#but given that he said the words ‘it doesn’t look very good’ to the media. yeah king you’re right it doesn’t 😭

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Itcha gurl, back at it again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The doctor checks the chart then glances at the machine with your father’s vitals. Today, you’re father’s awake. He has been for a few days but today he’s alert. You know because he told you the jello was disgusting. Those are the first and only words he’s said to you in more than two weeks.

“You’re very lucky to have a daughter who knows what she’s doing,” Dr. Shearer remarks.

Your father grumbles, scowling as he doesn’t offer much else to the doctor.

“You must be happy to have her around,” Shearer continues, “it is time to start considering your discharge. You’re stable, breathing on your own again, your heartbeat is within a normal range.” You watch your father as he stares past the doctor. It’s as if he refuses to acknowledge that this is real. “You’ll have a few new meds to add to your day but with normal check-ups I think we can be optimistic.”

A grunt. You fold your hands and stand up, “thank you, doctor. Erm, could someone explain the new medicines to me?”

“Yes, of course. That’ll be in the discharge paperwork but I’ll have a Nurse Practitioner come to discuss with both of you,” he assures, “and some resources on quitting. The cigarettes can’t continue.”

“I’ll smoke if I goddamn want,” your dad snarls, breaking his shield of indifference.

The doctor gives him a sharp look but doesn’t argue, “I’m only here to diagnose and give me treatment suggestions. But you keep smoking, sir, and next time, you won’t make it to the hospital.”

“Good,” your dad sneers defiantly.

The doctor nods and his mouth seals grimly. He turns back to you, “let us know if you need anything else. We have some support groups and resources, I’ll make sure that info is also sent off with you.”

“Thanks so much, Doctor,” you squeeze your hands tighter. You want to apologise for your father but you know he’ll only get worse if you do.

“It’s alright,” Shearer says as if reading your mind, “these things are stressful. For everyone. Couple more days and he’ll be free to go.”

You try to smile but your cheeks can only tremble. The doctor leaves you with your father and you peek over at him. He grimaces at the ceiling.

“That’s good news, dad,” you say as you near the foot of his bed.

“Is it? You shoulda left me to die,” he barks.

You flinch, not once, twice. A chirp in your pocket further jars you as it shrilly erupts in the buzzing silence. You reach into the pocket of your hoodie and clutch your flip phone as it bings even louder. The little digital display shows the agency’s number.

“Sorry,” you apologise and flip it open, turning away to scurry out and answer, “hello?”

You hold your breath. Why are they calling? You didn’t have a job today and you only really get emails regarding clients. It must be very serious.

“It’s Clara,” your boss begins in her terse way. “Have you seen my email?”

She sighs, “you should be checking daily. Got a job today. You want it?”

You blink. This is the first time you’ve been asked to come in for an extra shift. You could use the money desperately. When your dad is discharged, he’ll be sent off with another invoice.

“Yes,” you accept without hesitation, “I’ll take it.”

“Great. Check your email. Details are there,” she sniffs.

“Alright, tha-nks,” your voice cracks as she hangs up in the middle of your last word. She must be busy, surely more busy than you, the lowest rung on the ladder she has to keep from falling over.

You close the phone and put it back in your pocket. You shuffle back into the room and find your father with his eyes closed. The machine continues to beep in time with his pulse.

“I gotta work,” you say, “that was my boss–”

“Then leave me alone,” he snaps without opening his eyes, “can’t you see I’m tryna sleep?”

“Sorry, I–”

“Go and don’t come back,” he growls, “I don’t need you crowding this shit hole.”

“Um, dad, I–”

He coughs and hacks and waves you off, swallowing thickly, “I said go.”

You dip your head down. You can’t imagine being in his position. Stuck in a hospital bed on the other side of near-death. You might not be very nice yourself.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I don’t care,” he turns his head and wiggles his shoulders as he tries to get comfortable.

You swallow down the hurt. You didn’t expect him to thank you for what you did. Not for anything. That’s just what you do for someone you love. Yet, you hoped he might have woken up a little bit nicer than before.

