#and also that it's not anyone else's business HOWEVER it does matter on some level bc that 'discourse' actively hurts queer people

[sureuncertainty]

getting to the point where i've gotten a bit wary of those posts along the lines of 'this pride month let's stop focusing on meaningless discourse and talk about actual real problems facing the queer community' because it's not always obvious whether they mean 'meaningless discourse' as in 'don't worry about other people's labels and let queer people live' or is it 'this discourse is fake and stupid and meaningless and doesn't matter at all'?

it's like the way people will reduce acephobia to "discourse", this attitude of trivializing actual bigotry and acting like it's not a big deal or a real problem in queer spaces when it very much is!

[theedoctorb]

Dungeons & Dragons Content Creators Summit and Being a Corporate "Shill"

I was invited to attend the Dungeon & Dragons (D&D) Creator Summit in early April, and I happily accepted. I initially wasn’t going to publicly say anything about attending because I didn’t see any need. However, in the last week, numerous conversations on various internet platforms have both tacitly and overtly accused anyone in attendance of being a Wizards of the Coast (WotC) “shill” or “clout chaser” who will agree with anything WotC says because they:

Paid for attendees’ travel.

Included a per diem to cover meals and incidentals while traveling.

Have given past promotional materials to many of the people in attendance.

May offer us further financial opportunities in exchange for refusing to challenge currently proposed ideas and materials.  

This is not only reductive, but further divides a community still reeling in the wake of the recent uproar over the leaked, proposed Open Gaming License (OGL) revisions which resulted in targeted harassment of individual studio employees and content creators, especially those of marginalized identities, despite the fact that most of those who were harassed had no authority over the business decisions which caused the initial uproar.

What is a Summit?

Summits are opportunities to have open dialogues and share opinions towards a common goal. They’re common in academia and politics. Good summits are about synthesizing new ideas and challenging old ones. They’re often heavily structured and moderated with specific strategic goals, and the good ones deliberately invite people with vastly different perspectives on a topic.

To put it mildly, summits aren’t something to organize if you want people to pat you on the head and tell you that you’re doing just great! They’re often extremely heated because people passionately and vehemently advocate for their perspectives and priorities which may be in direct opposition to others’.  

What’s different about this summit is that it ostensibly possesses a level of transparency which I haven’t experienced before. Summits are often closed-door conversations, so that the people in attendance can speak candidly about topics or strategies currently in the planning stages. 

My invitation email specifically stated that the goals of the D&D Content Creator Summit are:

To gather feedback on how the D&D team can improve the experience of making D&D content.

To gather feedback on upcoming products such as the D&D Rules Update and D&D VTT.

For content creators to have more opportunities to interact with D&D staff in-person.

The email invitation specifically stated that this summit is based on consistent feedback WotC has gathered since PAX Unplugged 2022, and that this is a “first step.” Additionally, no one in attendance will be expected to create any content regarding the summit, WotC will not be taking any footage, photos, or recordings of the summit for any purpose, and any information shared with attendees may be shared with the community. That last part is notable, because it means that people in attendance – all of whom have platforms of varying sizes – can frankly offer feedback now and in the future on what is discussed, as well as how D&D incorporates the feedback.

Who is Going? Why Were They Invited?

I don’t fully know who is going.  I also don’t know why certain people were invited and others weren’t. No one I know of – outside the organizers and those who helped them – does, and anyone else is likely acting on various degrees of speculation. I strongly suspect questions about inclusion and exclusion criteria will be some of the first things asked at the summit. I’m especially curious about this criteria, given that content creation isn’t my primary job – consultation and education on mental health are, though that role sometimes extends to matters of content creation.  

Some creators announced their attendance publicly out of excitement at being included or with the intent of gathering questions from their communities. Some creators kept their attendance privately known only among industry members and friends. Of those I know who have kept their attendance private, the fear of being the target of harassment is a commonly cited reason, but an even more common reason was a desire to attend and push for change. 

Many of the people I know who plan on attending are staunch advocates for various topics such as inclusion, accessibility, and representation of marginalized individuals in D&D and other tabletop roleplaying games (TTRPGs). Some of them have directly consulted with WotC before and offered frank feedback as part of their consultant role. Other attendees built their platforms on advocacy and haven’t been shy about calling out perceived missteps. In short, they’re not people who are afraid to voice their opinions.

It’s worth noting that – of the attendees I know – nearly every single one is marginalized in one or multiple ways, whether it’s ethnicity, gender identity, orientation, neurotype, medical/disability status, or a variety of other identities. Nevertheless, who is and who isn’t in attendance is absolutely worth noting, once we have all the facts. Who has a seat at the table is always poignant and important feedback.  

Isn’t Your Objectivity Compromised by Receiving Compensation for Attendance? Coercive Rewards and Role Clarity

Some of the online discourse supposes that those of us in attendance will kowtow to WotC’s efforts because they paid for travel, offered a per diem, and many of us have received promotional materials in the past on which we’ve built content. Is that true? Is our objectivity compromised? Probably not, and here’s why. In the psychology field, there are two concepts we talk about frequently: coercive rewards and role clarity. Coercive rewards are often discussed in terms of psychology research. Participants in research are generally compensated in some way for their participation, but the compensation cannot be so great as to compel or coerce them into saying yes when they might otherwise refuse. To give some perspective on the level of compensation, I live in the same geographical region as WotC headquarters, so travel costs aren’t covered for me. I am still receiving a per diem for food and incidentals during the summit. However, I’m taking two days away from both my day job and my private practice. While I can reschedule some of my clients, I won’t be able to reschedule all of them, so I’m going to end up losing money by attending, and I’ll have to make up other work at my day job. To put it bluntly, per diem and travel costs (if I were traveling), and occasional promotional material are not enough to coerce an endorsement from me, especially if I think something is actively harmful and the goal of the summit is to offer critical feedback. 

Instead, my attendance is driven by my love of the D&D community, what it’s meant to me, and my desire to help improve that community and help it thrive by bringing as many people to the table as possible. Most of the people I know planning to attend are in similar situations and of similar mindsets – taking time off from work and essentially losing money because the goals of this summit are important to them. The travel compensation and per diem simply help to minimize losses for some people.

One summit attendee I spoke with noted that there is also an equity issue at play. Without offering compensation for travel and a per diem, it limits attendance to those of a certain socioeconomic level. That negates the possibility of wider community feedback. Also, how many memes and Twitter threads exist about creators being “paid” in exposure? Offering compensation hints to me that WotC takes this feedback seriously and is willing to treat everyone in attendance like a professional.  

Beyond pure dollars and cents, many of the summit attendees are either immunocompromised or have family members who are. They are literally taking health risks to attend because they believe in the purpose of this summit and improving the D&D community as a whole. If that’s not a sign of how dedicated some of the attendees are to improving the community, then I don’t know what is. Now let’s talk about role clarity. There are a lot of different jobs in psychology, just like there are in games and content creation. In psychology, a person might be a therapist, evaluator, expert witness, consultant, teacher, researcher, or any number of other roles. To perform any of these roles effectively, they must be crystal clear on what that role entails and what is outside its scope. It’s the same thing here with the summit. Based on the invitation email, it seems that the role is similar to one of a consultant – to critically evaluate what is presented and offer feedback based on one’s experience and expertise. Thankfully, this is a role in which many of the attendees I know have a wealth of experience.

Some readers might retort with, “But you might get other jobs by being there!” Yes. Yes, we might. This is a professional invitation with an expected, professional role, and if we perform that role well, we might get future professional opportunities. That’s what should happen when one performs their job well, and it should be true regardless of the industry and context. However, the reality is that those jobs are both hypothetical and not likely to happen overnight. It's more likely that these jobs would be one-off consultations, collaborations, or the like. 

While jobs like that are appreciated and welcome, they are not steady employment. Summits are not generally real-life versions of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory whereby the one attendee who is most skilled and virtuous will be given control of WotC. Anyone who plans on attending with the fantasy that they will be instantly rewarded with their dream job is probably going to be disappointed.    

Is This Summit Solely to Do Public Relations Damage Control?

Ignoring the fact that a lot of the people attending this summit are generous with their opinions, for good or ill, some in the community have asserted that the D&D Content Creator Summit is simply WotC’s attempt to repair damage to the D&D brand in the wake of the bad business decisions during the recent OGL controversy. Events like this summit take a long time to organize, so I actually believe the email I received when they said that this is based on feedback they’ve received from as far back as late November/early December 2022.

At the same time, WotC would be foolish to avoid using this as a step towards what they pledged they would do at the tail-end of the OGL controversy: obtain and incorporate direct, community feedback. After all, the ability to follow through on proposed behavior changes is what we want when we have problems with people and companies, right? If the goal is to simply do damage control after a public relations nightmare, inviting a bunch of opinionated people with platforms to give feedback isn’t great if one doesn’t intend to actually listen. 

No one attending has forgotten the OGL situation, regardless of where they stood on it. If WotC is doing things well, they’ll learn that from the feedback. If WotC is going in a direction that irks folks at the summit, they’re going to learn that too, and if it’s the latter, that’s not going to help WotC, because the folks in attendance have platforms and haven’t signed any non-disclosure agreements.

Final Thoughts

All in all, what is the D&D Content Creator Summit going to be, and what is going to come out of it? I don’t know. I don’t think anyone does. 

Much like in D&D, we can’t know the outcome of things before the action. That said, there are going to be a lot of talented, caring, observant, insightful content creators present asking hard questions and offering critical feedback. Content creators, especially advocates like those I know are going, work damn hard to produce what they do, and it cheapens their hard work, especially the advocacy work, to call them corporate shills and assume that they’re going to agree with anything presented. Agreement isn’t the assignment. Neither is the assignment for us to listen to WotC. The assignment is for WotC to listen to us.

If we want to see change from people and companies, we have to be willing to note when they take steps to change, even if it’s just the first step. That’s not to say we can’t be critical at the same time. We should be critical, in fact, but critical isn’t the same as unyielding vitriol, universal condemnation, and us-versus-them. Critical means noting both mistakes and successes and pushing for constant improvement. No person or company is going to go from badly messing up to doing everything perfectly. 

As far as I know, WotC is trying something new with this summit, and it represents a shift in how they produce their products. I don’t know if it’s going to lead to sustained changes, but I’m willing to see if it does. I hope it does. More than that, I hope it’s exactly what they said it is: the “first step” in a new strategy of involving the community. My biggest fear is that if they see overwhelming, unflinching condemnation of anything they attempt, especially when it’s violence and threats from the community they’re trying to get input from, then they may stop trying to engage at all, and then we’re left with only anger and unfulfilled hopes. 

[i-heart-hxh]

Did Gon say “it’s none of your business” or “it doesn’t matter to you” to Killua? I’m trying to figure out the nuance of this line and what Gon meant. Killua takes it as a rejection because he’s going through inner turmoil about his place at Gon’s side. But we as the audience know Gon was not rejecting Killua’s friendship here. Was it more a rejection of help? Or just simply lashing out? Or was it him basically saying since it wasn’t Killua’s fault that Kite got hurt Killua didn’t have to deal with the same burden?

@hunterxhell wrote this fantastic meta post on the topic, and also a follow-up post giving more context that I highly recommend. I wholeheartedly agree with both of these posts. (And apologies if I do any repeating of what was said in those posts but less eloquently--I'm trying to share my own thoughts here, but those posts are a basis for the way I see the scene so some repetition is inevitable!) I think "It's none of your business," or "This doesn't concern you," are translations that capture essentially what Gon was saying here, though his previous comment about Killua being able to stay calm/cool-headed does add that, "You don't care about this situation like I do," bite to it regardless.

Here's what Gon says in Japanese, just for reference:

キルアは......いいよね

冷静でいられて

関係ないからっ

What Gon was doing was essentially pushing Killua away--saying that this is his business, his situation, and Killua should stay out of it. His reaction was partly out of anger that Killua was trying to meddle and express his concerns about Gon's behavior and the situation, as Gon was not able to put the brakes on and think about this situation in a more objective way at all (putting it mildly). But it's also partly Gon seeing what happened to Kite as his fault, and Kite as primarily his connection, and in his fog of extreme emotion, it was impossible for him to deal with Killua's (seeming) calmness and analytical way of seeing the situation.

I definitely think this scene connects to Gon's earlier statement in Yorknew about it being okay for him to talk about dying, but not okay for Killua to say the same thing, however:

But, this is just one contributing factor to the situation, as, in that scene we're talking about, Gon is clearly, certainly not acting purely out of a selfless desire for Killua to leave the situation. But, it's telling about his overall attitude--that if something is wrong, he's willing to suffer the consequences and shoulder the burden and even die to rectify it if the situation calls for it, but his feelings about Killua are different.

I don't think Gon sees Killua as having any responsibility for what happened to Kite (even though I do think Killua believes otherwise), and so Gon sees this situation as something he needs to deal with solely, to assuage his overwhelming guilt, and he'll deal with it by any means necessary without letting anyone else get in his way. Killua, on the other hand, is not someone Gon sees as needing to pay this penance, because it's not his business and Kite is not someone who has the same meaning to Killua. It's something Gon wants to deal with alone, in his own way, at his own costs, to make up for how he thinks he failed Kite.

Of course, this all goes completely against how Killua expresses his love for Gon--by helping and supporting him, and wanting to be there with him to the bitter end and beyond if that's what it comes down to.

So, I'd say it's ultimately a combination of him lashing out at Killua due to being unable to cope with the emotional state he was in, and him pushing Killua away because, in Gon's view, Killua didn't have the same level of emotional investment OR blame in the situation. It's hard to summarize--it's emotionally complex, and the way their characters are written throughout the whole series leads up to this point--so you can't consider it in a vacuum, without looking at all their prior tendencies and the ways they see themselves.

I hope this is helpful!

[sanjisblackasswife]

what about getting into an argument with the monster trio </33 craving angst rn

A/N: Hope u don’t mind me taking it a step further with the angst

Also I’m going to separate these because they’re long af.

Zoro Version

Sanji Version

Luffy Version

Breaking up With the Monster Trio (Angst)

Word Count: 6.2k (bruh)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

Ft. Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

CW: Lots of yelling,Implied Cheating, Reader is a Bit Toxic Herself, Cursing, Angst, No Happy Ending, Crying, It is a bit of WCI Spoiler but I tried not to put in too much so I added some situations that wasn’t canon if that makes sense lmao

Zoro

You guys actually are known for arguing in your relationship

You both argue at least once a day over something petty and everybody on the Sunny has come accustomed to it

“YOU CAN’T BRING A SWORD TO A GUN FIGHT ARE YOU INSANE?!”

“DOESNT MATTER I CAN KICK YOU AND ANY OTHER GUNSLINGERS ASS IF I NEEDED TO!”

“SHOCHU IS NOT BETTER THAN SAKE ARE YOU INSANE?!”

“UHHHH YES IT IS?!”

“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS FEEL THE NEED TO RAGE THE HELL OUT WHEN I SPEAK TO SANJI!”

“BECAUSE TWO PERVERTS SHOULDN’T BE IN A ROOM ALONE TOGETHER.”

“KISS MY ASS”

However one day you believe your argument may have turned for the worse.

You and Zoro have been actually having less interactions since you all met back up .

Zoro taken his role as the swordsman of the crew way more seriously and though you respect it and even admire it, it’s just you barely even communicate anymore. Not even petty arguments.

When you do start to try it he just breathes out his nose and finishes what he was doing as if he didn’t care to retort back

It just wasn’t the same between you and Zoro

And you even questioned If you and him were still together

Granted you both didn’t have much time to settle where your relationship was before separating, but you still wanted to at least talk about it, but you both never had time to do so

Intimacy has been long gone. When you seen him again he didn’t even hug you back he just patted your head

He doesn’t sleep in your room anymore. If he does it’s when you’re not in there and busy on watch

It started to get to you.

You wanted to wait and give it time but it’s been weeks now and it’s almost as if he subconsciously just broke up with you over the two years

You tried getting your mind off of it seeing as now there are bigger fish to fry and stronger enemies to defeat

Eventually you and the crew meet Law again and surprisingly you two hit it off better than him and anyone else on the crew.

He didn’t find you annoying—you were level headed and relatively nice to talk to so you managed to keep him company sometimes when he wanted to separate from all of the Strawhats

The attention he gave you was platonic but it was nice none the less—-you even managed to crack a smile out of him a few times

“Y/N-ya. Come help me with this, yeah?”

You both have amazing combat skills together too and it bought you some brownie points with him

Zoro However began to notice this friendship develop immediately

But he didn’t have time to ask you about it he needed to train more

Today though, he had some time

Zoro being Zoro was lost in the forest again but managed to somehow find you and Law sitting across from each other talking. You were laughing with him not even noticing the green haired swordsman approach you from the side.

“Lost again?” Law shot at Zoro still giving you eye contact.

Zoro Just grumbled, “NO! I just happened to find you both…we’re leaving this place soon so you both should wrap up your little date.” You frowned a bit at his tone. Date?

“Date?” You got up to follow him with Law a nice distance behind you both. “We were talking.”

