and dangerous while he lowers himself into the seat next to you than he’s ever felt to you before.  Everything is so quiet now that he’s here; you feel like even just swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat turns into an audible gulp.  The man sitting across from you may own this cantina and every material good under its roof, but the one sitting by your side feels like he steals the literal air from the room just by walking inside it.

Yet, in spite of the daunting presence of the Mandalorian, Karga beams and tips his glass at him.  “I believe you’ve arrived just in time for your favorite part of the conversation, friend.  The farewells.”

You stare wide-eyed down at the table as Din leans back into the booth and very slowly extends his arm behind your shoulders, saying nothing at all to him.

The testosterone is radiating from him to the point of near suffocation, you can taste the alpha in the air.  Your heart slams in your chest at the unspoken claim he just made with a subtle movement, and though you’ve never been one for masculine displays, this one weirdly feels… good right now.  You know it’s primitive and crude and you’re not a piece of meat to be fought over, but it doesn’t feel like that at all.  It’s the immediate feeling of security that serves to heat your cheeks, the fact that you’ve been a nervous mess trying to be extra brave this whole interaction and then suddenly you have the backup of an entire army contained within one single suit of armor next to you.

If you weren’t internally panicking at how badly you screwed this shit up, you’d probably be going fucking feral for him right now.

Karga says your name and your gaze snaps to his, feeling like you can’t breathe.  “My associate has collected the plaques, nothing keeps you here any longer.  It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

Still, nobody at the table moves.

After a moment, you carefully glance up and to the side at the sharp, metallic profile of his helmet.  Maker, you can’t explain it—it’s like you feel terrified but not really for yourself, if that makes sense.  You’re upset with yourself for not having enough trust in his word, absolutely, but something in Din’s demeanor tells you that he’s going to be considerably less understanding of how Karga handled this situation than the way you did.

The helmet slowly turns down to look at you, and you bite your lip while carefully placing your hand on his thigh brace under the table, letting him feel your fingers brush against the bend of his knee.

He turns back to Karga after a few seconds, still not saying a single word, until eventually Din’s arm is lifted from behind your shoulders and you feel his leather fingers gently clasp your hand, before he starts to rise from the booth and pull you along next to him.  You both stand, and he silently presses a button on his vambrace without dropping your grip, urging the kid’s shield to follow along behind him.

“Um, goodbye,” you just barely remember to tell Karga as Din begins leading you away, apparently not waiting for the polite farewells he arrived in time for.

“Wait!”  A voice calls out just before you can make your exit, and Din pauses just in time for Karga to extend that damned fifth puck out for you to grab.  Right in fucking front of him.  “Can’t forget this!”

Fuck.  Great.  Thanks.

Blood rushes to your face while you go to reach for it, taking the puck and then placing it in the open shield along with four others in a way that you hope is casual but you know isn’t.  You close the lid on it and then squeeze Din’s hand slightly, but he stays rooted to the spot for a few more seconds, having watched the entire exchange play out.  Though you obviously wouldn’t be able to read his facial expressions even if you could lift your head to look up at him, you can’t will yourself to do so right now.  You’re too disappointed in yourself and nervous—you just stand there silently as he looks back at Karga, staring at your feet and praying he doesn’t do anything brash.

After too many moments of uncertainty, you squeeze his hand again and slowly begin to pull on it.  Without needing much pressure at all, he goes where you go, and you end up being the one to lead Din out of the cantina by the hand still tangled with yours.

*** 

The walk back to the Crest lasts an eternity.

Neither one of you say anything at all to each other the entire way there, and you know he’s not mad at you yet, but you’re worried.  You feel incredibly self-critical right now and it’s really not helping that he seems even quieter and more wound up than usual.  You don’t know if it’s because he already figured out that you just handed him extra work or if it’s because whatever made him late to the cantina also altered his mood, hit a reset button and reminded him of the way he used to be, the armor he’s wearing.  Was there a confrontation, you wonder?  Is he okay?  He seems like he’s… extra Mandalorian right now, there’s not really a better way to describe it.

He doesn’t drop your hand, though.  As you pass through the markets and shanty huts lining the streets, Din holds onto you.  Shoulders tense and strides heavy, but his fingers stay tangled in yours.

Regardless, you keep your mouth shut and eventually the Crest comes into view.  The ramp drops to the ground and the three of you make your way up, and you have enough foresight to carefully drop Din’s hand and lead the baby’s shield over to the unused cot built into the hull walls, closing him in a safe quiet place to sleep and continue building up his strength again.

You turn around to see Din press another button on his vambrace.  He stays with his back to you as the ramp slowly closes, but as soon as it latches up against the hull and locks into place, he nearly whips around and suddenly he’s right in front of you, gloves cupping your face.

“What happened?”  He asks sharply, the helmet looking you up and down.  “Are you alright?  Why did you look so scared?”

You reach up to rest your hands on his, blinking up at him and not knowing what to say.  How are you going to tell him?  He’s gotta waste extra fuel and time on a bullshit quarry because of you, what are you going to say?  You don’t even know if it’s last known location is nearby; he might have to fly to some remote, desolate corner of the galaxy just for a handful of credits because you couldn’t wait a fucking hour for him.