“Love you, Dad,” you murmur.

He grumbles. That’s all you get. You suck in a breath and hold it in, trying to keep from crumbling long enough to get out of that room.

🧹

At first, you’re not certain the information in the email is correct. You’re to return to Mr. Laufeyson’s house for the second time that week, but it’s a Friday night. In your days at the hospital, the calendar lines skewed between the alarms you kept in your phone for sanity. The return to reality is just as disjointing as the descent away from it.

You go home and change into your typical cleaning attire. All black. Plain. Clothes meant for getting dirty. Not that any of your wardrobe is particularly spectacular.

You grab your kit and your water bottle and rush out to catch the bus. You’re not used to being on transit near-dark. The prospect of getting home comes to mind as you cling to a pole amidst the crowded vehicle. It makes you nervous but you’re certain it will be okay. Mr. Laufeyson lives in a nice neighbourhood.

You get off the bus and bring your phone out. As you approach the house, it is lively with bodies milling in and out. You let yourself through the gate and peer over at the two cube vans near the front entrance. A white jacket, pristine uniforms, you can only assume they are some sort of catering company. The type you’ve seen on TV in those reality shows with women drinking wine.

You watch them for a moment. They are orderly and determined. What’s more, they work together in perfect harmony, words passing quietly and easily, trays moving smoothly between hands and set onto carts. It’s a shining contrast to your dim and lonely work.

You make yourself turn away and continue around the back of the house. You stop short of the rear corner and a gasp bubbles up. You watch a hummingbird buzzing over the bed of flowers. It’s so small and green and cute. You wince as it flits up towards the window, your cheeks bulbing to the smile as your gaze follows it. 

In a moment, it wings away, shyly retreating from your admiration. Your eyes fall to the window as you sense a shift on the other side. Just between the edges of the half-drawn drapes you meet a pair of green eyes over a long and cynical nose. Your smile dissolves as you recognise Mr. Laufeyson and his stony observation. You touch your fingertips to your mouth in self-reproach and tuck your chin down, turning back onto the path.

You go to the back door but it’s already unlocked. You let the handle go and linger outside. You noticed the email is shorter than usual. This isn’t your typical rote with Mr. Laufeyson.

‘Cleaner to be at standby for guests and cook…’

You glance down the paragraph. You’re to stay until after the ‘event’ so that you may tidy up. Your curiosity sparks but quickly fizzles. It’s best not to be too concerned. Just focus on what you need to do.

You let yourself in but forego the shoe covers and gloves as specified in the email. You hang your hoodie in the closet along with your kit. As you hook the strap of your water bottle over your head, a glimmer passes down the end of the hall and the lighting shifts. You look up as Mr. Laufeyson approaches.

He always dresses finely but he looks particularly put together. His hair is tidy and neat and he wears a velvet jacket in a deep shade of violet over a black collared shirt and matching trousers. His tie is narrow and blends into the fabric of his shirt. He keeps his hands behind him as he holds his chin up.

“I trust you understand your assignment,” he prompts as he stops a foot away, cornering you in the back hallway.

You nod. He tilts his head but his veneer does not break.

“Not that,” he points to the water bottle, “you may ask one of the cook’s assistants for a glass should you require it, but be rid of that ugly thing.”

“Oh–” you gulp back your voice and bow your head again. 

You untangle the trap from your torso and open the closet, tucking it away with your sweater and bag. You shut the door and find him closer than before, his hand on the door frame as he looms over you. His other wanders down the trim of his jacket.

“You are to keep yourself unseen. You tend to messes and that’s it. The rules remain. Are we understood?” He asks.

You look at him and nod. He sighs and stands straight, a deep breath rising in his chest. 

“You may answer aloud so I know we are clear,” he says.

“I understand, Mr. Laufeyson,” you eke out.