“Yeah you two love doing that—“

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t mean shit. Keep walking.”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a tiny bit happy seeing that Zoro at least noticed and felt jealous about you and Law’s closeness. In reality though you actually didn’t do that to get back at Zoro you enjoyed Law’s company and was refreshing to be around.

You and Zoro bickered a bit walking around the forest not even realizing you three were walking in circles because ZORO was guiding y’all.

“So if you see me talking to another woman what you’re ganna think I’m gay now?!”

“Go ahead and be gay for all I give a fuck—“

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT IM TRYING TO MAKE—“

“Room.”

You both appeared in front of the Sunny not even realizing it still arguing.

“HEY!” Law yelled getting both of your attention walking in between you both, “We’re back. Come find me when you’re done, Y/N-ya.”

“We’re done Talking actually.” Zoro Shot back heading to the training room.

“Says who?! I ain’t finish asshole the hell is all this passive aggressiveness towards me?!”

“Oh, Shut the fuck up!”

“NO YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO ALL FUCKING MONTH I BEEN TRYING TO TALK TO YOU BUT YOU BEING THE DICK THAT YOU ARE JUST BEEN IGNORING ME AND THE FIRST TIME WE DO YOU WANNA FUCKING ARGUE SO FUCK YOU!”

It got awkwardly quiet on the ship. Sanji, and Nami gasped, Robin covered Chopper’s ears, Luffy and Usopp stopped playing, and Franky & Brook just paused.

Zoro looked like the vein in his head was about to explode. He was irritated beyond belief and the patience he barely had was already ran out.

“Go the fuck up the ladder now.”

You squinted your eyes at him. His teeth was gritted at yours and he began to breath a little harder. If he were to hit you you honestly wouldn’t be surprised at this point. You felt the rage coming from his body, he never got this angry with you and you never got this angry with him.

“If we aren’t ganna resolve our issues then I’m not going no where with you.”

“Resolve what exactly? The fact that you can’t be alone? Or the fact that you got bigger tits and you wanna flaunt them around to every guy you see because you crave male attention —-“

“Ain’t this a bitch— THAT’S what you think I’m doing?! You think I’m being some kind of slut or something?! I don’t need nobody’s mothafuckin’ attention if anything I’d like yours but it seems like your swords have all of it!—“

“Y/N..” Nami whispered, and walked over behind you to grab your arm since you started to approach Zoro as if your were ganna hit him.

She and Robin seen the hurt in your face for a while now when Zoro ignores you, they haven’t said anything about it but they had a feeling a fight like this was bound to happen.

“At least my swords don’t go around cheating.”

“Ch—-YOU THINK IM CHEATING ON YOU?”

“IM NOT FUCKING STUPID Y/N IVE SEEN HOW CLOSE YOUVE GOTTEN WITH THAT TRA-GUY—“

“IM ONLY CLOSE WITH HIM BECAUSE WE HAVE GOOD CONVERSATION. WE. COMMUNICATE. UNLIKE. YOU. AND I.” You pointed your finger back and fourth looking as if you were ready to shoot Zoro right then and there so Nami ran over out of worry and held you back by your arm and Usopp and Brook ran over to hold Zoro back because he had the same angry look in his eyes.

“IF YOU KNEW HOW TO SPEAK I WOULDN’T HAVE TO GO TO TALK TO OTHER MEN. Ever thought about that? Roronoa Zoro?”

Zoro stopped moving and just sighed pulling away from the two and walked the opposite way.

“Then keep communicating with him because we’re through. He can have you.”

It was almost as if none of your points were being heard. Your stomach dropped to your ass hearing him wanting to be done with you.

You scoffed.

Sanji was about to go and beat Zoro possibly to death for how he was speaking to you but you stopped him. It didn’t matter it wasn’t going to change anything.

“NO, ITS NOT OKAY YOU PIECE OF SHIT YOU DON’T TALK TO A WOMAN LIKE THAT—!”

“Sanji!” You Held him back fighting any slick of tear to fall down the rim of your waterline. “It’s fine….leave him.”

-

Weeks have past since the argument, the entire energy of the crew has changed. You and Zoro stayed Your distances and never even spoke a syllable to each other once. You don’t eat with the crew anymore no matter how many times Sanji tries to kick Zoro out, but you just try to avoid the trouble.

The girls tried making you feel better, even Luffy tried by doing stupid faces but you haven’t cracked a smile in you don’t know how long. Your face is deadpanned now but your eyes constantly look sad.

You don’t talk much at all either and it hurts, a literal pain in your chest. You’ve been having headaches and a bit of sickness as well. Usually when you feel bad Zoro pokes fun at you for not having his immune system and holds you all day making Sanji bring you soups and teas. But that’s in the long past and now you’re alone in your room. Eyes were puffy, hair was wrapped in a tight scarf, and you had on nothing but a loose shirt and shorts as everybody except you, Franky, and Chopper were out on some new land. Nothing but the sounds of the crashing water and your subtle sniffles fill the room. You wasn’t sure if it was sniffs from being sick or sad but you didn’t care to figure out which

You sat up and decided to just read a book until you fell asleep again. You rummage through your stuff and found a picture. From two years ago. It was the first time you kissed Zoro and Luffy managed to sneak a lot of pictures, from when you both were caught, to Sanji looking pissed, to Zoro chasing Luffy and Sanji chasing Zoro. It was the first night Zoro confessed, how much you meant to him, how much he loved you, but didn’t “like” you, how much you drove him crazy—

And how much he wanted to be with you even after you both achieved your goals.

All the wonderful memories of you and Zoro pulled out some tears blurring your vision, you laughed at yourself with your cheeks now being stained, how stupid could you be to fall for him so hard?

Your chest hurts again. More than it did before it nearly felt like you couldn’t breathe, you hit the back of the wall and slid down crying in ache and pain in silence. Even moreso because now when you see Zoro from the times you mindlessly glanced at him, he looks happier to be without you than with you.

Is this what a heart break felt like?

-

Sanji

Sometimes you believe Sanji is just a womanizer. And you hate it because it’s actually not true.

You both have been dating for a year and you’ve noticed his simp like attitude for most women haven’t really let up.

You knew he would never touch a woman like how he touches you but sometimes when you want his full attention he can’t seem to focus it if another young woman is calling out his name

You didn’t mind it at first but it’s seems like it has gotten worse.

Granted you both never had time to have sex. It’s been back to back with fighting enemies and a bunch of new people joining on board momentarily.

But today was probably the last straw of his obsession with women

“He’s doing what?!”

“No! It’s not like that he got lured !”

“How the fuck do you get lured to a damn brothel, Franky?! He knows better!”

You stormed out of the ship disregarding your watch durty after hearing the unfortunate news. There is no possible way Sanji could be doing what you think he could.

“You messing with me right?”

Seeing Zoro and Sanji rush out of the worn building fixing up each other’s clothing. You really couldn’t believe your eyes if you were quite honest, your heart and stomach sank all at once. Sure, Sanji was a Flirt, and there were a few times early in your relationship you and Sanji talked about the boundaries you both set for when people hit on either of you, he swore up and down he’d work on doing so and you believed him, but you truly wouldn’t have guessed he’d ACTUALLY cheat on you.

Sanji’s hair was disheveled, tie was slightly undone, and he was flustered. It didn’t take too long to understand what happened.

Sanji However was mortified. He tried to get out of there as quick as he could, but he needed to be helped by Zoro and Luffy to escape.

“WAIT NO Y/N IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE—!”

You scoffed at the typical statement turning the opposite way back to the ship. You were more broken than mad. You held your mouth to conceal your quivering lips trying not to cry in front of anybody and picked up your pace to run as far away from Sanji as you could.

“Dumbass. I told you she’d find out.” Zoro muttered shoulder bumping him.

“Y/N I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!”

“Didnt do anything?!” You cried, stopping in your tracks almost causing Sanji to bump into you from how fast he was running towards you, “Sanji…”

You grabbed his cheek with force, squeezing it causing him to flinch, seeing the small lipstick kisses on his cheek so close to the corner of his lips. You immediately imagined him laying with how ever many women, touching, him and to add insult to injury; him enjoying it.

You looked up at the sky, forcing your tears not to escape, but you failed horribly and Sanji’s eyes widened in fear. You drop your hand down and walk away. You didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say because you’d just end up crying even more and that’s one thing you refused to do in front of him or anybody .

You felt so stupid, you knew you shouldn’t have let him in, you were warned by almost everyone to NOT date Sanji, but you seen past that. You didn’t wanna believe the warnings. How stupid could you be? Sanji? Faithful? Doesn’t even make sense unless you put “is not” in between the words.

“Damn it! I never—!” Sanji groaned in frustration running back after you, he knew he messed up BADLY. It wasn’t his intention to go into that brothel! He was actually tricked into going, Zoro warned him not to follow that lady that “needed help”, and the moment he realized where he really was he tried to leave, but women swarmed him trying to get him to stay. The whole story was too good to be true and he knew you wouldn’t buy it.

The moment you arrived back on the ship you felt your blood get hot. The entire walk back you thought about Sanji and those women and the longer your thoughts stayed on that the angrier you became. You had to get a level head though, as much as you wanted to lash out, You knew if you took any action you’d end up regretting it.

“Y/N? You okay?” Robin and Nami seen you nearly sprinting to your room, you didn’t want them to know about the incident so you avoided their gaze.

“I’m—“ you cleared your croaky throat to mask how much you’ve been crying “I’m okay….just need to—to um…”

Nami quickly walked over to you, you got very nasty when you cried. You kept shaking your hands trying to find the words, but the closer the girls approached you the harder it was to conceal any pain you felt. It wasn’t until Robin touched your shoulder that you broke down in their arms about what you seen. You felt so stupid.

Sanji came running back out of breath and he seen you across the ship being held by Robin, your eyes were pink and puffy from rubbing them so harshly out of anger. Nami turned her furious eyes over to the cook ready to kill the man so she stormed over to him.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU SANJI?!”

Nami Tore Sanji a new one yelling and hitting him for the pain he caused you after hearing what happened. Honestly, Nami Just began to enjoy watching you and Sanji as a couple. She never thought you guys would last so long considering how he was, but she just started to believe he learned to behave.

You thought the same too.

Robin took you back to her room to calm you down and step away from the commotion, “Are you sure Sanji was really cheating?”

“I know what I saw Robin. He was coming out of the building, putting back on his jacket with lip stains.”

Robin patted your head, she refused to believe Sanji would ever hurt you like that especially from what he told her weeks prior:

“You shouldn’t worry, Sanji you already know what’s she’s going to say..”

“I don’t know…what if—“

“There’s no what if’s. I see the way she looks at you. How much you’ve changed her. She’ll say yes.”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU, SANJI?! AFTER ALL YOU BOTH BEEN THROUGH? WAS Y/N NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU?!”

Sanji was on his knees taking every hit Nami had on his head, not even trying to defend hisself she was furious than anything else. She noticed how happier you were with him. How sweet he was to you, and even though she had her doubts she believed in what Robin said.

About 30 minutes past and Robin managed to get you to sleep off your tears. It was needed. She left you in the room to sleep and headed back out to where Sanji was in the kitchen and everybody was getting ready to head back on the not to set sail.

“Sanji…” Robin leaned on the kitchen door, his back was facing hers hunched over a little. She didn’t have to look at his face to know he was sulking. “What really happened back there?”

….

A few hours have pasted and you woke up to a warm presence beside you rubbing your arm, you cracked your eyes open to see Sanji’s blurred figure, but when you pounced up it was nobody.

“Good..” You thought rubbing your eyes. The room was dark hinting it was now later in the night and though you could argue that was the best sleep you’ve had in a while you wish someone would have woke you.

You make up Robin’s bed and head to your own room for the night, not wanting to see anybody else still a bit of anger lingering in your head, however this is the Thousand Sunny where 11 other people live. There is no alone time.

“Get out Sanji…” Was all you groaned rubbing your eyes, seeing him sparked back up that annoyance and seeing his pink eyes really meant nothing right now.

“No. I have to explain—“

“There’s nothing to explain. You wanted to be with those other women…and you did. I’m over it.”

“But thats not what I wanted it was a trick I would never do that! Baby—“

“Don’t ‘Baby’ me if I was your baby you wouldn’t have been in that fucking brothel.— You know what—…”

You wipe your face in frustration and sigh, the last thing you wanted was to just completely scream at him off bat, considering how he reacts to you doing it.

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Sanji. I know I’m not the ideal woman. I’m not as gorgeous as Nami or Robin. I’m not as girly as them. I don’t always dress the best. I have many flaws, but you don’t know the exhaustion I get when I see you give so many women this attention that I want. You don’t understand how it feels to have a partner that is very attractive and can also ATTRACT whatever he wants it’s damn near sickening now because I feel like it’s gotten worse with you and when I seen you with that lipstick I damn near lost my mind…”

Your voice began to crack and tears manages to slowly escape your eyes.

“I knew what I was getting into when you asked me out but I don’t know…sometimes I feel like…you settled…and…it sucks because I never felt that way with you…and..”

You couldn’t even finish. You just wanted to pour your heart out because you hated keeping in your feelings, but it was all too overwhelming and you just broke down. Sanji immediately grabbed you to hold you and in that moment he was whispering small apologizes and it did… it did feel good to be held by him,

But it was wrong. Because he does this same routine to apologize.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N…please…I made a mistake I’d never…” His lips right over yours as your face was in his neck leaning in closer, “Please know Id never hurt you..” His mouth began to inch closer to yours, but you pushed back harshly nearly making him fall.

“No! You don’t get to touch me! You always do that Sanji when I get upset with you and it just leads to me forgiving you again and us having sex I don’t want that! I’m tired! I’m tired of being hurt! IT’S THE SAME BULLSHIT ROUTINE WITH YOU AND THESE WOMEN SANJI—- DO YOU KNOW HOW I FELT BACK WHEN I FOUND OUT YOU WERE MARRYING THAT GIRL?! YOU NEVER EVEN ASKED ME IF I WAS OKAY WHEN YOU CAME BACK YOU JUST ASSUMED EVERYTHING WAS FINE AND DANDY?! I STILL THINK AND WONDER IF MAYBE YOU REALLY DID WANTED TO MARRY HER AND IT WASNT BECAUSE YOU WERE ‘FORCED’…”

“Y/N I DID IT TO PROTECT YOU! I WANT TO BE WITH YOU I ONLY THOUGHT OF YOU I’D NEVER EVER PURPOSELY TRIED TO HURT YOU EVER THEY WERE ALL MISTAKES! THEY WERE ALL SITUATIONS I COULDN’T GET OUT OF, BUT YOU NEED TO KNOW THAT IF I COULD CHANGE MY DECISION I WOULD AND YOU KNOW THIS!”

The arguing continued. Neither of you were willing to hear out the other without cutting each other’s sentences. This was probably the first argument you and Sanji ever had where he was actually upset and not willing to back down.

“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME AND BELIEVE ME—“

“I DON’T HAVE TO BELIEVE SHIT SAN—you know…” you pull your faces with your palms groaning until it transitions into a frustrated scream, you were over it. You had a headache and just wanted to sleep. “Just get out Sanji. I don’t wanna hear your voice right now.”

If the room was quiet with no background noises of the sea you could have actually heart break. You didn’t change your face, you were exhausted, but a small part of you felt immediate guilt seeing his shocked and saddened reaction, but you were stubborn.

“….does this mean we’re through?”

You could hear the cracks in his voice, eyes already threatening to water, you immediately avoided his sorrowed face and paused for a moment leaving the awkward quiet tension in the air so thick you can cut it with a knife.

You nodded.

Sanji couldn’t contain his tears, they flooded his cheeks, mouth parted he fell to the ground on his knees reaching up to your leg to hold them. He couldn’t believe it he didn’t want this to be true.

“Please…please no please don’t leave me….I can’t lose you I’m so sorry. Please.” Sanji couldn’t even make coherent words he sobbed on your legs, it shattered you immensely.

Your hands hesitantly touch his head but retracted it and instead pull him off. “You have to get out, Sanji…”

“I’m not leaving until we talk this out—“

“Get the fuck out before I make you get out.”

Your voice was cold like ice sounding as if you didn’t want to be in his presence, but Sanji couldn’t be fooled that easily. You couldn’t even speak to his face, you were fighting back tears yoursef, lips quivering and words were shaky. It was your anger talking and you knew this, but you didn’t care to just look at him to listen, to hear him, to understand, and fix the relationship. Instead. You wanted to just run away.

Sanji got off his knees, head low like a puppy wiping his eyes, his body felt weighed down, he was defeated, but he didn’t want to take the loss.

“I’m not letting you go, Y/N…ever….so..don’t think—“

“JUST LEAVE SANJI!”

You back was faced to him right before he shut the door and in a quick motion you sat on your bed and screamed your heart out in a pillow. Sanji heard, chest in pain, he leaned on your door crying as well.

Words couldn’t express this pain, it was as if your entire life came crashing. This wasn’t supposed to happen between you both.

This wasn’t supposed to end.