“I, uh…  I-I’m sorry, I just…”  But it’s nearly impossible to form a coherent thought when he’s this close to you and sounding fucking sincere, genuinely concerned about you while you’re stuck worrying about how to break the bad news to him.  “Oh, stars, um…”

“Did Karga fuck with you?”  He asks in that same sharp tone when you don’t finish your thought, but you’re so absorbed in your own conflict that you barely even hear him.  “Because I can go back right now, the cantina is just—”

“Okay wait, please—” You suddenly speak up, “before I tell you, just… please keep in mind that I did save your life two days ago, so…”

“Sweet girl,” Din rumbles slowly, a subtle warning for you to hurry up and spit it out.  His fingers tighten just slightly on your cheeks, still so gentle but needing you to communicate with him right now.

Tell him, you just need to tell him.  If he gets mad, then he gets mad, but at least he’ll know at that point and you won’t just be springing it on him out of nowhere.

“I fucked up,” you breathe out, eyebrows pulling up in the middle as you tighten your own grip on his hands.  “I’m so sorry, I fucked up and you were late and I got nervous and I didn’t wait long enough and I tried to make the exchange like you asked me to but then I had to take a fifth puck and I didn’t want to but Karga threatened to short change you next time around unless I agreed to take an extra one for the lowest pay just this once and I didn’t have any bargaining power and you showed up right after I agreed to the deal and I’m so so sorry—”

You cut yourself off with your own ragged gasp, not having paused once to breathe throughout the entire thing while your expression twisted up with regret more and more the longer he allowed you to speak.

Din stands there in front of you and doesn’t move, hands still attached to your face.

“Okay,” he eventually tells you.  Stunted words, like he’s trying extra hard to find them when yours just fell out of your mouth in a complete mess.  “It’s okay.  You did… good.”

The silence is tense and you’re becoming more and more anxious the longer he takes to speak.  He’s lying for your benefit, he must be.  When he drops his hands from your face and takes a full step back, you take the gesture as symbolic and nearly launch into panic.

“Maker, I’m so sorry I didn’t wait for—”  You start to say, but Din cuts you off.

“Did he make you…”  His back suddenly goes a little straighter, voice finding a quiet edge through the modulator as his fingers subtly twitch at his sides, “…Uncomfortable?”

You pull back at the sudden change in subject and furrow your eyebrows.

“Who, Karga?”  You have to think about it.  Did he make you uncomfortable, or were you just uncomfortable already?  You might’ve just been scared because you were making it scarier than it really was, you can admit that’s a valid possibility.  “Um… no?  I don’t know, not… not really, I don’t think.”

“No?”  He asks, taking a small step forward.  “You don’t know?  Or not really… you don’t think?”

You know you can only see the blade of his visor, but something makes you feel like you’re looking right in his eyes.  You even go back and forth between where you’re pretty confident each one is, trying to read his intentions right now.  It’s like he’s purposefully trying to keep space between you even though he looks like he wants to move closer, fisting his hands at his sides when he looks like he wants to touch you.

“No, he just… lowballed me towards the end of it and I got intimidated, but I’m also not…”  Your expression narrows in concentration while you try to find the words to explain yourself, wanting to be as honest as possible with him.  “I don’t know, I’m not like you.  I’m not that strong, but I’m trying to get better.  I think he was probably just being normal.  He did offer me alcohol a bunch, but I’m pretty sure he also did that last time, so—”

“And I didn’t like it the last time he did it,” Din says quietly, taking another small step forward.

You blink up at him, completely dumb.  This is what’s bothering him?  Is he really not upset with you at all for giving him more work?  It’s like the major fuckup on your behalf just went in one side of the helmet and out the other, he barely even acknowledged it other than the role Karga played.  He said it’s okay and you did good, which are like… five of the most common words in Galactic Basic, a Wookiee could probably find a way to say them.  How are you supposed to take that?  Were you just overthinking this whole thing from the very beginning?  You know anxiety tends to be irrational by definition, but has none of your panic from the past hour been justified whatsoever?

“Why were you so late?”  You ask him, but it’s not accusatory in the slightest.  It’s… concerned, worried about his well-being without having a real reason.  He’s clearly more than fine right now, he’s like a hurricane enclosed in metal and holding still in front of you.  Too much potential energy just waiting for a reason to be released, too much tension held tight and ready to snap.

“I’m sorry.”  He quickly reaches out to grab your hand and squeeze it, before dropping it just as quickly.  Fucking lightning quick, you’ll never understand how he can be so damn quick with all that extra weight strapped to him.  “It took longer than I thought it would and she’s not really someone you can rush.”  His response, ironically, feels very rushed, like he’s trying to address the tangent but also keep things on track, but something in the answer he gives catches your direct attention.  “Did he flirt with you?”

“Who is she and what can’t be rushed?”  You blurt at the same time, not even taking a split second to think about it.

Din stops short at the blunt question, staring at you in a silence that feels like it’s vaguely taken aback.

After a few moments of that… strangeness, of the two of you realizing that you’re both feeling slightly possessive over each other for absolutely no reason whatsoever, you start to feel… warm.  In another weirdly stupid, primitive way.  You know that letting those kinds of thoughts have their day in a relationship isn’t a good thing, but you can’t explain it.  Some deep-seated, prehistoric instinct inside you just goes fucking nuts whenever he gets in either provider or protector mode.  Now you understand exactly why he wanted to get you alone after you admitted to being jealous once before.  You totally fucking get it, you’re right there with him right now.  He hasn’t said anything, but you think he feels it, too.