“Mmm,” his gaze lingers on you in unreadable consideration. Dressed in plain cotton, you feel wholly insignificant before him. “Go on, you will keep your vigil in the kitchen. They would require most of your assistance.” He backs away and buttons the front of his jacket, “you will not disturb my guests. Not a look, not a word.”

You know your turn to talk is over. You merely nod and he seems pleased by your deference. Not openly, he shows a hint of a smile nor does he praise you. But he is not unhappy and you know that is a feat.

🧹

The cook’s name is Corissa. She has spiraled red hair and pretty gold-green eyes. As you enter, she introduces herself and asks your name.

“I’m just here to clean,” you explain. “So if you need me–”

“Oh, hon, no need ta be shy,” she says in her wolfish voice, “we’re all in this togetha.”

You smile and stand against the wall, waiting to be told what to do next. She gives you a lingering glance but doesn’t comment. You see a question woven in her brow. She begins her work, directing her assistants at saucepan and cutting board alike, all while falling into a raucous rapport.

“Theo say ‘ma, did ya have ta tell that story?’” She cackles midway through a tale you lost track of, her hands moving expertly at her work, “and I say, ‘the gal deserves ta know, ‘specially if ya mean to burden her’.”

You bite into your lower lip. It’s like there’s an invisible wall in front of you. It’s been there your whole life. That one that separates you from others. You’re always on the outside watching. Just like in the schoolyard when the girls wouldn’t let you play with them. Or when your dad has his buddies over and told you to ‘piss off to your room’.

The first course is served on sleek black trays. As you watch the servers carry them out, Corissa calls your name. She makes you lurch in surprise as you’d be convinced you blend right into the plaster.

“Come have a taste,” she insists, “this one’s a bit mussed up.”

“Um, er, it’s okay, I’m not hungry–”

“Bah, come on, have some. I hate ta toss it in the bin.”

You don’t want to argue. That would be rude. So you come forward and accept the crumbly pastry with an ugly tear in the top, the filling bulging out.

“Lobster croquette,” she explains, “you’re not allergic, are ya?”

You shake your head and thank her as you back up to the wall again. You cup your hand under the misshapen ball as you bite into it. You could hum at the taste. It’s delicious and rich and savoury. You’ve never had anything like it. You’ve never even tasted lobster before.

“You like it?” She asks as you swallow your mouthful. You nod. “Quiet one, you.” She points at you.

You don’t answer. What can you say? You are quiet. You finish the croquette and go to dust the crumbs off your hand over the bin. You slide your foot off the pedal and let the lid drop. You take the cloth from your waistband and near the counter, going to work at tidying up the remnants of her work.

“Eh, look at you, busy little bee,” she chuckles, “I was gettin’ ta tha.”

“My job,” you insist.

“Maid,” a snap of the fingers draws your head up as Corissa sprinkles seasoning into a new pan.

Mr. Laufeyson offers only a curled finger. Your eyes round and cross to him, tucking the cloth into your pants again. He’s already striding away as you get to the door. You trail him, uncertain at what he needs. 

He leads you to the dining room, the garble of voices and clinking of glasses preceding your arrival. He enters ahead of you and claims the seat at the head of the table. The serves pass you with empty trays and you gape around in confusion.

“Oh my, look at me,” a woman giggles as she uses a cloth napkin to pat along her collarbone. Thin straps cling to her delicate shoulders as her skin glistens beneath the golden chain strung around her throat, “making a scene already.”

You see the wine glass on its side and hear the contents dripping onto the floor. You put your head down and hurry over. The dinner guests laugh and are quickly onto their next topic, about some coast they plan to vacation at once the summer comes. You try not to eavesdrop as you sop up the puddle of wine on the table and get down to wipe clean the floor.

As you do, you feel a tickle on the back of your neck. You don’t let it stop you. It must be an accident. You’re so cramped between the woman’s seat and the next that you must be in the way. The fingertips remain and brush more firmly as you hear a low, gritty exhale. 