-

Luffy

How dense Luffy can be can really be exhausting

He was too trusting for his own good and though you once admired you now have grown to be annoyed with it

Maybe it was your fault

Maybe you were over reacting, but really? He couldn’t even take your side ?

But IT WAS BOA. You hated her! And Luffy knew this.

Luffy was also very emotionally intelligent, it was impressive how quick he can notice how you can feel, but that didn’t mask how dense he can be handling your emotions.

Boa was once again back and with Luffy, they were on the furthest part of the deck speaking. It’s been a week and for some reason she was still here. She claims it was to “check up on Luffy”, but for what? Y’all JUST reunited a few weeks ago and Boa has been back and fourth coming and going on the ship as she pleases and it began to irk you.

Everybody knew about her obsession with your captain except your own damn captain. The way her touched lingered, the way she blushed when talking to him, the way she would do pretty much anything for him.

It. Irked. You.

She was aware of your relationship with Luffy, which was why you both have had a few heated arguments before. The last one resulting in you nearly drawing your gun at her. It was embarrassing on your end because you never was the type to fight over a man, but this man in particular doesn’t understand when a woman that isn’t his is blatantly flirting and touching all on him and how much it eats up at you.

And everybody is aware of this. So much so that everybody purposely tries to occupy you from seeing the two today to keep things cordial.

“Are you tryna distract me?” Your tone slightly above a tease crossing your arms at Sanji Would was being more than overbearing to keep you in the kitchen with him.

“What?! No I could never! Just keep reading in here, Y/N-San!” He had a cold sweat immediately seeing Boa and Luffy now outside the door giggling and eating together. She brought him a bunch of food as another one of her “gifts” and at that very moment Luffy was tone deaf to everything in sight. Sanji noticed the beautiful woman inch closer and closer their shirtless captain and an instant chill ran down his spine on the possibility of what you’d do.

You shrugged, somewhat naive to what’s happening, you continued to finish your book, giving Sanji a sigh of relief back to his stove. The background noise of the kitchen eventually became tuned out while diving deep into your book. All was well until—-

“OH LUFFY I LOVE YOU!”

It felt like time froze, hearing that unbearable voice, you knew exactly who it was.

“SHE’S HERE AGAIN!?”

You slam your book on the table leaving it behind as you storm out. When you came outside your eyes were met with the same bullshit sight that always led you and Bo to fight

Her breasts smothering Luffy’s face and him not paying any kind to it.

“Oh Luffy! I— oh. MMPH.” Once again . Boa was being too touchy for your liking and it made your eye twitch. Her snarky attitude towards you and you only made you unreasonably upset. The way she’d sometimes purposely touch and cope a feel of Luffy in front of you just for Luffy to laugh at the situation and think you both actually don’t have beef with each other .

“Oh hey Y/N!” Luffy pulled from Boa’s grip to run over to you with his typical Happy Hour lucky smile. He didn’t a care in the world seeing you looking so upset but the tall woman now behind him did.

“Oh Luffy it was so amazing seeing you again! I’m so glad you—-“

Boa’s compliments and heart eyes went through one eye and out the other with you considering you kept getting irritated the longer she lingered on the ship. You wasn’t in the mood to argue with her, but that didn’t stop you from pulling Luffy away as she inches closer by reflex as if you were a child not wanting to share your toy.

Boa noticed this and immediately grumbled in irritation.You clearly don’t understand how angry you make this woman. Your boyfriend just pulled into your touch closer as he ate which in turned made her heart sting, but before she had another dramatic fit an idea came to mind.

“Before I go Luffy I just wanted to let you know that if you need anything just send me a call okay? …and my offer still stands with you about our…little agreement. Remember?”

Luffy furrowed his eyebrows a bit humming in thought trying to remember what “agreement” she was offering. She has made so damn many to him involving getting married who knows what this would be?

“Uh…”

“Oh you don’t remember? Before you left your training we had such an unforgettable night and—“

“OOOOOH! Oh yeah no thanks!” Luffy laughs scaring his head, “Yeah no I’m fine I have Y/N for that!”

It was like Boa nearly turned into stone herself , her face was dumbfounded and her heart was stung, as much as she wanted to cry and plead for Luffy to take her up on her “offer” she had to go but promised to be back soon. The moment she left it was almost as if everybody could breathe again and went back to their devices, but you however dwelled in the whole “offer” situation and how Luffy stated he had you for that.

After lunch Luffy and you were on the Sunny doing your daily fishing routine you both typically started doing when you both began dating. It was peaceful and sweet feeling Luffy happily hun and lean on your shoulder, but you just couldn’t relax until your curiosity subsided.

“Lu?”

“Hm? You caught a fish?!” He sat up ready to help pull your fishing rod, but you grab his wrist.

“No! No not that! I just…Um…okay what did Boa mean by ‘offer’?”

“Huh?”

“When she said you guys had an unforgettable night and—“

“Ohh! Oh That!” Luffy laughs and pats your head. “So before I left she accidentally kissed me and th—“

“She what?” You felt your stomach turn a little, sunk really.

“She kissed me! But she apologized so it was an accident ..anyways she said that we should have one night of uh…” Luffy scratched his head trying to think of the word she used. “What’s that word Sanji uses a lot? Starts with a P?”

Your eyes widen in horror on the possible answer he may say,

“PASSION THATS THE WORD!” Luffy chuckles pointing his finger upwards, “a night of passion, I didn’t know what she meant until she said ‘made love’. At the time I still didn’t understand but I remember that’s what you call what we do sometimes so I said no.”

“Luffy i thought you said I was your first kiss.”

“You were!”

“No.” You stood up crossing your arms, “I wasn’t if that stupid bitch kissed you.”

“Woaaahh!” Luffy laughs a little making your eye twitch in annoyance as he gets up, “you mad?”

“No I’m not mad.”

“Yes you are? You only curse when you’re mad.”

“I’m not fucking mad I’m irritated!”

“Same thing.”

“IT’S NOT LUFFY! Why does she keep coming back we don’t need her help anymore we are GOOD!”

Once again you began to Nager and complain about Boa and her presence which always made Luffy Just roll his eyes playfully. He never understood why you were always so mad when she was around but after learning that they both had the opportunity to have sex AND she kissed him you now had a better reason to explain.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is y/n it’s just a kiss. Besides we weren’t dating and I wasn’t thinking about you when it happened.” Luffy shrugged it off taking away your rod to finish fishing, “what?”

“Don’t what me?! You let her kiss you?!”

“I wouldn’t say let..she just did it, who cares?”

“I do, Luffy! You said I was your first kiss! When I asked you about you and Boa you said nothing happened you don’t remember?!”

“It’s not a big deal, y/n calm down and sit with me!” he reached out for you to sit on his lap with a bright smile but all you could do was sit there with a gaped mouth.

Your captain wasn’t the best with words, but damn he could have worded it better. The mere thought of Luffy and Boa being so close made your head spin. And you knew. You knew Boa said it Just to get a rise out of you, and she succeeded because you completely ignored Luffy and headed to your room for the rest of the vending leaving him confused for a moment.

You were quiet all dinner. Not even sitting next to Luffy like you usually do and he seemed not to noticed which piled on to the anger you already had.

He was acting as if he didn’t know you were mad at him and it made you mad.

Were you overreacting possibly?

Even if you were you don’t care to listen to reason right now you’re pissed and want to be alone.

“There you are!” Luffy laughs busting in your room in the late evening to see you buried like burritos in your blankets back facing him. “I thought we were ganna take a bath together.”

“Take it yourself.” Your words are mumbled by the covers. Luffy tilts his head confused at your cold tone, he once again shrugs it off to get in the bed with you to hold you but you wiggle out of his grasp making him whine at your attitude.

“Y/NNNN COMMONNNN IM COLD!” He snatches the blanket off , your warm body now shivering in the cold.

“Luffy for fucks sake—“

“You cussed again. You’re mad—“

“I’m not fucking mad Luffy can’t you ever just read the room?! I had other blankets you could use!”

In your mind your really didn’t want to curse Luffy out. He obviously didn’t deserve it but you’ve been alone in your room all day replaying scene with him and Boa in your head and you just could NOT think about it.

Luffy tries to pull your arm to sleep back with him but you instead pull away to put one some sweats.

“Where are you going?! You don’t have watch duty!”

“I’ll be back Luffy.”

“You always walk away when you’re mad .”

“What?!”

“You do. It’s kinda annoying honestly . Just lay back in bed with me—“

“I said I’ll be back Luffy!” You tried to hide the annoyance in your voice but failed miserably. Was he wrong though? You run away from any issues you tend to have with Luffy and he always calls you out on it. It almost felt like you wanted to cry right on the deck out of frustration. You ended up not sleeping I with him that night. He didn’t seem to mind or ask.

Then one night turned into two.

Then three.

Then a month.

It almost became like you both drifted away. Luffy stopped coming in your room to bother you, you both don’t hang out as much, Luffy seemed normal, you also seemed okay, but every once in a while you felt almost as if you both subconsciously broke up.

He watched you from a distance dancing and laughing with Nami and his cheeks warmed ever so slightly. You have been quieter around him, he didn’t seemed to mind it, but maybe he was over thinking.

But he wasn’t, it’s been 4 months and even though you were still with the Strawhats it was almost as if your relationship has diminished. It was no longer the same between you both, no more fun exchanges, no more inside jokes, no more late night food runs. It was all just

Gone.

And you both ignored how it made you both really feel.

[elliewiltarwyn]

A Specialized Problem (OC Swap Gift for @mythandral)

for the FFXIV OC Swap discord's current swap, my giftee is the incomparable @mythandral! Coming in a little under the wire here cause the deadline is on Sunday ghasldkfjkasd BUT I'm really glad I finally sat myself down and devoted the energy to exploring Myth's whole deal because it's all so cool and fascinating and he's a wonderful character, and I hope this gift lives up to those standards!!

I present a 2,321-word fluffy MythXStephanivien fic illustrated with gposes from Steph's POV centered around Myth. I offered either gposes or fic writing, and then hubristically decided I could do both. >.> also there was technically a theme for the swap but thankfully they were optional because I completely forgot sdghalshgf however I suppose you could say this is adjacent to the Valentione's/Love option?? it is goddamn cotton-candy levels of fluff at least lol

ANYWAY WITHOUT FURTHER ADO hope you all and Myth in particular enjoy!!

It was well after the end of the workday, with the gray Coerthan clouds beginning to tint orange and the sun beginning to aim its reach through the still-open doors of the manufactory, and Myth had yet to move an ilm from his spot.

This in and of itself wasn’t terribly surprising; Stephanivien was used to his husband’s tendency to focus on his projects to the exclusion of most else. It was a method of increasing his productivity and a process of healing both for him, allowing him to turn his anxieties into progress on any number of little projects that had fallen by the wayside in the manufactory’s assembly line, but ones that would be of immense benefit to unfortunate folk from the slowly-ascending peasants of the Brume to the steadily-recovering citizens of Garlemald. Even if it were for no benefit but his own, Stephanivien would never begrudge him these times to himself; Fury knows he could use some of those moments, butting heads with his lord father and Tedalgrinche and other such doubters all day as he does. Albeit less so these days.

No, Stephanivien’s concern was more prosaic: typically, Myth’s personal space in these times was active and bright, delighting in the sounds of his tools tinkering with his project, examining it from every angle and frequently ducking his head and craning his neck into unusual positions to do so, not to mention how he would gladly explicate upon his process to any who asked, especially if they were new hires of the manufactory who were like to stand there in awe of the Warrior of Light more than actually listen to a word he was saying. Quite frankly, Myth was a delight when he was in these moods.

Today, it had been anything but: Mythandral Raas, beloved senior engineer of Skysteel Manufactory, husband of its proprietor, and Warrior of Light, had spent near the full afternoon gazing blankly at the device in pieces before him on the table — his own aetherometer. His elbows had rested on the table for what seemed to be several bells, his hands clasped across the bridge of his nose as his burnished golden eyes, the color of the sun hiding behind the overcast sky, traced the span of gears, nuts, bolts and wires sprawled across his workspace. Most disturbingly, he had paid no heed to any who tried to draw his attention — not that anyone pressed particularly far, fearful as they were of disturbing such a notable figure of renown, no matter how open-minded and approachable Myth presented himself.

‘Twas quite strange for Myth, but Stephanivien had some ideas percolating in his overactive mind — both as to the cause and as to possible solutions.

And so as the day wound down and countless employees and guild trainees trickled out the door, each bidding both proprietor and Warrior of Light good night, Stephanivien pretended to busy himself with a pile of messy letters that a Haillenarte manservant had delivered earlier that day, flipping and reading through the same three or four until activity in the manufactory died down, until all that could be heard was the sound of steam rushing through pipes and small hisses of exhaust — the murmurs, chatter, and laughter of his employees finally absent. Even now, Myth continued to regard his aetherometer sternly, attempting to solve a puzzle that, Stephanivien admitted, could stump even himself.

Once he had judged it to be likely they truly were the last in the manufactory, Stephanivien raised his voice slightly to note, “Stare any harder, my dear, and you’re like to burn a hole straight through the thing.”

Finally, for the first time in several hours, Myth’s head rose from its downturned angle. Smirking to himself, Stephanivien balled up the letters in his hand, tossed them over his shoulder into the wastebasket, and slipped out from behind the desk to make for his partner’s side. As his boots clacked across the wooden floor, Myth’s head slowly craned around to gaze up at him over his shoulder, blinking fairly irregularly and furrowing his brow as if he had just awoken from deep slumber. “Of course, if doing so would solve your seemingly impenetrable dilemma, then I wholeheartedly encourage it by all means.” Stephanivien winked. “As I always encourage exploring such unorthodox methods.”

“Unfortunately, this is a matter that requires a delicate approach,” Myth demurred as the corner of his lips tugged upwards slightly. “I won’t deny I’ve been quite tempted to incinerate the blasted thing a number of times, though.”

“’Twould certainly eradicate the problem in one sense.” Now by his side, Stephanivien reached over and laid a gentle hand on his partner’s shoulder while extending the other around in front; Myth took the hint and reached up to clasp it, each machinist curling their fingers around each other’s thick padded gloves. “Shall I take a look? Fresh perspectives oft bear unforeseen solutions, as you well know.”

Myth sighed. “You’re welcome to, I suppose, but I fear this is a particularly specialized problem. It involves…well.” He chuckled, sat up a little, and wryly rapped his knuckles against his own chest; Stephanivien knew very well the “problem” laying beneath Myth’s perfectly-tailored, shockingly-clean-for-a-Skysteel-engineer shirt. “My stint with the Light is largely resolved, but I am still particularly susceptible to fluctuations in my aether, particularly when I’m doing something aether-intensive; when I accrue a surfeit, the probability that the aetherometer will jam rises — the lightning-aspected aether it is supposed to draw becomes imbalanced toward the umbral.” With his free hand, he reached for a small wrench that laid on the table next to the meter, flipped it into his fingers with all the dexterity of a Lominsan rogue with their knives, and drummed it along the length of an internal piece of the meter’s machinery. “I am trying to figure out how to filter Light aether and restore the lightning’s astral balance, in essence.”

Stephanivien frowned. “That is quite the conundrum — after all, if it were possible before…”

“…I would likely have had a much easier time in the First, yes,” Myth mused with a grim chuckle.

“That aether fluctuations could cause errors with the extraction is a possibility I ought to have considered. It pains me to know my oversight has been causing you grief.”

“Come now, there’s no way you could have possibly known ‘twould be an issue when you invented this,” Myth immediately interjected, shaking his head up at his husband with a mischievous grin. “Frankly, had you, it would have raised serious questions about your choice of occupation. You could make a killing with that sort of precognition.”

Stephanivien submitted to a chuckle himself as he squeezed his husband’s hand and shoulder both. “You say that, and yet I am not unaware of the skeptical glares everyone still gives my prospectometer.” Myth stifled a laugh with his other hand, a sound Stephanivien had not heard all day and had sorely missed. “At any rate, mayhap we should step away from the problem for a time? Even your genius mind cannot carry on forever without rest and recuperation.” That being said, Stephanivien’s insides churned, as he knew quite well why Myth had been focusing so intently on solving this particular puzzle. From the tales he had heard, from what he had seen cross his husband’s torso, the Light had done quite a number on him, to put it far too lightly…

Thankfully, Myth’s response to the proposition was to sigh, lean his head against Stephanivien’s hand, and murmur, “Perhaps you have a point.” He groaned and stretched his other arm and both legs outward, rotating his wrist and feet as he stretched his neck to one side, then the other. There was a grimace on his face when he muttered, “I definitely should not have sat here all day. Have you aught in mind for an alternate activity?”

“‘Activity’ should not be a factor in the equation, my dear…” Stephanivien trailed off as his gaze tracked towards the chronometer sitting on the manufactory’s front desk. The specific time that it was currently displaying suddenly ignited the spark of an idea in his mind, and he grinned. “Though I do believe I’ve thought of something. Here — follow me.”