“She makes things,” Din finally answers you, careful with his words and somehow managing to address your question while also sidestepping it, leaving you with only the smallest bit of information to go off of.  “Did he flirt with you?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly.  “Maybe.  He could’ve just been trying to be friendly.  What did she make for you?”

“She made it for you,” he responds, again not really answering the question but continuing to juggle two separate conversations for your benefit.  “Did he scare you?”

“For me?”  You ask, eyebrows shooting upwards.  Provider, that stupid cavewoman DNA whispers to your lower body, making your voice go a little breathless.  “You asked her to make something for me?”

“Did he scare you?”  Din repeats sternly, grabbing your hand and giving it a firm squeeze.  “Because I can go back, I swear—”

Protector, it whispers this time, and your knees nearly buckle.

“Everything is scary when I don’t know where you are,” you admit to him, knowing it’s the truth regardless of how self-deprecating it sounds.  The only times you’ve ever truly been brave was because of him or the kid.  Stabbing a Corellian and then immediately flying the Crest out to him afterwards, walking through a pitch black forest believing a dangerous criminal was hiding in it, dragging a dead body through snow and shoving it into carbonite, standing up for yourself and pushing a deal through when odds were stacked against you.  Though it’s nothing to him, it’s nothing, it’s leaps for you.  You’re slowly learning to find a backbone, and he’s the one inspiring it.

Din holds there for a moment, unmoving with his hand still clutching yours.  You can’t get a read on him but you know how you feel right now.  Achy.  Hot.  Needy.  Wanting him to come closer.

“Will you do something for me?”  He asks you after a prolonged silence.  His voice is quiet, but… incredibly restrained.  Controlled chaos—his body is rigid and he’s flexing muscles that aren’t necessary for just standing, feeling like a sprinter holding still on the starting blocks.

“Of course,” you breathe out.

Din lets go of your hand and tilts his helmet over at the corner of the hull behind you.  “Go turn around and face that wall.”

You freeze, immediately recognizing the undertone in his voice.  Heat ladles deep into the pit of your tummy, sends warmth pooling downwards.  He wants to do this here?  Right now?

“We’re—” you look around the enclosed hull, “Mando, we’re not in hyperspace, we haven’t even left the surface yet…”

He looks around too, taking a second to blankly take in his stagnant surroundings like he had absolutely fucking no idea, before turning back to you and not saying a word.  Maker, everything below your waist is already stirring, twisting hot and deep inside, but you’re trying to be the voice of reason for a second.

“What if somebody hears us?”  You whisper, and Din cocks his head to the other side.

“I can help you stay quiet,” he murmurs, and… fuck.  You don’t know what it means, but you immediately imagine his hand held tight over your mouth while he takes some of this stress out on you and you already feel yourself wilting at the thought.  Okay.

“Okay,” you breathe without needing anything else at all, before spinning around and standing exactly where he told you to.  It’s just a corner near the back of the hull, nothing else here to look at besides two metal panels meeting at a right angle, but that’s admittedly what makes your heart start beating quicker.  You can’t see him come up behind you but you can feel it.  Slow, measured, but so restrained.

But then he stops almost immediately, before the back of your shirt is suddenly being yanked upwards and you remember at the very last second.

Din carefully grips his blaster and then eases it out of your waistband, the metal sliding warm along your skin from pressing against it for so long.  You never told him you took it with you, and he’s so fucking quiet behind you.  You have no idea how he’s reacting to that piece of information you originally didn’t think twice about.

“Do you like carrying my gun around?”  Din’s voice murmurs soft through the modulator to you, but then the blaster is tossed uselessly to the side, skittering loudly across the floor of the hull.

“Yes,” you reply, beginning to shyly turn your head back to look at him, hoping to gauge his response.

“Don’t turn around,” he quickly interrupts you, pushing your shoulder back into position and keeping you facing the corner.  You blink at the metal walls in a bit of a daze but follow instructions regardless, feeling your heart pound at the sudden display of dominance from him.  He has a very valid reason for it and you don’t realize what it is until a few seconds later, but even if he didn’t and he was just telling you what to do for the fun of it… you’d still like it.

But then his helmet is carefully being lowered over your head and you shudder as your vision is replaced with a familiar black abyss.  Fuck, his helmet, why does he like it so much when you wear this?  Admittedly, you don’t have much time to contemplate—as soon as it’s fitted and secure, he spins you around and you have to just do your best to maintain your balance, not having any visual to help.

“Can you hear me?”  Din asks, and your clothes start to be ripped off of you.  Your shoulders tip sideways with how quick he is about it, feeling him pull the fabric off and hearing the soft sound it makes landing on the floor.

“Yes,” you tell him, but he doesn’t respond, continuing to strip you completely naked in the hull.  Once your upper body is bare and he’s yanking your pants and underwear down your legs, you try saying it again as you step out of them, louder for him this time.

“I can’t hear you,” his voice grunts after a moment.  You know he’s in front of you but you can’t really tell where, now that he’s not touching you.  “Scream.”