You ball up the damped cloth and stand, daring a glance at the man as he draws his hand back into his lap. His broad shoulders make the back of the tall chair seem small and his blonde hair is twisted into a low tight bun. He guffaws loudly at the table, seemingly unfazed by his own wandering touch. It must’ve been an accident.

You back up and peer towards the head of the table. Laufeyson’s eyes are slits as he stares in your direction. Surely, he’s not watching you. You’re supposed to be unseen. Get out of there.

You retreat quickly, the din thundering louder and louder at your back, rumbling behind you into the hall. You wring the cloth, now stained and stinking of wine. You hope you didn’t upset Mr. Laufeyson, you only did as you were told.

[lauraneedstochill]

“All yours” (modern!Aemond Targaryen, college au, part 1)

🔥 part 2: First time for everything

author’s note: the idea came out of NOWHERE. I reread my The Greens (modern!au) — and then this thing happened. to keep up with the tradition I’m posting it as it is (I may regret it when I wake up lmao), hopefully, some of you can enjoy this silliness! ✨ • Aemond doesn’t lose an eye but he still has a big scar (let’s pretend Luke missed by a couple of inches) • I originally said that he’d be into sports however I’m yet to pick a sport for him so the description is very vague (I’m open to suggestions!)

words: ~3000 (I TRIED to cut it short... but alas)

warnings: none, I think? they just swoon over each other (and a cheeky blond makes an appearance again ;)

⋙ It’s impossible not to know who Aemond Targaryen is when pretty much every girl on campus has a crush on him. The tall athletic guy with chiseled cheekbones and bright eyes who wins one tournament after another, manages to stay at the top of his classes but barely talks to anyone and has a handful of friends. Even the scar on the left side of his face — a faded red stripe from his temple and down to the cheek — only adds to his appeal although you suspect it’s mostly due to people not knowing how he got said scar. Come to think of it, there isn’t much to know about him at all: he’s not on social media, rarely goes to parties, stays out of trouble and doesn’t even like his pictures being taken. There is a certain charm to that mystery yet you also can’t help but respect his intelligence and perseverance. (And you may find him attractive, but that’s a given.)

⋙ You share a few classes with him, and he usually sits nearby although you think it’s purely a coincidence. He once gave you his pen when you forgot yours, and he also sometimes stands behind you in line for coffee in the nearby cafeteria but you never really interact. You catch him looking at you a couple of times and you don’t think much of it. You might’ve thrown a glance or two at him, too, since there’s no crime in that.

⋙ You get paired up for a project by mere chance: your best friend fell sick and his mate missed the class for whatever reason so you and Aemond are the only ones without a partner, and Mr. Harrold tells you to work together. Aemond approaches you when the class is over.

“Hi” — “Hi” you say in unison. There’s a glint of a smile on his lips, his eyes studying your face.

“I’ve got two training sessions today, can we maybe start tomorrow?” he suggests.

“Sure, tomorrow sounds fine,” you nod. “Meet me in the library at 3?”

You quickly discuss the books you’ll need, and he casually asks for your number so you could text him the details. While you’re typing it, you miss the grin that appears on his face. Truth be told, you’re too busy thinking of how good his arms look with his sleeves rolled up.

⋙ The next day, he’s only five minutes late. You don’t even notice, wrapped up in reading, until he rushes in, a tad disheveled and very apologetic. You are about to tell him it’s no big deal when you notice blood on his hand — or more so on his knuckles. He looks like he wants to avoid the subject but you are truly shocked at the sight.

“Should I worry about the other guy?” you muster a smile, looking him over with concern.

“He deserved it,” Aemond mumbles as he sits next to you, averting his gaze.

He goes to dig some books out of his bag when you take his hand — you do so without thinking, it almost comes out as a reflex. While you examine his bruised skin, Aemond pretty much forgets how to breathe.

“It’s not that bad but will swell up in the morning, so you need to apply some ice,” you tell him, fingers gently brushing over his. “Here, this is the next best thing I can think of,” you grab your cup of iced coffee and put it to his knuckles. When you glance up at Aemond, you see him looking at you with a stunned face expression, and you realize that you might’ve overstepped a little.