Myth’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he allowed Stephanivien to pull him to his feet and start to make for the stairs hand-in-hand. Stephanivien’s heart beat faster and faster in his breast as they climbed those stairs to the manufactory’s upper story, crossing the landing until they reached one of the doors on the far side with a ‘No Entry’ placard hanging off the handles; Stephanivien carelessly yanked it off and pulled Myth through, crossing into a poorly-lit corridor.

“Hm.” Even in the darkness, Stephanivien was well aware of the arched eyebrow upon his husband’s face. “I can’t say I’ve ever been down this way.”

“You did not think the ‘No Entry’ was a physical barrier, surely?”

“You never know.”

Stephanivien laughed gaily as they began to climb another set of stairs. After all his worrying, all Myth’s trials, he could not well describe the extent to which he was walking on clouds hearing his partner’s sense of humor return to prominence.

There wasn’t much further banter as the two ascended the stairs to an extent much further than Stephanivien was sure Myth expected, distracted as they were with the effort and the numbered floors counting off in Stephanivien’s mind. Once they reached the fifth landing, he diverted off the steps onto it and led Myth down another few dark corridors, eventually reaching one sitting unremarkedly at the far end.

“You may want to cover your eyes for a moment,” Stephanivien warned with a cheeky grin; Myth looked confused still, but obliged, lowering his goggles and shading them with his hand. Holding his breath in anticipation, Stephanivien yanked the door open and pulled Myth through.

The moment the sun fell across Myth’s face, it rose in shock, his lips slightly parted as it literally dawned on him what was happening. “Wait, but…”

Stephanivien couldn’t help a satisfied smirk as he gently coaxed his partner forward, stepping onto a surprisingly wide stone landing and making for its edge. “Ishgard has a reputation for dreariness that is not wholly unearned,” he said matter-of-factly, “but there are certain places that are adept at reminding me ‘twas not always a cold and biting clime.”

“Right here at the manufactory?” Myth replied in awe; having apparently gotten used to it now, he pushes his goggles back up onto his forehead and lowers his hand, his golden eyes sweeping back and forth, taking in the vista before them.

“‘Tis not particularly known, and I am ill-inclined to reveal it to most. But of course, I will make certain exceptions.” Stephanivien beams at Myth as they reach the edge and draw to a standstill, relishing the way the widening of his partner’s eyes gave him premium access to the view of their golden pupils, now soaking in not just the scenic view of the ridges of Abalathia’s Spine but the way the sun perfectly sat at the apex of one of the gaps between the Pillars for which the district was so named.

A hesitance struck Stephanivien at that moment, the potential pitfalls of his devious plan now catching up with his overactive mind. After all, if Light was the source of such woe for him… But he remained resolute as he gestured at the vista, lingering in particular on the rays of the sun, so strong with such defined shapes that he swore he could reach out and pluck them from the frigid air. “The sun travels over Coerthas as normal, of course — but it never nestles into what I would declare its proper spot aside from this particular time of day, in this particular season.”

He exhaled a visible puff of air and put his hand on his hip, the other now tightly beginning to curl into Myth’s. “From this spot,” he began quietly, “I can remember easier that we are not so isolated here in Ishgard — that the warm touch of the sun can reach even us.” His gaze flicked up to Myth’s eyes again, meeting them as Myth turned to stare at him. “Both that we need not suffer our trials alone… and that ‘tis still possible to partake of that which is comforting about the light.”

Myth’s other hand, on apparent instinct, rose up and placed itself directly upon his chest, over the precise centerpoint where Stephanivien knew the scars laid. “Steph,” he breathed, “you…”

Stephanivien chewed his lip anxiously, the nerves beginning to rise to a fever pitch as he suddenly found himself unable to read his husband’s expression. “I apologize profusely if I’ve given any offense,” he murmurs, averting his gaze, “I merely thought—”

A leather glove wraps around his hip and pulls him in to share a deep kiss with Myth, one which he enthusiastically reciprocates, reaching up to cup his partner’s cheek and move in for a more comfortable position, a warm position, here in the arms of Mythandral Raas.

“You are,” Myth breathed between kisses, “as always, a genius, and have the answer to everything.” They pulled apart slightly, just enough to rest their foreheads against each other; Stephanivien stifled a chuckle as their goggles clacked awkwardly against each other. “Thank you, my love.”

Stephanivien grinned. “I’m overjoyed to have helped.” They kissed again, and Stephanivien began to tangle his fingers in the lengths of Myth’s luxurious hair. “If you like,” he whispered somewhat mischievously, “I can steal down briefly for some of the ale stores? I’ve found it goes quite well with the view.”

“Oh, on any other day, I would gladly,” Myth replied, pulling back and grinning at his husband. “But tonight, I think I would keep my mind clear. I’ve just had a flash of inspiration about my problem, after all.”

[icedragonlizard]

Marx's dynamics with Gooey and the Animal Friends

I've got a lot of thoughts on how Marx interacts with these guys! Basically, I embrace the idea of wave 1 dream friends being close friends with each other, and Gooey technically already has some canonical association with the animal friends. So all I had to do was throw Marx into the mix with them somehow!

I think he actually fits decently well with them! Allow me to share all the headcanons I have of Marx's friendships with these guys.

Inserting 'Keep reading tag' because it's long.

Marx was gone from Planet Popstar for a very long time after Milky Way Wishes. It's only several months before Star Allies when he makes his grand return to the planet to reconcile with Kirby.

After their reconciliation, Kirby then went to help Marx make new friends. Before Marx's return to Popstar, his only friend was Magolor. Kirby wanted to see how some of his other friends would put up with Marx, and if any of them would be willing to be Marx's friends as well.

That's where Gooey and the animal friends came in. Kirby introduced Marx to these guys before introducing him to anyone else. The reason for this is because Gooey and the animal friends are generally a very forgiving bunch, and they were quick to forgive the entire wave 3 trio after their respective incidents. Kirby remembered this, and so he figured they'd be quick to accept Marx as a friend as well.

And accept him as a friend they did. Once they've spent enough time with him, they think he's the funniest person in existence. They really like him. In return, he likes them a lot, and is delighted that they're often willing to join him into doing some tomfoolery sometimes.

After Magolor and Kirby, these guys are the next friends that Marx has made, and they're rather special to him because of that.

Gooey and the animal friends all like some mischief themselves as they're all rather on the silly side, and they're more level-headed than most of the others in the cast as they don't really get easily pissed off. This is what allows them to take well to Marx and his shenanigans.

They don't mind getting pranked by him, they're entertained by it! Marx can prank them in ways that would be considered 'too far' for many others. Some of the animal friends even choose to mess with him back, much to his delight! He loves it when that happens.

That being said, however, Gooey and the animal friends do have their standards and would stop Marx if they think he's crossing a line. We'll go over more on that later, but let's go over how Marx interacts with each and every one of these guys individually!

Gooey is basically Marx's buddy, lol. Marx really likes Gooey. He thinks Gooey is hilarious, and he's nicer to Gooey than he is to most others. Marx will often bounce on Gooey like he's one of his beach balls. He also has a nickname for the dark matter defect, as he calls him 'Goobert'. Gooey loves Marx and considers him to be fun to hang out with. He constantly laughs at Marx's funny business.

Marx often hypes Gooey up and tries to teach him to pull pranks. Gooey is usually a very nice and well-meaning person, but he's also not very smart and often lets himself be taught by Marx how to prank because he thinks it'll be very fun and entertaining!

There are occasions where Gooey ends up emulating Marx's bad behavior, with perhaps the most notable example being that Marx will come up to random unsuspecting people and say "Hey, hey, hey! I think he wants you to give him a big kiss!" causing Gooey to come up and lick that person. Whenever this kind of thing happens, Gooey does apologize to that person later on and said it was just for fun.

Rick is fairly outgoing and likes to move around a lot, and so he's often glad to join Marx in going around and starting some sillies! There are times where Marx would let Rick balance a beach ball on his nose, and he'd even try to bounce on the beach ball during it.

There are other times where Rick would turn into a big rolling stone (his stone ability in Dream Land 3, as he can use any time since he can use it in Star Allies too) and Marx would then leap on top of him to cause some rolling mischievous madness. When they go rick-rolling around, they may crash onto trees for kicks and giggles.

Marx may also try to mimic Rick's accent, and the hamster of course doesn't mind that. Yes, literally, my headcanon universe's Rick has an Australian accent just like the Rick from the Kirby anime, lol.

Kine is very goofy and is a big joke-teller. He and Marx exchange funny talk a lot. It's enriching for the both of them. They'll make funny faces at each other, too. Marx thinks that Kine is the funniest fish to exist, and when he learned about how the animal friends combined copy abilities with Kirby, he thought that Kine was the one that performed the funniest copy ability combinations out of the bunch. He laughed when he learned that Kine had light bulbs in his mouth, shot fireballs underwater, and stuffed a big rock inside of himself.

There are times where Marx would have Kine stuff a beach ball in his mouth, to then later cannonball out of his mouth to cause mischief. They coordinate doing this on random unsuspecting people.

Coo sometimes enjoys doing aerial tomfoolery with Marx. The two like to fly around to cause some minor mischief. Marx may spit beach balls out of his mouth for Coo to slap with his wings to hit random unsuspecting people. What makes this especially funny for the two of them is that if the balls hit random people from far away because they did high in the air, those people will never know who caused it.

That being said, Coo is also the most serious of the animal friends. Out of them, he's the one that puts the most effort in keeping Marx in check. If Marx crosses a line, Coo is the first animal friend to stop him. Coo himself doesn't mind tomfoolery every now and then, but he quickly knows when to stop if things get out of hand. He'll give Marx the look when he deems it necessary to.

Marx thinks it's funny to sometimes trigger Coo into giving him the look just for the sake of it. He likes Coo quite a lot.

Nago is the laziest and least talkative of the animal friends, and therefore is the one to join Marx in tomfoolery the least often out of the bunch. He still enjoys the jester's company, though. He's easily amused by his antics. There's also this thing that Marx and Nago have going on where Nago will steal Marx's beach ball, causing them to playfight, and Nago just tells Marx to go make another beach ball or go use Gooey as a ball to bounce on.

ChuChu thinks that Marx is hysterically funny, and she's bold enough to even start shit with him. Marx and ChuChu have this thing going on where they're weirdly fixated on stealing each other's bows. One will try to pull a fast one on the other to find an opportunity to steal their bow, with ChuChu using one of her tentacles to yank Marx's small bow off his chest, while he steals her big bow off her head.

Marx also started teasing ChuChu for her liking of Kirby when he first found out about it. This got reactions out of her at first until she eventually started taking well to it and even laughs when he does it.

Pitch is a devious little turd that's also not afraid to start stuff with Marx. These two like to bicker for kicks and giggles, and sometimes it's Pitch that initiates it. They both consider it to be enriching. Pitch is actually Marx's favorite out of the animal friends, because he thinks it's hilarious how much of a troll the little bird can be sometimes.

Pitch and ChuChu enjoy bickering with each other and sometimes metaphorically 'beat each other up'. Marx thinks it's absolutely hilarious when this happens and eggs the both of them on.

All in all, Marx enjoys the company of all these guys. He's got things going on with each and every one of them. He commonly hangs out with them a lot. He's kind of grown a soft spot for them.

Marx was quick to join Rick, Kine, Coo and Gooey when the events of Star Allies began. Nago, ChuChu and Pitch stayed behind because Coo thought that the big intergalactic journey would've been too dangerous for ChuChu and Pitch, as Nago decided to babysit them. Marx, however, was more than welcome to participate.

During Star Allies, the dream friends often split up into groups by their respective waves, and wave 1 was usually a group together. They had a blast kicking ass and taking names when they fought bad guys together during Star Allies. They fought bad guys in mischievous ways, and commonly laughed as they trolled their way through the Jambastion fortress. When the mage sisters were the enemy before their redemption, wave 1 mocked them after defeating them. Unsurprisingly, Marx was doing the most mocking, as Gooey, Rick, Kine and Coo just enabled him and even joined him in doing it.

There were points in Star Allies however when Marx wanted to join Magolor in beating up Jamba bad guys. Due to his insistency in this, wave 1 and wave 3 were a bit connected as the animal trio found opportunities to let Marx be with Magolor for a bit.

After Star Allies, Marx continues being friends with Gooey and the animal friends, as he reunites with Nago, ChuChu and Pitch after the game's events. They were glad to see him again.

Marx's dynamics with these guys more or less remains this way from now on. They like him, they think he's funny as heck, and they'll sometimes join him into doing some sillies.

However, despite liking mischief themselves, the animal friends do have standards. Marx has a knack for causing eventual chaos, and sometimes that can be too much for the animal friends. ChuChu and Pitch may be rowdy enough to occasionally cause accidental chaos, but they themselves still have some clear standards and they'd know when to stop Marx when he goes too far.

Gooey and the animal friends generally have little problem with Marx causing funny stuff with them. If he becomes chaotic with them, they stop him, although they don't really have hard feelings for him about it for the most part. It's when he messes with other people, however, is when it's far more likely they can end up getting mad at him.

They understand that many other people are more easily ticked off than they are, and so they honor that to try to get Marx to not bother others too much. He can't get away with as much for some other people as he can for Gooey and the animal friends, and they know it.

Marx isn't very well liked by some of the other dream friends. In fact, aside from Gooey, Rick, Kine and Coo, the only other dream friends that Marx is actually friends with are Magolor, Daroach and the mage sisters. The rest don't really like him enough to consider him a friend. Some of them even find him to be rather infuriating to deal with.

The animal friends, especially Coo, will usually get Marx to stop messing with the dream friends that can't stand him. Magolor also does this, and thus the animal friends have even talked with Magolor in making Marx leave certain people alone.

Gooey doesn't really act to stop someone from doing something, but even he can give a sad or disapproving look if he thinks that Marx crosses a particular line. That can actually get Marx to behave.

But despite Marx crossing the line for certain people, Gooey and the animal friends still ultimately like him. They, along with Magolor, are just trying to get him to work on becoming a better person over time while they still do some sillies and funnies with him.

They still think he's hilarious as all heck! They do admit he's not always easy to deal with, though. But ultimately, they like him a lot and they were glad that Kirby introduced him to them. Marx likes them a lot, enough to where he'll actually listen if they really want him to improve on something, as he will try for them.

Admittedly, it does freak these guys out that Marx is capable of splitting himself in half and summoning a black hole. They are, however, easily entertained by all his other Nova powers.

They've learned more about clockwork stars thank to Marx, even if they generally don't bother leaving Popstar for the most part.

Marx is generally 'homeless' as he never has a set place that he sleeps in, as he doesn't always even sleep somewhere in Popstar. But there are times that he might sleep under some random tree that's not far from the Dream Land forests that Gooey and the animal friends consider to be their home. It shows how much he likes them.

That's basically all I have for how I interpret Marx's interactions with these guys. They're his friends! I think he actually fits with them pretty well. I know a lot of people interpret "wave 3 + Marx" friend group but I honestly prefer to have Marx stick with his own wave, even if I still find Magolor to be something of a best friend to him.

I'm aware that the animal friends don't really have a lot of canon personality. I headcanon that they're all pretty silly to various degrees. Silly enough to consider Marx their friend. Gooey on the other hand is probably happy enough to welcome anyone as a friend!

Thanks for reading, I plan to make a big general headcanon post for Marx, but for now you get my interpretation of his dynamics with Gooey and the animal friends. Basically covering all of wave 1, with of course including Nago, ChuChu and Pitch since I'm well aware that they are not actually dream friends.

See you for the next one!

[bewareofdeaddove]

hello! since this is a discourse blog, introducing myself isn't a priority, but i'll do it anyway.

you can call me whatever name you want on this blog. i'm a minor. i use it/its pronouns. i will provide tw tags simply: no "tw" or "cw", just, for example, "blood" or "queerphobia". please block tags you're uncomfortable with!

i have no dni; i believe in fostering open and good faith discussion on this blog, as that's the point of making it! telling me to kill myself will get you blocked.

as a quick tl;dr before i conveniently list out some of my opinions: i am against harrassment and censorship, and i don't care what people decide to write fanfiction about or draw.

i am wholly against any form of harrassment. this includes calling people pedos for fictional ships, telling people to kill themselves, and anything else. if you really hate someone's posts, complain in private with your friends like everyone else does, don't harrass people.

i am wholly against censorship. media, no matter how bad or "irredeemable", always has a right to exist. all art has inherent value.

i don't judge people's morals over fictional content. as long as whatever you're posting is tagged properly and can be blocked if neccessary, it's not my business.

fiction and reality are not equal, but do have some effect on each other. i, of course, have issues with trends in media that, for example, downplay abuse and sexualize/"adult-ify" teenagers, but fanfiction is, like, the very end of that chain. it doesn't affect anyone. because of that, i don't care about it.

i don't care what you make if it doesn't hurt anyone, but being a bigot in your fiction does hurt people. the way people behave towards fictional characters, i.e. racist comments towards characters of color, can still be bigoted. it doesn't hurt the characters (obviously) but it does hurt real people, and that's where i draw the line.

i only have an issue with fanworks when they begin to perpetuate actual, real-life bigotry. this leads into my next point...

what are your personal limits regarding fiction?

aren't you basically pro-ship, then? well, yeah, i guess. i don't identify with the pro-ship label for many reasons, though. most of all, though, i don't want people to put words in my mouth; i have no desire to be called a pedophile because of the pro-ship label. i have no desire to have people assume that i want terrible things to happen in real life over internet discourse. i will never tolerate these accusations, and i don't use the label in order to avoid the possibility. you can call me whatever you want, though.

i don't particularly like anti-shippers. this is mostly from experience. i have been deeply entrenched in anti-ship communities, and i have come to only think one thing of them: the people themselves have good intentions, but the mindsets they foster are incredibly harmful. i'm open to discussion about this.

i avoid anti-shippers because of their tendency to harrass people, also. like... big tendency. community-built-on-the-idea level tendency. pro-shippers also harrass people, which is another reason i choose not to label myself as one. this i know from experience.

as a general rule, i am uncomfortable with:

shipcest

minor/adult ships

lolisho content (i have complex feelings on it, but i'm just uncomfortable with it as a whole and ask that it not be brought up with me)

rpf, but i only draw a hard line at rpf of minors and generally tolerate everything else, however begrudgingly.

i am fine with:

aging up underage fictional characters

selfcest (although i usually call it selfslash for comfort)

"rpf" of fictionalized versions of real-life people, like idk, hamilton characters.

just about anything else, honestly. we'll see about specifics.

in addition, my boundaries for this blog are as follows:

i will not respond to anon hate, including anything with death threats or anything accusing me of, like, being a pedo.

i will try not to reblog from people who have neutrals in their dni (as that's what i consider myself), but i don't really check dni pages, so i might make mistakes in that regard.

i will not reveal personal information about myself to justify my opinions.