You take a second, not having hard evidence anymore but still very well aware that you’re parked close to a marketplace on Nevarro and multiple people are nearby while you’re wearing his helmet.  This is dangerous for him, and not sure if you should, but then an arm is wrapping around your back and a large leather palm rests directly over your chest.  Din repeats his last word very slowly and clearly for you, waiting to feel it under his hands.

Your sternum lifts while it rises with your deep breath and then collapses as you diligently yell as loud as you can into the helmet, feeling like you might deafen yourself with the trapped sound.

“Good,” he growls, suddenly spinning you around and pushing you back into the metal paneling.  “I can’t hear you, be as loud as you need.  Hit me or something, put up a fight if you want me to stop, alright?”

Arousal rockets through you and you let out a moan already, taking advantage of the noise suppression and beyond turned on at this point.  You feel like you’re buzzing with it, lit up with excitement and wondering with bated breath what he’s planning to do to you.

“Alright?”  Comes his voice from behind you once more, and you quickly jerk the heavy helmet in a nod for him.  You can put up a fight and you know he’ll stop, you don’t have any problem with that and the fact that he specifically made sure to wait until he knew you understood him makes you start to pant inside the hollow beskar.

But then you feel him flick a small switch at the base of the helmet and then everything abruptly cuts out and goes dead silent.

Nothing.  Nothing.  You’re standing in a pitch black room where no other sound exists besides your own labored breathing.  Just like the waterfall on Naboo, but you can’t speak this time.  Temporarily making you blind, deaf, and putting a proverbial gag over your mouth all with one powerful piece of armor.

You shudder and he kicks your legs apart before you can do much else, yanking your hips back while you just try your best to cling to the wall for stability.  You don’t know what he’s going to do, you’re completely isolated in here and the only way you can even tell he dropped to his knees is the hot glide of his tongue through your pussy from behind.

Oh fuck—you arch into position as best you can while hands wrap around your ankles to pull them apart, trying to make the angle better.  His tongue licks softly over your clit and each time is like an electric shock jolting through your body, making you twitch back and up for him, stretching and begging him to do it again.  You can’t see anything right now so your mind readily imagines the visuals instead, providing you with a third party view.  Din, fully clothed and face shielded by your thighs, eating you out from behind while you brace yourself against the wall, completely naked and at his mercy, head tilted down from the weight of his helmet and living for the moments he decides to drag his tongue across your clit.

Without warning, a sudden burst of sensation ripples along your backside and causes you to lift the beskar in surprise, but without being able to hear anything, it takes you a second to figure out that he just smacked your ass.  The realization comes more or less at the exact time he decides to flatten his tongue and follow the curve of you back and up.

You gasp into the pitch black and there’s a moment where you just hold utterly still for him, experiencing and processing the sensation for the very first time.  His mouth is soft and warm as he tastes you here, his fingers digging into the swell of your cheeks to spread you open.  You’re glad your face is hidden so he can’t see the shock in your expression, the way your mouth drops and your eyes close as you let him explore you this way.

His gloved hands leave you for just a moment while he continues gliding his tongue against you, along every single bit of skin he can reach, and then you feel a bare hand reach up between your legs and begin to rub slow circles around your clit.  His other arm pushes against your lower back and you’re forced into the corner even more, your naked breasts pressing hard against cool metal and feeling his hot mouth and strong fingers work you closer to the edge from behind.

You’re panting into the helmet, your hips arching back to feel that stimulation on your clit better, and as his fingers move over it slow and strong, you feel a soft vibration against your skin and you realize he’s moaning into you.  The knowledge sparks a different kind of heat through you and makes you suddenly go still and tense right here.  If he stays just like this for even just a few more seconds, you’re going to cum.

“Din, I’m gonna cum,” your voice warbles inside the enclosed steel—just as his touch decides to abandon your body.  You groan loudly in distress, completely alone without his hands or mouth on you anymore, but all he likely hears is the silence of the hull and the way your palm smacks against the wall with it.  You were so close, everything feels like it’s pulled up so tight and painful and it hurts—

A hand clutches your hip and then a thick cock is suddenly pushing up against your soaking wet entrance, going to alleviate that twisting discomfort.  Your eyes roll back and your whole body goes limp as he slowly eases forward and breaks you open, fitting himself deep inside where you love to feel him most.  Your hands claw down the walls with a swell of bliss as he pulls out and then starts thrusting—and fuck, you love this.  You love the way he’s trapping you up against the corner and making you see stars at the same time, the way he’s supporting your weight but crushing down into you, too.  It makes you go boneless and want to riot simultaneously, groaning loud into the quiet abyss as he gives you what you both desperately needed.

One of his hands sinks down between your legs to play with your clit again, while a slick finger presses up against your ass and you gasp as he slowly penetrates you there, too.  Din’s hips work steady and powerful behind you, pushing you into the wall with every desperate thrust, using the arm shoved between your legs to support you as well as stimulate, and you just feel yourself move into a different place.  You don’t have a name for it but it feels like hyperspace.  Silence so loud it feels suppressing, faster than anything light can touch, nowhere and everywhere, hurtling towards something you can’t see but know lies in the distance.  You can tell he’s still fucking the tension out of his body, you can feel him working another wet finger inside you and stretching the virgin muscles back there, but every sensation begins to slowly blur together in a wicked uprising of ecstasy.