“I’m sorry, you probably already know what to do without my advice,” you move to pull back the cup, but he suddenly covers your hand with his other palm.

“Don’t,” he breathes out. “This feels nice.”

Within a few seconds, his cheeks turn red.

“The ice, I mean, you were right about applying the ice,” he corrects himself, and you can’t help but smile wider. The most popular guy on campus is blushing because you held his hand, and there’s something very endearing about this moment. Or maybe it’s just him.

You push that thought away and divert the conversation to your assigned project. He keeps his hand intertwined with yours for the rest of the evening, both of you acting like it’s no big deal.

⋙ The next time you see him, he brings you coffee, and somehow he guesses your order perfectly. You meet up a few times a week, and he makes sure to come in time. Always prepared and polite, he buys you coffee regularly and insists on carrying all your books. You now sit together in classes, he shares his secret Spotify account with you and you learn that you share a passion for reading. Aemond also gives you his hoodie when he notices that you’re cold on your way out of the library one evening. He pulls the hoodie up over his head and his T-shirt comes up, too, exposing his lower abdomen and the tight lines of his abs. You take a deep, long breath, pretending that you didn’t see a thing.

And sometimes his hands brush yours and his gaze lingers on your face. But it’s another thing you try not to think of.

⋙ He mentions in passing that his training will get more intense as the competition season begins. At this point, you’ve been meeting for a couple of weeks pretty regularly, and you feel a slight twinge in your heart at the realization that you’ll see him less often. What you don’t expect is for him to stand you up. At any other time, you might’ve cut him some slack, but it just so happened that you are in a really bad mood since the moment you woke up, and him not answering your texts only rile you up.

You are so annoyed, you come into the locker room with little to no hesitation. Most of the guys already left but you still hear a couple of them whistling at you, and you flip them off. Aemond just got out of the shower and when you see him, he already has his jeans on and stands next to his locker searching for a clean shirt.

“Dude, your girl looks pissed,” one of his mates comments, and Aemond gives him a perplexed look. And then he turns to see you, your eyes burning holes in him, and his face pales.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters. “We were supposed to meet, weren’t we?”

“Yep,” you drawl with a frown, and his face falls even more.

He doesn’t have time to explain as you hear another whistle.

“Nice ass,” it’s Jeff, one of the frat boys who’s famous for not keeping his hands to himself. You are about to shut him off but when Jeff looks up at you, his smirk disappears.

“Woah, I didn’t know it was you!” he raises his hands in defense. “My apologies to your ass,” he glances behind your back, terrified. “...To you, I mean my apologies to you!” he backs off. “Hey, it was meant as a compliment, tell your boyfriend I’m not his punching bag!”

“You need to google what a compliment is, you idiot,” you scoff at him, and Jeff all but runs off.

The room is awkwardly quiet, and Aemond’s friends quickly get out, leaving you two alone. He barely has time to open his mouth before you press your hand to his chest, making him stumble back purely out of surprise.

“Care to explain what the hell was that?” you hiss at him, your gaze burning. “My boyfriend?!”

“I didn’t say that, he made an assumption,” Aemond clarifies.

“Jeff was the one you got into a fight with?” you suddenly figure out. “But why?”

“He was talking shit about you,” he says, clearly displeased.

“And you decided it was worth a fight? I could not care less if he — ”

“I do,” Aemond cuts you off. “And I think it was worth it,” he punctuates with so much certainty, it takes you aback.

In the next second, you realize that your hand is still on his bare chest — it’s warm and toned, his muscles tense under your touch — and you are standing very close to each other. It’s very, very hard not to think of.

“Um, thank you, I guess,” you step back with your gaze still on him. “I-I shouldn’t have barged in here, it wasn’t very —”

One of your legs bumps into a bench, your eyes widen — and you are about to trip over when Aemond catches you. With a blink of an eye, his hands are on your waist as he brings you closer again, and this time the distance between you two is even shorter. You involuntarily look at his lips and when you glance back up, you catch him looking at yours.