[kalcifers-blog]

I'd like to know your head canons on JBM, plus, how would Marvin react when they figure out that homophobia/transphobia exists?

Starting off with Marv, they'd mostly be like "???????? H u h??" In response to that because it just doesn't sound real to them tbh. Like "it's literally none of their business why are they so mad??".

NOW FOR JBM HCS.

- Jackie's HOH/Partially deaf, and uses hearing aids, he developed hearing problems in his childhood (around age 10) and uses BSL (my newest version of JBM is British-Irish)

- Jackie is the youngest out of all the egos so to everyone (except Marvin) he's seen as the younger brother/son figure

- Jackie's powers are a direct result of IRIS experimenting with Anti-Matter. He doesn't know this but he was specifically chosen to one day be the person to put an end to Anti's reign, but the experimentation didn't go as planned and Jackie was essentially cast aside (some IRIS workers were genuinely considering killing him so their work isn't revealed to the public).

-Carrying on from the last note; Jackie's powers can look extremely similar to Anti's because of the fact that he was created with stopping Anti in mind- meaning he has things like teleportation(however it's only in short bursts, think Hunter from The Owl House), an unnatural endurance, super strength and a level of control over electrical fields. One of the side effects is that his powers can occasionally become unstable if not regulated properly.

- Another side effect is the fact that he can't exactly die? Since his powers directly correlate with Anti (yk the guy that's literally in a "dead" body 24/7) his "healing abilities" arent the fact that he's healing it's that his body naturally works on injuries faster- meaning it would take something that would kill him instantaneously for it to actually work- otherwise he will eventually come back from it (also the healing doesn't mean he can't get scars anymore, he still gets scars from any injury he attains) and yes he does still feel pain

- Ever since he completely cut ties with IRIS, he out right refuses to use his powers as much as he is physically able too, sometimes he's unable too due to the fact that they are tied to his well-being and can come out during outbursts or moments involving high levels of stress, anger etc.

- his eyes used to be grey before everything happened, now they're extremely bright blue- he doesn't exactly hate it but it still catches him off guard to see them sometimes

- Most of his "hero" work isn't technically the stereotypical stuff a hero would normally do- but it's still very important that he does. He very often goes to protests and volunteers at places wherever he can. He doesn't consider this hero work either, just stuff he wants to do to help out where he can

- The man is an extrovert to his core, he literally will be making friends literally anywhere and half the time the rest of the egos are just like- "what the fuck???" Because none of them are extroverts.

- I think Jackie took a lot longer than Marvin to fall for them than they did. Mostly because mans got horrid issues regarding to letting people seeing him be vulnerable, and it's only when Marvin makes it extremely clear that they're safe to be around that he ends up slowly falling for them. He also admires how they don't particularly care about anyone else's opinions and values taking care of themselves over conforming into what any society says you should be.

-this ones pretty obvious but Jackie is 100% punk

- his day job is being a freelance artist and guitarist in a punk band. He also part times as a bartender (THE MANS IS BUSY AS SHIT.)

-he obviously mains as a guitarist but he does also know how to play bass and drums (he's had to step in for his other band mates occasionally)

THATS ALL FOR NOW!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK!! Please feel free to send in asks for headcanon lists I love seeing them!!

[indigo-ra]

HOW TO HAVE AN ANIME ADVENTURE IN SECOND LIFE✨

If you're anything like me, you probably don't know WHAT you're burning your time doing in the metaverse other than spending too much money! The allure of it tends to grant just enough freedom of choice to make the average "ready-player-one" type, bored of the subjective (open world) nature of autonomy instead of objective (goal oriented) game play.

In-game Interaction depends on the goals of each individual player. However, in a space as antisocial as Second Life, that can be challenging! Most metaverse residents tend to keep to themselves, which can make finding friends or romance frustrating. However lonely Meta life could seem after 13 years without anyone to call a true friend in-game, SL photography became a medium for both my artistic and narrative expression to sharpen my digital art and storytelling skills. Eventually "To have an adventure and tell a story" became the only two reasons I wanted to log on! For years where I'd only dabbled in exploring the mysteries of the metaverse, I'd finally found my true purpose in game also aligned with my goals and development as a constantly evolving graphic designer, illustrator and Bodhisattva.

As a result, over the years, I've developed a few preferences for how I conduct my affairs or (narrative) in SL.

Reputation matters!😆But not really. Everyone pretty much minds their business in Second Life, but as massive as the world map is, it's also a small world. Reputation is easy enough to spread when it's chaotic, but what about lawful? And why does it matter?

On some tabletop gaming level, I apply certain aspects of identity to my Avatar. For example my alignment ranges a sliding scale between "True Neutral" and "Chaotic Evil"

Establishing a plot doesn't necessarily have to be consistent, but personally, for me, it obviously makes more sense in sequential order, since it is a "life" to observe; which makes the story unfold in a natural way that doesn't necessarily require fiction to fill every plot-hole that may come up.

The main "problem" with telling a consistent story that involves your avatar as the protagonist is refining their moral character and narrative consistency. All the themed varieties of Marketplace content available in the metaverse can make this a daunting task if you are indecisive on a theme. For example; It's too inconsistent to be a Steampunk Airship Captain in the daytime and a Billionaire Cyborg Playboy at night. But depending on any man's inventory, those ideas can stretch the imagination's possibilities into a sinking quicksand-box of inconsistencies.

I've been "Out-of-order" for almost a year now in terms of digital art. Art is my life, so I obviously miss doing it, but mental illness is the majority leader in the "hemo-goblins" that have the audacity to open their mouth to explain to ME, that I "...quit doing art because I just don't want to do it anymore." And explain to everyone else that it's definitely NOT because of lack of clean and safe facilities (wifi or an electrical outlet that isn't daisy chained with extension cords to explode). I bet you wonder how anyone could misinterpret the difference, but my Mother has a "gift" for gaslighting everyone to believe that she believes she's right. If you assert a fact or an educated opinion of your own, she will say she isn't finished talking, even from a full-stop dead silence 🤐

Anyway, while I am obviously missing the artistic productivity of my Second Life activities, life does go on; and though I haven't had the opportunity to update my SL adventures as of late, I have come up with a guide for the average poor, bored, yet creative player that has been left behind to entertain themselves without me! 😭

If you have friends in SL these prompts can be adapted to include them, but for the most part, I came up with these suggestions for the Lone wolf 🐺 like me to add interest and narrative to your photography. I hope you enjoy them!

10 Ways to Have an Anime Adventure in Second Life:

1.)📖 "The Journey is the Destination"

Think about the beginning 5 pages and the final 5 pages to your lifestyle narrative (a chapter or an age in time) and outline these plot points first to build a foundation to open up the life² plot into a saga.

2.)🏝️ "Desert Island"

Choose 5 items from your inventory that you absolutely cannot live without. Write about surviving isolated with these things on a desert island of your choosing, for up to a month.

3.)🔮"Curios"

Choose the most bizarre or Magical item(s) that defy explanation (or possibly even logic😂) in your inventory to make up an adventure story completely surrounding unlocking the functions of the object, how you found it or it led you to meet friends, lovers, celebrities, etc... for the first time!

4.)🧳 "Enthralling²Travel⁴"

First, think about to where you are going, then what for? On the one hand we have a variety of 6 transportation methods: 🚘⛵✈️🚂🐎🚀; on the other hand, 6 reasons one would travel so often, like: 🍝👠🗼🏘️💔🪖 Using a pair of dice align each numbered side with an attribute. Roll the dice and plot the photo journey!

5.) 🥀"Horror vs Reality"

Elimination is essentially the name of the game. Choose 5-6 weapons from your inventory OR a simple elimination gift like the🌹rose from "The Bachelor", then, choose a matching number of characters (anime, game, or real friends if you have them.) Draw playing cards for each character's elimination order via Reality TV by gift or Horror flick by unique weapon!

6.) 🏁 "Drag Racing"

Technically, racing is available as a secondlife hobby, though not by very competitive rank. What I'm proposing, is, if you need your GTA and Forza needs for speeds met, as a truth or dare contest, SL residents can drag race for clout! The loser has to take a photo of the winner's car looking cool OR write about the legendary defeat in their profile bio for a week at a time 😂 (to promote the winner's reputation.) Photo documenting your wins are great for growing your local SL reputation, but even cooler when your legend drives fear into the hearts of your "Xbox lives matter" playmates.🤣

7.)🛅 "Lost and Found"

Choose an artifact (tech or magical item/object) from your inventory. Write about Finding it OR Losing it mysteriously and journey around it to meet new friends of the realm (animals, creatures, monsters) while unveiling its origin and discovering it's mysterious powers!

8.)🦸🏻"Play Vigilante"

Take a generic disaster survey of a random (yet interesting-looking) sample of people. Whether they answer your riddle or disaster question correctly OR wrong, flip a coin to decide IF, then, HOW you would save them. Depending on the calamity in question and the answer of the person, how you would save OR abandon them is the narrative builder; and, as the plot thickens, so too does your moral alignment chart!

9.)😳"Ecchi"

Ecchi is, plainly put, fan service; therefore, not very plot driven. However, through these exercises I'd like to excavate plot from the desolation of Anime and scantily clad SL thots everywhere! First, choose any backdrop set at Backdrop City. Alone, or with help from a friend, take turns filling in mad libs or finishing each other's sentences in how utterly ridiculous a sexual encounter or overtly perverted scenario would unfold in that setting. The more ridiculous, the better! For the most extreme and amusing final product, think about "How to explain cheating if you were caught red handed!"😆

10.) 🤤"Hentai"

Hentai, or anime porn, also has about as much plot as your average porn intro. So with regards to addressing the challenge of making character development and arcs that revolve around a well-adjusted individual, it's not possible, because the themes of Hentai are generally depraved!!!! Choose from categories of Hentai (netorare, shota, futanari, femboy, ahegao, etc...) OR between a few deas of taboo (Adultery, rape, incest, beastiality, necrophilia, pedophilia, snuff) and cross them to minimize their seriousness. Add a perilous downfall of cascading failures if "the others" found out OR *include* the ripe delusion that *you* could NEVER fail; and it's nearly impossible to break, until, the delusion is broken with sex. An example of minimizing two taboos by crossing them is pedophilia and bestiality=a kid with cat ears and sharp teeth, so you don't feel as bad for dehumanizing it. Obviously this is for fictional narrative purposes only, but for the abstraction of what makes Hentai fun, instead of horrific, take these elements for storytelling into account!

And remember to have fun! But not too much, because it *is* Second Life. Fly that freak flag quietly.

😁

[leastrife]

Elemental and Zootopia are the same movie

Why Zootopia and Elemental are not the same movie

Setting:

The setting in the movie Zootopia is obviously, Zootopia. In Zootopia all the animals are meant to live in peace. Zootopia also seems to have technology more like what we have in modern day, cell phones, tv, radio, cars, parking meters, etc.

However, in the trailer we hear Ember’s grandmother state that elements don’t mix, and we can see that holding definitely true for the fire people who, aside from Ember, we don’t see anywhere else except in the place for the fire people. We do see all of the other three elements mixing however but for now we can’t explain why as the movie isn’t out yet. In Elemental the setting also seems more fantastical. While there is technology, it’s more futuristic, and we don’t see anything like cell phones or tv’s and such.

Already it’s clear the two settings hold the idea of a city for everyone, but Zootopia is built for all the animals to live and work together while in Elemental it seems it holds more to an idea of segregation among the elements. So similar but there’s plenty more that’s different.

NOT THE SAME

Characters:

Judy Hopps wants to make the world a better place no matter what anyone tells her, and she isn’t going to try and be what everyone expects her to

On the other hand, Ember as we see in the trailer is trying to be what her father wants her to be even though it’s not necessarily what she wants, but she’s expected to take over her father’s business so that’s what she’s going to do

I’m going off the assumption of American gender stereotypes that when people say it’s the same movie they’re going to be comparing the two female characters to each other and the two male characters, but even I paired Ember with Nick, and Judy with Wade, news flash, still not the same characters.

NOT THE SAME

Wade from what little we know about his character from the trailer, he appears to be a sweet character who seemingly helps Ember see more of the world throughout the film. He seems gentle and sometimes nervous.

On the entirely opposite side of the spectrum we have Nick, the sly fox who doesn’t let anyone see that they get to him. He’s quick on his feet, clever and charismatic, traits that Wade most definitely does not exhibit in the trailer

NOT THE SAME

Storyline:

Zootopia is a buddy cop movie. Underdog cop trying to prove herself teams up with a shifty low level criminal to solve a police case.

Elemental is not a buddy cop movie. I can’t determine the exact genre yet since so far it is still only a trailer, but it seems to be more about bringing the elements together or rather bring the other elements and the fire elements together since from at least my own little theory I’ve pieced together from the trailer I believe that it was true that elements do not mix for a long time, but since we see wind, earth, and water all living together it looks like those three elements broke down that rule, but they left the fire elements out of it because they feared they’d be destructive. The plot is so different from Zootopia, and the character development will be very different because as I said before the characters are not the same.

In conclusion it is not the same movie.

I’m not actually upset or anything about people saying it’s the same movie and I wrote this mostly for fun, but also it might hype a couple people up for Elemental which I’m actually excited for since it honestly looks way better than some of Pixar’s recent original films. And honestly I can see why people are saying it’s the same movie, but honestly if you watch the trailers you’ll see the two stories are very different.

[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.”

[michelle-is-writing]

Family Matters, Greg House

Word count: 1.7k~

In the time I’ve worked at Princeton-Plainsboro teaching hospital, some might say I'm the bubbly doctor in our group. Although I don’t know how true this might be, I do know everyone can agree I'm definitely more bubbly than doctor Gregory House, but that's for another day to discuss. I'm usually the one people send in to try and cheer up patients. Because of this, I mostly work in the pediatrics ward where young, sick children are. Sometimes, I have an easy time talking to the kids and making them happier, and sometimes, I don't; usually, when I'm upset, I have a hard time.

Right now, I'm having a very difficult time.

A young New Jersey girl at the age of 11 had developed mastoiditis, an infection that affects the mastoid bone above the ear and is typically caused by a middle ear infection. Usually, this all clears up, but sadly, this infection had grown to be so bad that the girl ended up with only twenty-three percent of her hearing left in the one ear. Although this is the case, I'm not having a hard time because of the girl's loss of hearing, no.

I have my own problems at the moment.

Since I'm working in the children's ward, I don't get to see Wilson or Greg as much as I want to. Despite Greg's tendency to be an asshole, he's still my best friend and not to mention that Wilson is the kind of guy anyone can talk to about anything. However, our schedules are all different, so, as I said: we don't get to see each other that often.

At least they're still in my life though. For my family, I can’t say the same. Recently, I've just lost the closest person to me in my family; although it wasn’t through death, but through immaturity and childishness. Because of this, all of my other family members have closed me out as well, causing me to be alone. With all of my friends busy and my family shutting me out, I have no one to talk to or enjoy time with... no one. I can't even get a boyfriend for Christ's sake, and it's not like the guy I have my eyes on actually likes me back. Greg is the type of guy you can easily fall in love with, yet at the same, you really shouldn't.

"Doctor (y/n)," the young girl by the name of Jessie states. Putting all my focus back on her, I remind myself not become distracted anymore today. This isn’t the first time, unfortunately. "Will my hearing ever return?"