You don’t know where you are anymore, just that his fingers keep rubbing your clit and you think he's trying to ease a third into you when your destination abruptly arrives.

You nearly collapse when you cum, contracting so hard around his cock and fingers that you cry out unexpectedly—and because of the helmet, you think it’s just as unexpected for him.  He stops moving—everything stops moving besides you.  Your hips stutter backwards into his stationary body, dragging your clit back and forth against the tips of his unmoving fingers and fucking him as best you can.  It shatters white hot and goes straight through to your soul, wringing pleasure and wetness between your legs in waves.

Your knees are knocking against each other when Din pulls out, his cock still deliciously hard and now soaking wet with your cum, and then they just suddenly decide to give up without warning.  You don’t fall necessarily, but you do slowly slide down the wall like a slug and Din follows you to the floor instead of holding you up any longer.  His sternum moves quick and heavy against your back as he breathes and then suddenly the same switch at the base of his helmet is flicked, and sound bursts into existence all at once.

He’s panting.  Harsh breaths behind you that match the rapid pace of his chest, and the ambient noise of the rest of the hull.

“Can you hear me?”  He gasps, sounding fucking wrecked, and you nod the helmet against the wall while gravity and exhaustion and his beskar chestplate squishes you into it.  “P-Put up a fight if you want me t-to stop, p-please—” he rasps out, almost the entire thing air and so close to cumming, and then his knees lift just slightly and the blunt head of his cock presses against your other entrance.

And, if you wanted, you absolutely could.  He’s got you boxed into the corner but he’s not constricting your movements, he’s given you every ability to struggle.  You could easily throw an elbow back against his side, push against the wall to shove him away, smack at his arms or even just flail against his body in panic—you could do one or all of those things to signal him to stop and you know he’d do it immediately, he’s asking you to.  You could struggle.  If you wanted.

Instead, you just grab hold of the beskar strapped to his thigh and drop the helmet to your chest, nearly vibrating with the thrill and preparing yourself for it.  You know he’s gotta be inches away from orgasm, you know from the tone of his voice that he’s right there on the edge and it’s not like it’s going to last a long time.  Thanks to him, you also feel like you’re just as slick and wet back there as you are between your legs, stretched open by his fingers while you came all over him.  You want nothing more than to give this to him, to let him be the only person in the universe that knows how you feel this way.

When you pointedly do not put up a fight and even go so far as to arch your lower back for him in presentation, Din curses and his fingers begin jerking back and forth over your sensitive clit once more.  It might normally be too much for you, but your body is sparking with lust and quickly acclimates to the stimulation, learning to burn and ache for it, too.  Fuck, it feels so good, you tense and melt into it at the same time, letting him ease you back up to that peak once more.

He pushes up against the tight ring of skin and you can’t fucking explain it—his fingers keep rubbing your clit and he’s slowly pushing into your ass and—

“I—I think I’m—” you suddenly lift the helmet to gasp out in surprise, forgetting he can’t hear you, “ngh—D-Din, I think I’m gonna c—”

He’s just barely able to breach the tight entrance and fit the head inside before he freezes—and even though everything happens consecutively, it’s all so rapid that it feels simultaneous.

Your hips could go forward, but they don’t.  Your body decides to send you backwards into him, pushing him inside nearly halfway all at once as your muscles lock down and just fucking strangle his cock.  Your piercing scream gets trapped in the silence of his helmet as you cum once more—painfully, madly and with every fucking part of you for him.  There’s maybe one or two mind shattering pulses of ecstasy before the rest of your body catches up and starts convulsing, and by then Din is already gasping and fumbling behind you, suddenly realizing what’s happening without hearing the sound of your ragged warnings and then ripping himself away just in time.

He punches out your name when he cums like you just fucking snapped him in half—his body hunches and the beskar digs hard into your back as warmth starts splattering along your skin.  You crumple while he shoves his hips up against your spine, riding and working the orgasm out of himself while yours just fucking obliterates you.  You think you whine his name—or a curse word or something, but it gets strained and your lungs lose air every time his powerful armored body humps you into the wall of his ship.

Finally he eases up and you just lay there and listen to the ringing in your ears.  Blissfully empty, still pulsing from cumming so hard and feeling like your bones just decided to stop existing and the rest of you was okay with it since you were already on the floor anyways.  You feel him shudder and twitch behind you, letting go of that last bit of tension until he too allows gravity to slouch his heavy torso over onto you.

You both stay like that for a while, until your eyes close and your everything below your waist goes numb.  Eventually you feel him shift and your head bobbles as the helmet is slowly removed, but a large palm cradles your chin to stop your face from slamming into the wall in exhaustion once it’s off.  You just continue to melt into the paneling like you’re nothing more than goo of a human being while he trades it back to its rightful place on his shoulders and tucks his cock back into his pants, before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you both up.  The floor and metal walls, once feeling like you and them were one, suddenly decide to disappear entirely as you’re hauled up into Din’s powerful arms.

He slowly carries your naked, fucked senseless body over to the fresher, and you squint your eyes open over his shoulder to see… he’s still got his rifle slung around his back while his cum is dripping down yours.  Not a single thing on him is out of place and you’re, well… a mess is a word that works.  Limp and doll-like, carried like your weight is practically nothing to him after years of having the densest armor known to the galaxy strapped to his body.

Setting you down is a mess, too.  At some point you think he just gives up and decides to return you to your humble floor abode with a patience and care unexpected from someone who just defiled you so thoroughly.  You hear the fresher door open and the faucet squeak, before he turns back around and crouches to your level.

“Stay here,” Din tells you lowly, his modulated voice coming gentle and warm through the sounds of water raining down against metal.  You don’t feel his touch directly, but your hair moves away from your face.  “I’ll be right back, okay—just stay here.”

Can do.  Easy.  He waits until you murmur a soft mhm to him before he leaves the tiny compartment, and then you soon hear his heavy footsteps ascending the ladder to the cockpit.

***

You don’t think you fall asleep, but the powering up of the Crest’s thrusters make you realize your eyes were closed.  Opening them barely qualifies as a squint though; you look around to see steam slowly filling the fresher, the water already running hot and welcoming in the small room.

You know you need to shower but you’re so fucking exhausted, you feel like you can’t even move your body.  You also know you can just do the same exact thing in there as you’re doing in here, you just need to muster up the energy necessary to get inside it and then fall back asleep.  He set you down in the small little space outside the shower door and then got everything set up for you, you can at least stand up and take a few steps.

Unfortunately, you might pick just about the worst time possible to plant your hands on the ground and work to struggle upright on all fours like a newborn animal.  The steady rise through Nevarro’s atmosphere pushes gravity down harder than you’re expecting—is he trying to fly quickly or are you just that dead-limbed?—and then of course, by the time you do manage to fight it and successfully get on two wobbly legs to hold yourself up, the subtle shift of the hyperdrive kicking in nearly knocks you back down again.  You stumble and grab the walls, bracing yourself against them and looking down at your knees in exasperation.  Come on, work.  Move forward.  Come on.

You’re glad he’s not here to witness this monstrosity, honestly.  Just opening the door and taking a few steps into the fresher is a feat—while you’re not in any pain and he didn’t leave any marks on you, you just feel… steamrolled.  Ran over by a truck.  Only having the strength to keep your feet beneath you as you finally move under the water and close the door behind you.

Oh, but this is wonderful.  This was such a good idea, he’s so fucking smart.  The shower falls warm and lovely against your body, wetting your hair and immediately heating you down to your bones.  You don’t move really at all—you kinda just stand there and slouch, closing your eyes against the spray and slowly breathing the mist into your lungs.  It feels so nice—not really restorative even though you like that word, it would imply the water provides you with any energy whatsoever.  It just feels like a comfort, a relief and sedative for your already wildly fatigued body.

You haven’t been in here for more than a minute or two when knuckles tap gently against the metal walls of the fresher, before the natural bass of Din’s unmodulated voice murmurs from somewhere beyond it.  “Hey.  Keep your eyes closed.”

How did he know?  You figured you’d be way ahead of him.  You’re standing but slumped over, wanting nothing more than to just say fuck gravity and pass out right here.  The walls are too cold to lean against now that you’re all toasty from the heat and steam, so you’re just unconsciously swaying on your feet, trying to balance the precedence of sleeping versus not falling over.  You don’t even comprehend the sudden flip of the light switch overhead beyond the fact that it makes it easier to snooze without being so bright behind your eyelids.

The door eventually opens at the very same time you realize you never answered him, but you just commit to the silence at this point.  It’s easy, you like it.  Soon you feel warm hands touch your shoulders, slowly spinning you around while you follow and hang your head, your neck not wanting to support it any longer, and then suddenly a bare chest is pressing up against you and powerful arms are wrapping around your body, and you can just lean all of your weight into him while your head rests right here on his shoulder.

He holds you without moving for a long time, keeping you just like this—your ear pressed against his skin while water rains hot and comfortable down your back.  Knowing you’re facing one of the walls, you crack your heavy lids just the slightest bit and finally notice the tiny compartment is dim and shrouded—the only light source is a single one coming from somewhere in the hull beyond the partially closed doorway.  It’s dark and quiet and you can barely see anything besides the metallic fresher walls and unfocused droplets chasing each other down Din’s naked skin.  Just you and him, flowing water with a sheet metal backdrop.

You think you spend an eternity like that and yet you still find yourself wanting another when he finally shifts, reaching over you to grab a bar of his generic soap but making sure to use the arm whose shoulder you’re not currently resting against.

It glides slow and hypnotic down your back, dragging up over your sides and then back down the curve of your spine.  He’s so sturdy and he doesn’t say a word while he does it, lathering it along your body and rubbing it into your skin.  His bar of soap, not yours.  They started out almost the same since you picked them up at the same vendor, but there’s just a slightly bolder and sharper scent to his that you recognize.  How the bar is far larger than yours because of how often he’s gone away.

Your eyes droop and you feel the water trail over your lips, dripping down your chin and pooling the dip of his collarbone.  The only other time you two shared this fresher was terrifying and he’s rewriting the memories right now, whether consciously or not.  Hot water, not freezing cold.  Standing upright and supporting you.  Heart beating strong under your ear, taking care of you this time until you can care for yourself.