I smile sadly at her and shake my head. "I'm sorry, Jessie," I tell her. "Your hearing in that ear won't return, but it's not a bad thing!" I assure her. She smiles in relief. "We can always get you a hearing aid, and that will help get your hearing back to normal again, but the wait might be a little long," I explain. "Is that okay with you?"

She nods her head at my question. "I'm okay with that, doctor (Y/n)," Jessie tells me, "I'll have my family help me until then," she smiles brightly. "You can always look up to your family, right?" She states, confident in her words.

Tears slowly rising to my eyes at the thought, I nod and quickly blink them away. "That's right," I tell her, still smiling. "And don't you ever forget it," looking toward her parents, I nod my head. "The discharge nurse will be here in a few moments with the papers. If you'll excuse me..."

Without another word, I quickly leave the room and walk as fast as I can to the nearest empty room. I prefer going to James’ office instead, but it's two floors away, and I don't want any awkward elevator trips. So, before I have a mental breakdown in the middle of the hallway, I find an unlocked janitorial closet before walking in and closing the door behind me, ultimately sliding down the hardwood door once it's shut.

Sitting on the cold, tile floor, I begin sobbing as quiet as I can, my hand covering my mouth. I already had my family drama on my mind all day, but for that girl to unintentionally throw it back in my face? That was the frosting on top of the already leaning, three-layer cake.

Tears stream down my cheeks like raindrops as I cry my heart out. I can tell my cheeks are red by the sensation of heat I currently feel on them; my hands feel it too. I'm crying so hard my chest begins to heave up and down as if I were having a panic attack. Oh God, I can't have a panic attack. Not here, not now.

Behind me, I feel two knocks on the door, causing me to halt. The only problem is: the knock wasn't above me, it was where my back is against the door. Remind you, I'm currently sitting on the floor. The only way someone can knock that low is if there is a midget behind the door there or someone used something like a cane... it's Greg.

Slowly moving up a little, I shakily open the door and let the grey haired man in, watching as he looks at me with pity. I've never seen the confident doctor House look like this with anyone. It's like a... a totally different Greg.

Sitting down beside me against the door, Greg drops his cane beside him as he sighs and wraps his arm around me before gently tugging my body close to his. Shocked, I tense up, tears no longer pouring out of my eyes. Greg never comforts anyone like this. He always makes fun of them or says something that many people take offense to, but he never... he never cares. He always brushes it off his shoulder, yet for some reason, he seems like he actually cares this time.

"What's wrong?" He asks, his voice deep as usual with no emotion.

I wait a few seconds before lying. "Nothing important," I tell him, my voice wavering from my scattered emotions.

Pulling me back to face him, Greg looks me in the eye before sighing again. "I know you've been crying by the wet tears on your cheeks, slight puffiness, and redness to your eyes, and fast-paced breathing - and I don’t even have to be a doctor to notice that," he breaks down my current state, lifting an eyebrow. "Now, are you going to begrudgingly tell me what's wrong or do I need to stay in here with you until you finally give in to all my unrelenting sexiness."

His comment makes me laugh, causing a grimace of a smile to fall on House's lips. Out of all of us, I've been the only one to do that. I've been the only one to break Greg's stone exterior and interior. Plus, It doesn't help that I like Greg romantically. I like the fact that he's confident and witty; he's not afraid to be himself. Although, he can still be quite an ass to others, but to me, he’s always been nothing but kind. Even when I first started working here, he was still patient and sweet - a rare sight to everyone else. It used to hurt me to think he’ll never feel the same way as me, but I’ve gotten so used to that fact that it doesn’t even bother me anymore.

"It's just... my family," I explain, Greg pushing my head back onto his shoulder as he holds me. At this point, I'm not shocked by anything he does. The infamous doctor could be high for all I know. He probably took a few Vicodin tablets before coming down here now that I think of it.

"They've completely... shut me out," I explain, shrugging as I rest my hand on his shoulder. "They never talk to me anymore, they've blocked me in any way of even trying to talk to them. My cousin just sent me an email last night telling me that I didn't need to contact them anymore as they no longer wanted me in their lives," I close my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks. "Plus, I wish I could work with you guys again," I take a breath before saying the next thing. "I miss you."

A few seconds of silence pass before Greg leans down to my face level. Opening my eyes, I'm greeted by his own sapphire orbs, watching as he continually inches forward until his lips plant themselves on mine. Our eyes close at the same time in response to the touch of our lips, and they stay that way too. With my heart beating fast and a different fire in my cheeks, I instantly respond to his kiss while placing my hands on the sides of his face, feeling his hands attach themselves to my hips as I do so. We kiss until we have to breathe, both of us pulling apart simultaneously.

"They don't deserve you," Greg tells me, a little out of breath. "You are wonderful; a decent and kind human being, inside and out," he takes a small pause, flashing his blue eyes down to mine. "I never thought I’d say this, but… because of you, I think maybe not everyone is a horrible person and that maybe I can be a bit nicer a time or two," he then smiles at me, kissing me once more. "You have made me feel love believe it or not."

Smiling, I lean up to kiss his forehead before sitting back down and resting my head against his chest, my eyes cast upon him as he looks down at me. "You've also made me feel love," I confess to him, my voice shy. "I've grown to love you as well. You and your sarcastic comments and witty comebacks and your insults to apparent stupid people," for once, he laughs, making me grin. "I can't help but love it all."

After a few moments, Greg speaks up. "I know I can't be your entire family," he murmurs, holding me close. "But I can try to be your... your..." He draws on, clearly trying to come up with an appointed title for himself. After a few seconds, I giggle and cut him off.

"Boyfriend?" I ask, making him roll his eyes.

"I was going to say significant other," he argues, looking over to me. "The term boyfriend is so, well, childish," he complains, making me giggle.

Leaning closer, I peck his lips. "Good thing you have a childish mind," I tease him, pressing my lips to his one more time before he responds to my comment with something horrible or completely inappropriate. It is Doctor House we’re talking about, after all.

[ihatebnha]

"power hungry bakugo hero elite who abuses his power" 👀👀👀👀

STOPPP i'm embarrassed i used the word "power" in a sentence TWICE!!! but...

(warning: mostly abt bakugo and less abt you, abuse of power, dub con but it's mostly intimidation)

-

What was I was thinking was like... in a world where Deku doesn't get into UA, who is there to humble Bakugo? Who is there to redirect his anger, challenge him, forgive him?

In the ways that Deku (and only Deku) helps him come to terms with those parts of him, as well as the severe inferiority complex and perfectionism he harbors... what happens when that growth is taken away, and what kind of man are you left with?

Let's just say I don't think Bakugo gets any kinder. Or any more self aware. Or any less... arrogant. In fact, without a Deku, those part of him just grow and grow and grow until you're left with some kind of... tyrant.

He easily graduates at the top of his class and shoots up the hero charts. Opens his own agency quick, fills it with sidekicks even quicker. In the way that heroes do, he schmoozes with the commission, politicians, anyone who can make him rank higher, give him unquestionable status.

And in the meantime, he fights villains. And he fights villains. And he fights villains... competing with an equally callous Todoroki to eradicate any source of injustice... but also heavily enforce the status quo.

Obviously... he's successful. To the point where there's hardly any crime or quirk abuse left. But of course... then he just starts going for the low level fruit, the things that cops are meant to handle: people stealing to survive, vandals, minor infractions.

And when lawsuit after lawsuit rains down upon him... nothing ever ends up happening, because the government loves him so.

He wants more.

I think maybe... you're a paper pusher at the agency. Cute little secretary who draws up files or hands out medical supplies. You didn't really want to take the job, but now that the city is divided between heroes and everyone else... it is the safest place to be.

Bakugo, Dynamight, is the kind of boss who you see but never speak to. He's always busy in his own quarters, or out about on the strip doing... what he does. He passes by you occasionally, glances at you, and then carries on. Things are fine, work is fine.

Then your station is moved, your services are requested elsewhere. From a slightly lowly desk job to... working on the top floor?

(You stare at the email. It's titled "URGENT TRANSFER.")

Turns out, however... things aren't much different... just that your desk is now crammed into the tiny hallway to the side of Dynamight's office. One-way mirrored walls, his way.

I could waste more time talking about it. I won't.

Just that suddenly, instead of first aid and auto-correct, you're being asked to bring coffee to his office. Suddenly, your uniform requirements go from slacks and nice sneakers to short skirts and shiny shoes. Suddenly... you are being told to sit on his lap.

You could say no. You really could. He's a hero, and heroes, no matter how corrupt, are heroes; with enough self-assured goodness in them not to take from and violently abuse those they deem innocent.

Still, you can never bring yourself to utter the words, to turn away from the prowess behind each request, the glint in his eye, the warning.

("There's a lot of bad fuckers out there, you know," he says. His voice is raspy, and his eyes are dark. He sits, lounges, on his office chair like a lazy, jungle panther, his thighs spread, his head tilted back. "Be something good for me, will you, baby doll?")

And when he asks for you to kiss him, it's hard not to pretend that his mouth doesn't taste like blood.

[ddarker-dreams]

Yan Genshin / Being Their Darling.

Childe: 

The days of living a peaceful, quaint life will be far behind you. Childe doesn’t allow himself the vulnerability of getting close to many. He doesn’t care how bloody the road ahead to winning you is, as his hands have never been clean. All is fair in love and war, right? 

Childe will get his claws deep into your life before you realize what’s happening. Whether it be extortion or threatening, Liyue’s Fatui are at his disposal, to be used however he sees fit. He’d like to have some form of leverage over you as a backup plan if the regular attempt at romancing you is unsuccessful. There’s also an appeal to knowing you’re under his thumb.

Fatui underlings would be assigned on shifts to watch over you. Anyone that Childe perceives as “too friendly” (which he has a rather lenient definition of), is harassed at a later time to deter further interaction with you. The sudden isolation is unexpected, those who used to be close with you seem too frightened to look you in the eye. 

He wishes he had more time to spend with you. The times he does get to spend by your side are eventful, but not in ways you can appreciate. Childe is something of a pest by your side. He won’t leave until he feels you’ve given him enough attention, which is difficult since you always leave him wanting more. 

“Didn’t you know I had to work overtime to spend this evening together? Really, trying to lose me in a crowd... I’m almost insulted that you thought that’d work. Try that again and I might just have to tie you up. C’mon, don’t look at me like that, I’m just kidding.”

Diluc: 

Luxury and pampering at a cost of your autonomy. You won’t know of the latter until later. Diluc’s attention might even feel enthralling at first, Mondstadt’s most desired bachelor seeking you out is a deep honor if nothing else. Gifts are delivered to your residence, ranging from simple to extravagant. He doesn’t want to draw attention to himself at first, but it doesn’t take too much investigation to find who the gifts are from.

When you’re asleep at night, Diluc finds himself drawn to your residence while sweeping the city of Mondstadt at night. There’s a certain perch nearby that gives him access to your bedroom window. How the moonlight shines on your sleeping face makes his heart go wild, a sliver of a smile on his lips. 

Diluc is already a hard worker, but he pushes himself even further to cleanse the world for your sake. You become another unhealthy obsession and almost a reward for his efforts. The entitlement to your time and love creeps up on him before he knows it. For the most part, he can repress it, but that’s exacerbated by any advances on you. 

Overtime will grow more overbearing as these emotions rise to the surface. Insisting on walking you to places, helping with your finances, and even suggesting you quit your job altogether. Diluc makes it clear that he wants to take care of you but won’t say why exactly. To have you relying on him would be ideal, so that’s what he’s going for. 

“Your hesitation is understandable, but please give it some thought. Whatever it is that’s stressing you, I can handle, so that it’s no longer an issue. I’m more than capable of that.” 

Kaeya:

Underneath a meticulously crafted façade of friendliness are layers of cunning. For every step you feel you’re ahead, Kaeya is ten more. It never hits you until it’s too late how entangled your paths are. Everything was planned — months in advance, even — to bring about the result he desires. 

Operates more in the shadows before making a move. Ideal scenarios fall perfectly into place, painting a favorable picture of him to you. Leading monsters to areas you frequent, only to assist you in fending them off, even offering to tend to your wounds should you have obtained any. All the while having his signature charm on full display.

Kaeya desires for you to rely on him to an unhealthy degree. That way you’ll come to return his love, or so he believes, a bond formed under turbulent times. The coincidental eviction and offer to stay with him is a perfect example. When the world is falling apart, Kaeya is there by your side, extending a helping hand. Little do you know that it’s those same hands that manipulated these situations into existence. 

He’s done his homework and it shows. Every little accidental brushing over his hand over yours, amorous whispering into your ear, and flirtatious remark is designed to your liking. Kaeya mentions your interests in conversation, anything to warm you up to him. It works like a charm too, as you steadily let down your walls and let him in. 

“I’m staring? Oh, you caught me. Though, I can’t bring myself to apologize. It’s unreasonable if you think I could take my eyes off you, when you’re standing there looking like that. Ah... there’s that blush again. See what I mean?” 

Zhongli:

The unrelenting favor from Liyue’s Archon is suffocating. He has astounding wisdom on matters often left in the pages of dust-covered texts. He knows your family lineage and situation on an almost intimate level, recounting details that no one else should be privy to. You’ll get the sense there’s more to Zhongli than what he’s letting on. 

Zhongli will see to it that you have lots of free time (to be spent with him...). Any business-related ventures, whether it be filling out permits or negotiation contracts will be completed in record time. All he asks in return is to have dinner together. At the time, it feels like a reasonable request, if not a confusing one. Shouldn’t you be the one treating him after all his help? He looks uncertain when you mention this to him, like he hadn’t thought about it before.

Your family will likely encourage your relationship — even if you insist it’s strictly platonic — believing Zhongli to be an ideal match. His work ethic, knowledge, and cordial nature would be brought up to further convince you. They’d reason that should you ever marry, Zhongli would be more than capable of taking care of you (and them, by extension), for the rest of your life.  

He’s more than aware of this newfound grievance in your life. Zhongli believes that by earning the approval of your family, he’ll earn yours as well, so that’s where he started. The pressure surrounding from all sides might make you cave eventually. Until then, he will continue to present himself as a desirable bachelor. This methodology feels perfect, since any angst you may have won’t be directed at him, but your family instead. 

“So you think talking to them about it would only worsen the situation? While that makes sense, I believe I could be of assistance, should they hear it coming from me. I’m afraid I’ll have to insist this time.” 

[andtheydontstopwriting]

𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙨 -【Rodrick Heffley x F!Reader】- One-Shot

rating: pg

word count: 6.2k

summary: [y/n], daughter from a wealthy family from New York City, has been keeping her relationship with rodrick heffley a secret from her parents, though what happens if it’s brought up and her parents want to meet the secret boyfriend?

author’s note: here it is! hope you guys all enjoy it!! though i did want to let you know that i wrote this originally as a piece of work for my original character, which is why it is in third person! if you want to request anything feel free to!! once again, thank you for reading it!

keys: [y/nn] - your nickname

“I didn’t mean to tell them, [Y/NN].” Caleb spoke in hushed tones, as he attempted to prevent any outburst that he doubted would come from his younger sister, but it was still something that he felt that needed to be stopped, “But I’m sure neither you or Rodrick would exactly be thrilled if you ended up going to homecoming with David or Chad, and you know how dad-.”

 “Listens to you, yes, I do know that, Caleb,” [Y/N] began, though her train of thought was shooting off in a million different directions, “And I do appreciate you trying to stick up for my happiness, but now we have to deal with what comes with doing that.”

 It did not take long for Caleb to know what [Y/N] meant, because their father did bring it up in the conversation that started this whole situation. 

 “Father and Mother want to meet him.”

 “And I don’t know if I can teach Rodrick to have the manners and social know-how that we and whoever Father believes would be more acceptable.”

 “Maybe it’s for the best that’s the case, [Y/NN],” Caleb pointed out, placing a gentle hand on his 

sister’s shoulder, “Give yourself the chance to step out of the spotlight for once, your happiness is what’s important.”

 [Y/N] merely just nodded, because she knew that the standards their father placed on both of them were vastly different. Caleb could afford some level of security in the notion of not being worried about what their father thinks, because he does not have to work so hard to make their father happy. 

 This was something the teenager always had to grapple with growing up. Eventually, coming to terms with since she was the youngest, her future compared to her older brother’s was uncertain, unclear, and too many factors were up in the air: where was she going to college? What would her major be? What would her future career be? What sort of family would she have? Who would she marry?

 Whereas Caleb had his future planned from the moment he was born: attend an ivy league for business then take over the family company, marry a family friend/one of the daughters of their father’s business associates or a family that would be useful to merge with and have a family. It was always clear and never questioned, even when they were kids. It took little effort on his part to make their father happy, because the expectations were clear as day and never took a moment of thought to figure out.

 It was her burden to bear, and never had the strength in her to expect anyone to understand the judging gaze always cast her way, as if waiting for her to mess up or make a mistake to remind her of her failures no matter how perfect she appeared to the public eye. To her own boyfriend, even.

 And part of her subconscious wished it would remain that way forever. But life has a funny way of working out in the end.