You… you just worry so much more now, it’s becoming an issue.  You didn’t realize how much until you nearly lost him, and you know in your heart that he’s just going to go away again.  Throw himself into more danger, tempt death as always, risk his life for mere credits while all you can provide in return is this.  Skin to skin contact.  Someone to hold.  Someone who knows him, who knows the way he struggles between reaching out for a softness that life has always denied him and clinging to what is rough and familiar.  Someone to remind him that there’s still gentle and forgiving things in this galaxy that won’t disappear when he’s gone, and that he can always come home to them, as long as he can manage to find his way back.

Something sad tugs hard at your chest.  You want to tell him not to leave.  Again, again—you want nothing more than to beg him to stay.  You don’t have anything better to offer instead; if he asked you how it would work, how you imagine your lives would go if he wasn’t hunting quarry on a constant timetable, you’d be hard-pressed.  You don’t know.  But you know what you want to say, because it’s two words you shouldn’t say but always find yourself needing to say regardless.  

Don’t go.

But, instead of two words, you give him three.

Instead of asking him not to leave you again… in the haze and comfort of his arms, you think you just tell him that you love him.

And… you also don’t think the water falling down on the two of you is loud enough to cover it up this time.

It’s not ideal, you know.  You know.  From his point of view, he just got finished releasing all sorts of pent up tension on you, overwhelming your body with the strength and power of his in a way that normal people wouldn’t take as an expression of affection.  But you know him.  You know that he finds it much easier to express the things he feels in a physical way, which is why there’s a bar of soap against your back right now instead of his voice in your ear, telling you all the things you’ve always wanted to hear from him in return.  You know that sex is how this all began and it’s likely just the closest link between roughness and sweetness that he can really put his hands on, something that can fit him equally as well as it fits you.  Love is different, it’s thrilling and scary.  Even to someone like him, who lives everyday of his life surrounded by thrilling and scary things, who’s seen more bloodshed and suffering and pain than you can ever even imagine, you know that it’s scary.

Din doesn’t say anything back to your confession, and truthfully, not a single part of you was expecting him to.  It wasn’t said so he could say it back.  It just is.  Some things don’t need explanations, they just are.  You’re okay with that.

But, you eventually come to realize that he always waits until you’re just on the very edges of sleep, holding out until your blurry vision and fading consciousness can trick you into thinking you only imagined it.  You won’t ever figure out if it’s purposeful or if he just needs that long to find what he wants to say.

Another soft, lilting sentence in a language you wouldn’t be able to translate, even if you could pick out a single word.  It sounds so beautiful though, regardless of how mysterious and far away its meaning feels.  There’s something hidden underneath.  You ache to know what it is.

But you’re so tired.  You just whine softly against his shoulder, not being able to transform the thoughts into sentences anymore but hoping he understands regardless.  He can’t just resort to bearing his soul in Mando’a all the time now, especially when you’re always on the verge of sleep when he chooses to do so.

But at some point, his arms subtly tighten around you and the pressure is one of the only things that’s keeping you awake anymore.

“I won’t ever ask you to,” he says to you, the quietness of his baritone getting lost in the gentle spray and your looming slumber.  “I’m…  not allowed to ask.  I can’t.”

Your expression twitches just the slightest bit against his shoulder in confusion, wondering distantly what word or sentence you must’ve missed from before that would make him make sense.  Was that a translation?  Or a continuation?

But then your wet hair is slowly moved away from your nape and his head tilts down, face pressing into your neck and voice lowering until it’s nothing more than a breath against your skin, nothing more than a confession that he couldn’t ever say out loud with his full chest.  It’s a secret he only ever wants you to know, a truth he’s choosing to admit to even though you could ruin him with it.  You have no idea how much, you won’t know for a long time just how much power he’s giving you by telling you this one very simple thing.

“But whenever you want to look,” Din finally whispers, the only version of I love you too that a Mandalorian knows.  “You can.”

[ficsforeren]

more mafia eren headcanons pls 🤲

MORE??????? okay if you insist

So uhh this will be a continuation for this scene I wrote earlier

NSFW - DON'T READ IF YOU'RE BELOW 18

Eren tosses your knife to the side, making a clattering sound as it meets the floor. "Any other tricks of yours I should be aware of?" His voice is soothing in your ear but the gun he points to your neck is anything but.

You struggle to break free. "Get your hands off me."

"Fine," he huffs, drawing back from you. "I guess I'll just have to investigate it myself."

He pushes you forward until you're pressed flat against the wall, his gun pointing at the spot between your shoulder blades. "Arms above your head, Sweetheart," he says but his tone is merciless. "One wrong move and I'll shoot a hole through your chest."

Your breathing rags, raising both hands as he asked you to. "Good girl," he coos and it makes you sick. You can feel his hand sliding down your body, following the curve of your ass before it slips behind the high slit of your red maxi dress. He reaches between your legs, making you jolt when his fingers glide over your lingerie. "Such a cute reaction," he chuckles but he presses the point of his gun harder on your skin. "You won't be needing this." Eren rips your lingerie with one hand, casting it aside.

You're scared to your bones. Terrified. "Please stop."

He drags his hand to the front of your stomach, pulling you closer until you can feel his zipper grazing against your behind. "And what if I don't?"

But he stops once he feels you shuddering in fear. He turns you around and lifts your face by pushing his gun to your chin. His eyes find your glassy ones and even when you're glaring with so much hatred in your eyes, you're trying your best not to cry. Even if it means that you have to bite your lip until it bleeds. He smiles, reaching out a hand and you close your eyes in reflex but what he does is frames your cheek gently. "As much as I like seeing my women cry in bed," he says, "I'm not a rapist."

You thought he was going to murder you instead so when he draws his gun away and tucks it back into the pocket of his suit, you nearly weep in relief. "It's been fun, Sweetheart," he bids his goodbye as you slide down to the floor, knees trembling. "I look forward to seeing you again." And he shuts the bathroom door behind him.

He could've killed you, but he didn't. He should've been, knowing you were out there to kill him, but he didn't. And now you owe him your life.

Sick of having that thought for days, you decide to visit him again.

Eren is lying down on a bed of an overly-priced suite with his black suit discarded, his gun lying on the floor and his white shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his chest when you slip through his door.

"Your lady won't be coming back," you tell him, dressed in a red trench coat that perfectly hugs your body. Eren props himself up with his elbows on the bed, his smirk naturally finds its way to his face. His gun is close enough for him to reach. He just decides not to.

Even in the dimness of the room, you can still see the bulge that's concealed by the silk fabric of his pants. There are lipstick stains on his shirt, and some on the side of his neck.

“Well, that’s unfortunate," he says, not surprised in the slightest. "I'd spent a good amount of money to rent her for the night. Heterochromatic eyes. Very rare.”

"You've got a peculiar taste in women."

“Yeah, looks better on camera.” He shifts his weight, sitting on the edge of the bed. His hair is no longer tied, cascading to his shoulders and framing his cheekbones perfectly. “How many of my guards did you take down to get in here?”

“Three. You know, you should’ve considered hiring bodyguards that are stronger than you.”

“Yeah, you couldn’t even lift a finger against me." He chuckles at the memory. "Well I used to have Levi, but he quits for good.” He takes a cigarette from the pocket of his suit. “Did you kill them?”

“No. I didn’t want to leave dead bodies in such a nice hotel like this.”

“How very thoughtful of you.” He tucks the cigar between his teeth, lighting it up.

“I wouldn’t mind if it was yours, though," you add. "If anyone should die tonight, it should be you.”

“But you can’t kill me." His eyes twinkle mischievously as he leans back and takes a long drag. "So, what are you planning to do?”

"Why didn't you kill me?"

"'Cause you're cute." He brings his cigar to his lips, smirking as he continues, "And I kinda like your face. Wouldn't hate to see it again."

"You should've killed me. Now I feel like I owe you my life."

"You do." He flicks the ashes off. "So, I'm guessing you're here to repay me?" You stay mute but your eyes tell him the answer he wants to hear. "What do you have to offer?"

"Let me join your little boyband. I can be useful to you."

He snorts. "You couldn't even put up a fight against me, why would I want you?"

Your jaw clenches. "Then what do you want me to do?"

Something flickers in his eyes at your choice of words. He takes another drag, standing up and makes his way to the balcony. "Come. The moon looks beautiful tonight." You hesitate for a few seconds before you follow his trail.

Eren leans his back against the railing, throwing his head back as he lets the wind caresses his face. He looks... beautiful, as if he didn't belong to that kind of world. His eyelashes are long, probably longer than yours and those lips—

"Strip."

"What?"

"Strip for me," he repeats, dragging his cigar closer to his lips. "Here. Now." You keep your body still, your glare menacing, though your heart starts to thrash wildly inside your chest. "You said you wanted to repay me, right?"

“I thought you said you weren’t a rapist.”

“I’m not." He exhales clouds of smoke into the air. "I’m not forcing you, am I? I’m only asking you. Whether you do it or not is up to you.”

You can't believe you just called him beautiful. He's fucking sick.

“And you also owe me an escort," he grins lightly as he tosses the rest of his cigarette away, "You’re not heterochromatic but you do have pretty eyes.”

You feel your breathing stutter as he makes his way to you. “You want me to sleep with you?”

“No." In a blink of an eye, Eren has his hand on the front of your throat, pushing you against the glassy window until you're standing on your tiptoes. Your hands are clutching tightly against his wrist, nails scratching his skin to push him away but he only smiles that fucking innocent smile of his that always seems out of place. But when he speaks, another persona takes over.

"I want to fuck you," he says the words through gritted teeth, almost like he's growling. You can feel his breath falling on your lips, can sense the aftertaste of the cigarette he just took. “I want to fuck you raw until you cry. I want to fuck you until you can’t say anything, can't think about anything but my cock inside you. I want to fuck you until you beg me to stop and when you do, I'm gonna fuck you even harder."

You're choking, your lungs starting to catch on fire. "C-can't... breathe..."

And instead of letting you go, he smashes his lips against yours, and he's so rough with his teeth and tongue that you won't be surprised if yours start to bleed. You gasp against his mouth, desperate for air and only after he's satisfied, does he let go.

Retracting his hand, Eren brings back his juvenile smile to his face, hand gently frames your cheek as he whispers in your ear. “But again," his lips brush against your skin. "It’s all up to you, Sweetheart.”