 Her parents at dinner the same night her and Caleb conferred, they brought up having this mystery boy their daughter had been seeing secret over for dinner so they could have a chance to finally meet. [Y/N] had little say in the matter and the Saturday before Homecoming was agreed upon.

 As soon as she returned to her bedroom for the night, [Y/N] knew she had to bring it up to Rodrick as soon as she could if they were to have any chance of staying together after that Saturday. The week they just about had was not going to be enough, but [Y/N] still felt she had to put the effort into trying to teach Rodrick at least table manners her parents would expect. But perhaps even that was pushing it.

:~+~:

“Your parents want to meet me?”

 “Well, they did say they want to meet you, but I don’t think it’s because they know it’s you, Rodrick.” 

 Perhaps on their near nightly phone call was not the ideal place to tell Rodrick about the dinner, but it was the first instance she could get it out without her anxiety getting the better of her about telling him in the first place. It saved her having to tell him in person and save herself from seeing how he reacted in real time. 

 “And dinner was the best place for that to happen?” Rodrick questioned after a brief moment of silence and a familiar squeak of some springs faintly resounded into the speaker on his end. He must have 

 “With my family, yes,” The blonde confirmed, “With all things considered, with the holidays too far away and Homecoming approaching sooner, and they specifically said they wanted to meet you before the dance, a dinner is the only way.” 

 “Okay…” Rodrick trailed off, going silent for a moment, “When is dinner anyway?”

 “Next Saturday,” [Y/N] replied, though quickly added before her boyfriend could speak, “We’re gonna have to have etiquette lessons, Rod, so I can teach you everything that you’re gonna need if you’re gonna make it through the night.”

 “What do you mean etiquette, babe?” 

 “Like how to sit at a table, which fork and spoon to use and when to use them, what you can and can’t say, that sort of stuff. The basics.” 

 “Do you think a week is enough time to teach me all that junk?”

 “Luckily for you, you have a great teacher and someone who has been taught this stuff her whole life, I think something will stick.”

 “Alright, whatever you say babe,”

 “I’ll even help you get ready,” [Y/N] promised, though had to amend it with, “I’ll try to, anyway, I'll at least come over to make sure you have an appropriate outfit because t-shirts won’t cut it.”

 There was a clear groan of annoyance on the other end of the line before the teenager spoke, “You know I hate wearing ties, [Y/N], and I’m already pushin’ wearing it for Homecoming and not to church.” 

 “I know, I know,” [Y/N] sighed as she brought a hand up to her face as she stood from her bed to start pacing her room, “But it’s just for one more night than normal, Rodrick, I promise.”

 “And what do I get in return, huh?”

 “A girlfriend?”

 “Okay, yeah, that’s a pretty solid deal.”

 “So lessons start tomorrow, okay?”

 “After the band practice,”

 “After the band practice then.” [Y/N] confirmed as she sat on her bed once more, “Good night, sweetheart.”

 “Night, babe.” 

:~+~:

Okay, so the lessons did not go great, but they went about as well as [Y/N] expected. Teaching Rodrick how to behave and act as closely to the way she and her brother had grown up being taught was like pulling teeth, and much like chemistry, it was looking like nothing was sticking. And if anything was sticking, it was gone by the next day and they had to start over.

Meaning, come that fateful Saturday, [Y/N] could only hope that her very quick rundown of the basics, the true basics of what Rodrick needed to know the night before when she went over the Heffley’s house the previous night to get possible outfit choices ready and wrinkle free knowing the state of his bedroom and how clothes could be just...existing on the floor and if it was a process for her to find clean t-shirts of his to steal, then she figured the dressier clothes he owned were living the same way.

“What’s troubling you, little bird?” Her mother asked her daughter, as she had noticed that [Y/N] had been a little distracted in chopping the vegetables up. Not only that, she had been on edge since had left her bedroom that morning.

 “I’m worried about dinner tonight, Mother,” [Y/N] answered, shaking her head a bit to refocus her attention on chopping the vegetables.

 “I’m sure your Father will be on his best behavior, there’s no reason to be worried.” Helena spoke softly, reassuring her daughter with the soothing tones and having set the spoon down beside the stove top to go over and gently brush [Y/N]’s hair back, “Everything will be fine, little bird.”

 As much as [Y/N] wanted to believe her mother was right, that things would be fine and everything would go smoothly,she also had to remind herself of her father’s constant attempts to control her life, and everything in her life. That included who she dates and there had been plenty of failed attempts in the past because of this meddling, and [Y/N], for once, just wanted to be free of the constant puppet strings attached to her that her father controlled. 

 “Father’s best behavior is turbulent, Mother, you know this,” [Y/N] pointed out with a sigh, “Rodrick isn’t exactly what Father believes to be best for me, and I’m afraid if Rodrick says one thing he doesn’t like, that's it, we’re through.” 

 “Your father’s opinion does not always matter, remember that his say is not final-”

 “It’s been final before.” [Y/N] interjected, “Remember he wouldn’t let me try out for the cheer team?”

 “He’s just looking out for what's best for you, that’s all.” 

 After that, the kitchen was silent save for the sounds of cooking, because once more [Y/N]’s anxiety took over and Helena simply did not know how to comfort her daughter anymore. It was easiest to just finish dinner and then go get ready for it, adn say nothing else on the matter for fear of making things worse.

 However, just as [Y/N] was finishing up getting ready when she heard the familiar sound of an engine rumbling up the driveway. And gazing out of one of her bedroom windows that overlooked the front of the house, she saw the familiar van park in front of the garage.

 So that is a good thing, Rodrick managed to remember to get there early as she insisted numerous times upon. Not that much earlier than the time she said dinner would start, but it was something, at least. 

 Next came the issue of watching Rodrick getting out of the van. While he did dress the part, the part was also distracting her that she kept her eyes trained on him before he disappeared under the roof that covered the front porch. It was indeed a rare instance for [Y/N] to see her boyfriend dressed up, considering she never exactly went with the Heffley family to church on Sundays. 

 So it was easy to understand as to why she had zoned out, nearly daydreaming and ogling over what she saw from a distance what her boyfriend was wearing. Though before she could fully dive into the daydream, the echoing sound of the ring of the doorbell echoed across the house and it was enough to snap [Y/N] out of her head and she was quick to stand from her vanity, hoping to make it to the front door before her parents or brother could open the door.

 However, her attempts were in vain because of the delay it took her to stand and began the mad dash to the front of the house and the size of the home itself, and by the time she had reached the top of the stairs, she saw her mother already at the front door and as [Y/N] made her descent down the staircase, she heard what was spoken.

 “Ah, so you must Rodrick,” Helena spoke, though [Y/N] could get a hint of confusion from the tone used, which [Y/N] assumed was because her mother had recognized Rodrick from the couple times she had seen him before when she first started to tutor the boy, but that was not brought up when Helen added, “Come in, come in.”

 “Uh, thank you, Mrs. Clemens.” [Y/N] heard Rodrick speak as she continued her descent down the staircase, smiling to herself because at least something else stuck: always use formalities, never call my parents by their actual names. 

 As soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she was met with a beat of silence and then Rodrick saying without much hesitation, “You look beautiful,” 

 A dust of pink appeared on her cheeks and she briefly looked towards her mother away from Rodrick, who looked between the teenagers before taking the steps towards the dining room, allowing the young couple a moment alone before the dinner began.

 “I have to admit, I know you hate getting all dressed up,” [Y/N] spoke as she neared Rodrick, reaching up to gently adjust the tie around his neck, “But I wouldn’t be opposed to you dressing up more often.”

 “There isn’t a chance of that happening, babe, you know that.” Rodrick pointed out, though a teasing smile graced his face, which [Y/N] mirrored.

 “A girl can dream, can’t she?” 

 Just as Rodrick was about to lean down to give [Y/N] a quick peck on the lips, he froze in his movements as he both heard a voice from down the hall echo around them and the fact he felt [Y/N] slightly tense up.

 “Ah, [Y/N], dinner is about to start, I expected you to be in the dining room already.”

 [Y/N] took a deep breath as she began to speak as she stepped to stand beside Rodrick instead, “Father, we were just heading there n-”

 “This must be the secret boyfriend, then, Rodrick, wasn’t it?” Charlie interrupted, which was something [Y/N] was used to by then, and held a hand out to Rodrick (another thing [Y/N] could see right through--the charm of a businessman), “Charles.”

 “Yeah, that’s me,” Rodrick said as he briefly glanced at his girlfriend to see what to do, before [Y/N] replied with a glance down to her father’s extended hand, which Rodrick took with a little too much fervor, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Clemens.”

 The energy behind Rodrick’s hand shake with her father was something that would not be much of an issue, but [Y/N] never had a how to shake a hand lesson herself, so it was overlooked when she was teaching her boyfriend what he would need to know. She was a girl, and the only thing she ever got on the subject matter was to be light and certain in the handshake, and that was all. So one look at her father’s face said all that she needed to know.

 It was already off to a bad start and they had not even sat down for dinner yet.

 Luckily her mother had called them into the dinning room before much more could already add to the poor outcome [Y/N] could start to sense coming already, no matter the words that echoed to counter the notion, hoping that things would look up from there forward.

 And for the first part of dinner, it was as her mind had hoped it would be, as everything went smoothly. Any questions her parents asked to Rodrick, it took a moment, but he was always to pull something out that also did not make him nor his family look bad. The looks shared between the Clemens siblings were a mix of relief and happiness as the dinner progressed, because the lessons and seemingly did in the end stick with Rodrick more than [Y/N] previously had suspected they did. 

 “So, what is it you want to do with your life after you finish up high school, Rodrick?”

 That was the question she was dreading, and one she was hoping for once her father would overlook and just accept that fact, move on that the future did not matter as much as the happiness of his children. 

 And the question must have also thrown Rodrick off for some reason, as he glanced once more at [Y/N] and in turn [Y/N] glanced at Caleb, a look of panic settling on her face.

 “I think the team has a good chance of winning the game next week.” Caleb brought up, “So Homecoming may be a celebration for that win, too.”

 “The football team has won every year the past several years, Caleb,” Charles pointed out, sighing as he set his fork down on the plate before him, “But that is not what we are talking about now, my boy.” 

 “The marching band is probably the best we’ve had in years, Father,” [Y/N] quickly added, clearly buying Rodrick enough time to try and find an answer to Charles’ question, “It’ll be worth going to the game for more than just the football team this year.”

 “[Y/N], I believed I asked Rodrick a question, so I would appreciate it if you would allow him to answer.” Charles said, his tone rising from calm coolness, to slight agitation as he took a deep breath to calm down once more, “Now, Rodrick, what do you want to do with your future?”

 “To be a musician.” 

 “Oh, a musician,” Helena tried to express some happiness in the discovery, “Are you in the school orchestra with [Y/N]?”

 “N-no, Mrs. Clemens,” Rodrick realized his mistake of bringing up the fact he wanted to be a musician, but at the same time, if he said he didn’t know, he was sure he and [Y/N] would be over then and there, “I’m in a band with some of my friends.”

 “What type of music do you play then?” Charles asked and [Y/N] and Caleb once more exchanged looks before [Y/N] looked to Rodrick once again. A look that said there was no point in lying about it now.

 “Heavy metal.”

 “Oh…” Charles began, glancing between [Y/N] and Rodrick, before his eyes landed once again on Rodrick, “That’s an interesting choice, have you not considered going to college or another career path?”

 “Charles,” Helena interjected, giving her husband a look from across the table, “Now is not the time.”

 “What?” Charles asked, clearly confused as to what his wife could mean, “What’s so wrong about getting to know the boy who my little princess is dating?”

 From there, Helena merely just shook her head and dinner continued in silence, The only sound was the clatter of utensils as they hit the plate. [Y/N] kept her gaze down at the plate in front of her, merely just pushing what food was left around on her plate. Though, at some point, under the table, she reached over to gently grab a hold of Rodrick’s hand. To which, Rodrick merely just briefly looked over to [Y/N] and the only thing he could really do in reaction to it, was to let go of the tension in his shoulders before attempting to finish the meal before him.

 As expected, her mother announced that she would go and get dessert not too long after, but it would be a few minutes to warm it up once again. So as [Y/N] stood to start clearing the table, her father also stood.

 “[Y/N], could I speak to you for a moment?” Was all he said before he started his way towards the office he had at home.

 [Y/N] knew what would come from this conversation, and she had to try to be strong this time. She knew that this conversation would be her dad trying to get [Y/N] to break things off with Rodrick--something she knew was going to happen as soon as her father brought up the question of what Rodrick wanted to do with the future. His dream was not to be anything her father expected the man [Y/N] to be with. And it was time for her to take her own life into her own hands after so long of being looked down upon and controlled by the plan her father had for her.

 “What is it you see in that boy, [Y/N]?” Charles questioned as soon as the door to the office was shut behind [Y/N].

 “I can assure you that Rodrick is someone with more than meets the eye, Father.” [Y/N] answered clearly as she rose to stand up a little straighter.

 “But you are aware that he is not ideal, don’t you?” Her father spoke as he folded his arms behind his back, taking the strides to stand in front of his daughter, “You should be with someone like Edward Vill or Chad Danford. Not someone who you met tutoring, and someone who believes his heavy metal band will take off.” 

 He waited a moment for [Y/N] to speak, but all she did instead was lower her head and folded her hands at her front, so Charles continued, “All you have to do is end things with Rodrick and your future already looks brighter, my princess.”

 “That’s your plan for my life, though,” [Y/N] pointed out, her tone quieter than she wanted it to come out, but she soon found her confidence once more as she added, “For once I want to do things my way, so with all due respect father, I don’t think I will break things off with Rodrick no matter what your standards are for me.”

 “The standards I hold for you are meant to ensure you have a future.” Charles began, using a variation of the same speech [Y/N] heard time and time again, “As you know, your brother will take over the company, so I just want to make sure your foundation is strong in whatever ways I can provide. You’re young, you know little of how the world works.”

 “Have you not realized that in trying to live up to your expectations, I’m putting my own happiness at stake?”

 “The real world knows nothing of individual happiness, [Y/N], success is the only thing that will cultivate any sense of the word.”

 “I’m doing my best as I am right now, and then some, trying to gain the success you wish from me,” [Y/N] finally lifted her gaze up, though the tears starting to well in her eyes as soon as she did, looking at the man she called father, but had not felt like one in years, “But even with all that I have accomplished and juggled since we moved, you still think I’m a failure, and nothing I ever do is right.”

 “There’s always more, you never have to stop working and aiming high.” Charles’s voice began to rise once again, “And being with that boy is going to prevent you from doing such.” 

 [Y/N] shook her head just as the tears started to fall from her eyes, “I’m done trying to be what you think I am, because I’ll never be good enough for you.”

 “Young lady, you listen-” Charles began, but [Y/N] was quick to interrupt for once.

 “No, I’m done listening and following whatever it is you say for me to do, I’m choosing my happiness for once, which means I am not breaking up with Rodrick just because you do not approve of him.”

 And while Charles attempted to persuade [Y/N] otherwise, he did try to get her to understand why he does what he does, but [Y/N] was not having it. And despite his efforts to also get her to stay, [Y/N] was quick to make her leave, knowing if she stayed any longer it would turn out uglier than it had already become. And they did not need that to happen.

 Instead, [Y/N] tried her best to compose herself, keep herself together, as she went back into the dining room to get Rodrick. She did not need her brother or her boyfriend doting on her immediately, and she had to stay strong as she left the family home because she could not afford any more signs of weakness. 

 Though the soft hand on Rodrick’s shoulder and her quiet yet slightly quivering voice as [Y/N] asked, “Can we leave now?” was all Rodrick needed to have to know things did not go well when she talked with her dad, but he didn’t know what was discussed. 

 “See you around, Caleb,” Rodrick said before he stood from the dining table and [Y/N] was quick to grab a hold of his hand to walk out of the house. 

 “Young lady, you stay in this house or you’ll be grounded for the rest of your life!” She heard her father call out as he was approaching the foyer, but Helena was quick to hold him back.

“Charles, let her go,” She tried to reason with her fuming husband, “You two need some space right now,”

 [Y/N] shot a quick apologetic look to her mother as she grabbed her purse hanging by the front door before opening the large wooden door and stepped outside.

 “Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Clemens, it was real good!” Rodrick felt like he needed to say something before he shut the door behind him, and that was what happened to come out. Perhaps it was nerves talking and not filtering his thoughts that were not filled with concern for his girlfriend. And when they cleared the steps of the front porch, the boy was quick to make the steps to walk side by side, gently squeezing [Y/N]’s hand as they got to the van.

 As soon as everything was unlocked, and both were in their respective spots, Rodrick turned the noisy van on, backed up, and began the drive down the long driveway and back onto the street. [Y/N], meanwhile, just leaned her head against the window, staring mindlessly out the side view mirror and watched as the house she had started to call home grew smaller and smaller as they moved away from it, and she could see two figures standing on the porch but soon as they turned the corner onto the street, they were out of sight. 

:~+~:

Rodrick did not know what [Y/N] wanted to do, and she had been silent since asking him to leave her house. So he assumed it best to play it safe and drive around town as she calmed down enough to tell him what she wanted to do, or at least, he felt like she could answer when asked what she wanted to do. He knew by then to not push [Y/N], let her do things at her own time, because of his experience during finals last year and how she got so stressed out she shut down for a few hours. 

 Though after an hour of driving, from the corner of his eye, Rodrick could see that [Y/N] made an effort to lift her head off of the window and that was the sign that she was calming down and he made the choice to ask a question.

 “Wanna hit up the convenience store since we bailed on dessert?”

 There was a moment of silence, then two, then three, before Rodrick heard the defeated voice of his girlfriend come from her mouth, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

 And with that guidance and direction on what to do next, Rodrick complied and drove to the nearest convenience store. 

 The next thirty minutes or so of the evening for the young couple were spent attempting to rid themselves of the pain and sorrow of the evening that had happened earlier. Trying to be young once more without any burdens or cares. And with this attempt to change how the night progressed, came the night chill and while Rodrick was fine, [Y/N] was not. Luckily, or unluckily, Rodrick had left one of his sweatshirts in the back of the van--which was the unlucky part, because it was found in the back of the van and who knows when it was last washed. But it was better than nothing, so [Y/N] accepted it and was grateful it at least smelled of him--the cologne he started to wear more frequently, that is. Once inside the shop, they moved through the snack and candy aisles with careful thought and consideration of what they wanted, with [Y/N] clinging onto Rodrick’s arm, her head resting upon his upper arm as they moved through the aisles and made their decisions of what felt appropriate for the evening--for Rodrick, a bag of chips and for [Y/N] a bag of sour gummy candy, as well as a bag of chocolate to share between them, and went to check out. 

 They chose to just sit and eat in the back of the van, still parked in the parking lot of the convenience store, as it was easier than finding somewhere else to go. They also sat in considerable silence once again, the only sounds this time were the bags crinkling and the sound of the crunch of the chip whenever Rodrick ate one, side by side as close as they could be and eat with ease at the same time. 

 “I’m tired of trying to be good enough,” [Y/N] suddenly spoke, breaking the silence that fell over them once she had decided she had finished with her candy for now. 

 Rodrick, who had been in the middle of eating a chip when [Y/N] decided to speak up, was grateful that he had something in his mouth as it allowed him the time to process what his girlfriend just said and figure out what he was going to say in return. In the meantime, he set aside his bag of chips and shifted enough to reach out and grab a hold of [Y/N]’s hand.

 “I’m tired of tryin’, too,” Was what he apparently settled with, having never exactly been good at the whole comforting thing, “So we can be tired of it together.”

 There was no verbal response from [Y/N], but she responded to this statement by gently rolling her head onto his shoulder, her other hand also came up to start playing with his fingers after setting the bag of candy down. So Rodrick took this that she was listening to what he was saying, but wasn’t sure in what way.

 “Buuuut, one of the smartest girls I know taught me once that having two negatives together ends up canceling out the other, so we can just be tired together, instead.”

 With this addition, a breathy laugh was heard in his ears and a proud little half smile appeared on his face as he heard her voice once again not being plagued by anxiety, but simply by sleepiness.

 “I don’t think you understood that full lesson, sweetheart, remember how you almost flopped that test because you didn’t?”

 With her statement being made, Rodrick’s smile grew into a full one before he tilted his head to place a gentle but loving kiss to the top of her head, before he murmured against her hair, “But I would have totally failed without you, babe.”

 “We can just be tired together, Rodrick,” [Y/N] confirmed after a moment of quiet enjoyment of the moment, “And deal with all the teenage bullshit together.”

“Wow, did you just swear, babe?” Rodrick said in joking disbelief as he leaned away to look at [Y/N] head on.

 “It’s been a long night, sweetheart.”

 “My place?”

 “I don’t think either of our parents would appreciate us sleeping in the back of your van, so yes, your place.”

:~+~:

“Where have you two been?” Was what they were greeted with as soon as they arrived at the Heffley family home, “We’ve been worried sick!”

 “Sorry, mom,” Rodrick began, stepping in front of [Y/N] as he added, “We just went on a drive and stopped to get snacks, that’s all.”

 “Your mother called, [Y/N], and she was worried when I said you weren’t here, but I’ll go call her to come get you, okay?”

 “N-no,” [Y/N] began, the stammer in her voice stopped Susan from going to the phone in the living room, and Frank just looked at her confused, “I, uh, don’t want to go back home tonight, can I please stay?”

 “What happened at the dinner that made you not want to go home?” Frank questioned.

 “Just some family stuff,” [Y/N] covered easily, though she took a step to stand closer to Rodrick as she continued, “...Didn’t leave on the best of terms.” 

 “Oh, then of course you can stay, and we can figure this all out tomorrow, but I am going to call your mom back and let her know you’re safe, okay?” Susan said with a gentle smile and [Y/N] reciprocated the smile with a quiet, thank you, before Mrs. Heffley added, “You can sleep on the couch, after I make the call I’ll go get you a blanket,”

 “Can she actually sleep in my room?” Rodrick brought up, his tone rushed, to which both his parents gave him a stern look but before his mom could even get the answer of no out, he added, “I don’t want her to be alone after what happened, is all.”

 Susan and Frank gave each other a look, before they looked at Rodrick and [Y/N], and they caught the young couple glancing at each other and they saw the softest expression on Rodrick’s face they have ever seen on their son and once more looked back at each other.

 “On an air mattress.” Frank said, pointing a finger at the both of them, to which the pair nodded before Mr. Heffley turned to go get the air mattress from the basement. 

:~+~:

So [Y/N] never ended up sleeping on the air mattress. 

 She started out there, trying to do right by Rodrick’s parents since they allowed her to sleep in their son’s bedroom, which she could not be in past 8:30 on a school night usually. But sleeping in some of Rodrick’s clothes and with him only feet away, she was crawling in right beside him not even five minutes in of trying to fall asleep.

 When she awoke the next morning, [Y/N] felt a weight on her chest, and not the emotional kind. No, it was almost the entire dead weight of her sound asleep boyfriend sleeping over top of her, his head resting on her shoulder, his wild bed hair tickling her neck. She did not move him off or attempt anything, instead choosing to bask in this moment they rarely got to have and enjoy a quiet Rodrick for once, a version of him totally at peace. Gently, she started to run her fingers along his back through the t-shirt he was wearing, before the fingers of her other hand started to gently card through his hair, which only settled the sleeping teenager deeper into her.

 When he settled a little deeper into rest, this was when she had a slight struggle with breathing, and [Y/N] knew that she had to do what was usually impossible: waking Rodrick up.

 But luckily for her, she knew a solid weak point that often got him up if he ended up falling asleep before one of their tutoring sessions: tickling his sides.

 The action did not shoot him straight awake, but it was enough to shock his brain into making him open his eyes, and groggily lift his head up. 

 At first, it was clear he was about to settle back into the sleep he just awoke from, but before his eyes fully shut, they opened once more as he processed he was not laying on his mattress, but instead his girlfriend and the sleepy grin that appeared as he lifted his head once more and gazed down at her with half-lidded eyes was a sight [Y/N] would never get used to no matter how much she saw it. 

 “Good mornin’ babe…” Rodrick mumbled as he began to lean down to give her a good morning kiss too, before he was promptly pushed away with a gentle hand.

 “Your morning breath is atrocious, sweetheart,” [Y/N] pointed out with a quiet laugh, “It could kill.”

 “C’mon, you know I would never kill you, babe.” Rodrick pouted, “Now c’mon and give me a good morning kiss.”

 Rodrick instead kissed all over her face as [Y/N] kept moving her head to avoid Rodrick meeting her lips, but their playfulness was cut short as they heard Susan’s voice from down the staircase calling up to them: 

 “Rodrick! [Y/N]! It’s time for breakfast!” 

 And fearing that Susan would come in to check on things, the pair moved--Rodrick faster than he ever had in the morning--to get [Y/N] into the air mattress. It was a bit of a scramble and [Y/N] nearly tripped getting off the twin bed, but she had slipped under the throw blanket on the air mattress just as Susan began her descent up the staircase, and the teenagers pretended to be asleep.

 Until they heard the sigh and Susan making her way back down the stairs, their eyes were shut but the moment she heard his mother’s voice away from the attic door, [Y/N] quietly slipped off the air mattress and made her way back to Rodrick’s bed, where she leaned down to give his a soft kiss on the lips.

 “We should probably go down stairs soon, sweetheart.”

 Rodrick opened his eyes at the feeling and smiled up at [Y/N], who smiled down at him in return. 

 “I hate it when you’re right, babe.”

 It was this moment they both realized something very important, very pivotal.

 They both loved the other, and it was a somewhat scary yet exciting thought.

[mrpenguinpants]

Genshin: Roommate HCs [V1]

To be honest, I just wanted to ramble some more and let my brainworms take over. This is sorta late but Happy Valentine’s everyone! I was gonna post this earlier but this honestly took me a long time to write so I moved it to today. 

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. Seriously, as much as I love writing this non-serious fics. Why do you people like this?

—

Based off my ramblings with Keqing anon: Link

Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: University AU [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @kaechu @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife​  @dokidokisama @rokipersonal​@minakohasmanyhusbandos​ @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess​ @yuu-yuukurotsuki​ @hanniejji​  @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii​ @stanzastic @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​ @dai-tsukki-desu​ @thicmitten​ @nonniechan​ @htnicayh​ @genshins1mpact​ 

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Diluc

What? Diluc has a roommate? Did you blackmail him in living with you? Is that even possible? Did you throw yourself in front of his car because you needed someone to pay for your student loans and the easiest way was to file a lawsuit? In this economy no one would blame you. Diluc seems like such the self-isolated character that would murder his roommate in cold blood but in reality, he act’s detached from the world because he forgot how to socialize and he’s desperately trying to cover it up without choking. That or he’s trying to learn how to astral project. If he could drink away the pain he would but instead he buys 20 packs of grape Kool-Aid and injects it into his veins. 

Does not and will not ever have a normal sleeping schedule. You’ll wake up to him working, come back home to him working, and will sleep to him still working. His daily dose of Vitamin D is from the brightness of his screen rather than the sun and he’s filter feeding at this point. It’s concerning. He’s going to crumble and he’s bringing the world down with him. Through the power of tax evasion. But as soon as he needs to walk out into society, he pulls movie magic and looks like perfection. It’s both physically and mentally disgusting. 

He’s actually is a really nice roommate to have just so long as you give him space. Great cook and knows to clean up after himself. Though he does have crash and burn days where’s he’s completely out of commission. You could set the entire apartment on fire and he would sleep through it. The entire two weeks are dedicated to zombie eye marathons and then he’ll suddenly collapse and sleep for 46 hours straight. When he wakes up from his hibernation he’s the most groggy and nonsensical person. His life blood is coffee because you keep hiding the 5 hour energy away from him because, you know, life is enjoyable and those cancer bottles will actually kill him.  

“University sucks our money out of our bodies faster than our will to live.” 

Beidou [Happy Birthday Queen 💕]

Despite her appearance, she’s actually really strong and it scares the piss out of you when you’re doing something or scrolling through your phone mindlessly and you suddenly get your spine re-arranged when she slaps you on the back to ask what you’re doing. Likewise, when she hoists you up and throws you over her shoulder so you come with her on her 3am convivence store raids for alcohol. It’s either you change now or else we’re walking out of the apartment in your t-shirt and no pants self. She can and will carry you under her arm that way. It’s both incredibly attractive and horrifying at the same time. 

She’s really friendly and a great talker if you’re alright with her “I must hold you in my arms, fresh prince of bel air style”. It doesn’t matter if you’re taller than her, she’s doing it. She does however, get in a bit of trouble from her rowdiness and you often get noise complaints but Beidou just passes them off to Ningguang and everything is fixed. She has ovaries of steel when neighbors rather confront her personally and she’s ready to 1v1 in the parking lot. You’re trying to desperately hold onto her shirt to stop her from pile driving your neighbors for the third time this week but she’s too strong.  

She’s constant party until we die attitude and suffers the hangover in the morning. It’s actually really funny to catch her in her hangover moods because whatever filter Beidou had, which is none, is gone. She really takes “cursing like a sailor” or the next level and the amount of creativity she comes up with is actually impressive. She can be a bit messy but she’s really likeable and always down to go anywhere with you as long as you’ll do the same. It’s a very ride together, we die together situation. You’re my best friend, you’re dying with me. I’ll see you in hell. 

“Imma T pose over my dad and then crash the car into the parking garage.” 

Kaeya

Kaeya on the surface seems like such a chill roommate. And he is for the most part. But he’s such an ass. Your things are his things, no questions asked. If you just bought a really nice sweater or you had leftover food, that’s his now. He’s innocent until proven guilty even if he’s literally holding your lunch. The pure amount of bullshit he can spit out to convince you that no, he did not pull the fire alarm because he wanted an excuse for not going to work, puts him on Shakespeare level. He’s also very pretty, way too pretty, sir can you share some of your genes? 

But aside from that, he’s actually super dependable. You forgot something at home? Sure, he has nothing better to do so he can bring them for you. We’re missing eggs? No problem, he’s just by the store. You’re 95% sure that he just wants to be cheeky and make you thank him for 20 minutes before he actually hands you what you asked for. It’s better for you if you never tell him anything you’re afraid of because Kaeya has no social cues, or more like he throws them out the window, and he’s probably a psychopath. 

He’s incredibly private of his room and things despite his attitude towards yours. You’re convinced he either has a secret lab or that’s where he’s storing the bodies. I was the good guy but due to unfortunate circumstances, I need to stab a bitch. But he’s a really good serious talker for those 3am, because everything happens at 3am, talks about life and the meaning of the universe. It absolutely wrecks your sleep schedule but some of the things you talk about are the most crackhead things like what’s the lowest amount of money someone would have to pay you to walk outside without clothes? It’s a legitimate question. 

“Never before have I been so offended with something I 100% agree with.”

Jean

Okay, what world did you save in a past life to live with his absolutely wonderful woman? Mother Teresa take a load off, take a seat. You have nothing to worry about. She’ll bring home little treats back home and it’s the most wholesome thing ever?? Is this what love and affection feels like? We’ve been starved for so long. She says it’s not a big deal and anyone would do it BUT THE MOMENT SOMEONE BUYS FOOD FOR YOU. IT’S A MAGICAL MOMENT. They are forever stuck in your will until proven otherwise. An absolute ray of sunshine that must be protected. 

She does get super busy so you don’t often see each other or get to hang out as much. She’s a bit of a workaholic but a lot more easier to talk her into taking a break. She’s also a pretty decent cook but she prefers baking and jesus christ, girl can you calm down? Be still my beating heart, I’ve been smitten. Has mother hen vibes that you’re not sure if she’s your roommate or if she adopted you into her family. It’s time to start a petition for the Jean protection squad. Given the opportunity, I would aggressively hold your hand. 

She’s always open to whatever you want to do. Any recommendations or things that you like she will try out at least once despite her busy schedule. She’s lowkey lonely because work consumes her so any time you want to hang out or do something together, she jumps on it like she’s feral. She get’s a bit shy to ask if she can join in on your plans because she doesn’t want to bother you or intrude no matter how many times you tell her that’s okay, she still get’s a bit iffy about it. Please save this girl before she trips. In your arms. Platonically. Just kidding haha. Unless?

“I can’t wait to see you happy and not hating everyone again haha.”

Childe

First impressions of Childe were great, until he opened his mouth and you realized how much of a two brain cell child(e) he was. He has two braincells because they constantly have to 1v1 in his brain. He’s lived with a lot of siblings so he has no social awareness or concept of privacy that you’re lucky if you come home and he’s half-dressed. It doesn’t matter if you’re 2 weeks older than him, he’s going to call you 82 years old and why your bones aren’t being fossilized at this point. He’s such a little shit, this fucker licks the yogurt lid peel.  

He get’s really restless when he’s stuck under house arrest, because apparently 1v1ing in the parking lot of a Wendy’s is illegal for some reason, so he makes dying whale noises until he get’s to go outside again. But he’s actually a really wholesome guy, probably because of his younger siblings, that he’ll sometimes get you something because you seemed down and it’s such whiplash? Who is this man and where did he come from? You’re starting to have a change of heart before he tells you that he got banned from the library for accidently punching the school’s computer. How you “accidently” punch something you have no idea but Childe always comes home with some sort of injury. Maybe he’s just incredibly clumsy. For your sanity, you’re going to go with that. 

He’s actually so uncultured that it’s crippling. You can’t blame him too much considering his upbringing and it’s great that he’s so interested in learning new things but...child no...It makes you want to take your spine out of your ass and rip it like a Beyblade. Watching him take chopsticks and stab his food like it’s marshmallows makes you want to fall into a blackhole and let the chair consume you. 

“I, too, fantasize about beating the living shit out of people.”

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Is this another tag yourself game cause I resonate with Diluc. I’m crying in insomnia. As much as I enjoy writing these fics I absolutely hate tagging them. I remember I used to have a tag anon but that was back when I wrote for bnha. 

Valentine’s Day was fun tho. I had a drinking game with friends as we played league then ended it off with a movie night.