If he kisses you right now, you won’t mind. In fact, you will probably enjoy it. Probably a lot.

Aemond clears his throat and pulls back.

“I’m sorry that I stood you up, the coach didn’t let us rest for a minute,” he explains with a repentant tone. “I wanted to send you a text, I really did. And then it just went out of my head.”

“It’s fine, I get it,” you give him a wan smile. “You warned me that you would be busy.”

“Still, it was rude on my part,” he insists. “You have any plans for the evening? We can still go to the library, I’m all yours for today.”

The way he phrases it makes your heart skip a bit. You bite the inside of your cheek to concentrate.

“They closed earlier,” you sigh. “Something about updating the catalog.”

Aemond only thinks for a second.

“I, um... Live close by. Maybe you can come over? No one will bother us there,” his smile looks sheepish and unsure but there’s a hint of eagerness in his voice. And he is still very much half-naked.

“I happen to be completely free,” you say as your concentration goes out of the window.

⋙ Aemond apologizes again, profusely. He gives apologies in the locker room, on your way out, in the cab — and when you get out of the car and he opens his mouth again — you turn and firmly place your hand over it.

“I think I got it the first time,” you tell him, and he looks amused with your act.

You feel him smiling, his lips tickling your palm, and you move your fingers away as your cheeks heat up.

“Quite fierce, aren’t you,” he remarks.

You don’t notice a sidewalk curb but Aemond does — his hand finds yours when you are a moment away from stumbling again, and he tugs you closer. He doesn’t comment on it, asking you about your day instead. There are a few other parts of your body where you want him to put his hands on, you think.

⋙ His apartment is unexpectedly huge — four bedrooms and a living room, high ceilings and large windows, and you can’t hide your bewilderment. He half-heartedly explains that his dad left it to them after the divorce.

“Oh, so it’s not just yours,” you conclude, relieved. “Makes it look like less of a palace.”

“I have my own, actually,” he almost looks ashamed, and you find his modesty ever so adorable. “I’ve repainted the walls, and the place needs some air. So I’m crushing here at the moment.”

He tells you that his older brother Aegon mostly hangs out in his gallery, Helaena took a week off to visit her friends, and you already know that their youngest — Daeron — studies abroad.

“Mum recently moved in with her boyfriend,” Aemond nonchalantly adds while showing you to his room.

You realize that it’s just the two of you. The thought of it warms up the lower part of your body, anticipation tingling in your abdomen, but you do your best to keep it together.

Luckily, you get easily distracted by the beautiful interior, his sister’s plants and paintings, and rows of photos on the walls, and you try not to gawk at the surroundings. Aemond tries not to gawk at you. You both fail.

“Feel yourself at home, I’ll go look for my charger,” his hand grazes your back after he opens the door. Aemond leaves you standing but the feeling of his touch remains. You have to pinch yourself to get back to reality.

⋙ You see his bookshelf that stretches from one end of the room to the other, and excitement bubbles in your chest as you rush to take a closer look. There’s a plethora of books of all colors and genres, paperback and hardcover, and you energetically look through the rows filled with them. You reach for one of the books on the upper berth, standing on your tiptoes but it causes you to lose balance. The only reason you don’t fall flat on your back is because Aemond’s hand swiftly lands on your waist, steading you. He turns you around to him, and your faces are suddenly only inches apart.

“Are you always this clumsy?” he chuckles lightly, his breath fanning over your skin.

Only when you are around, apparently.

Aemond’s lips part, his brows raising, and he stares at you, surprised. And then you realize that you said it out loud. Before you get a chance to correct yourself, he lets out a laugh, and you feel your face flushing. You close your eyes in embarrassment, trying to steady your breath, and his laughter dies down. He firmly locks his hands around you.

“What’s on your mind?” Aemond murmurs after a minute of silence.

You, you, you. Fearing that there’s still a chance that you are misreading the situation, you vaguely respond:

“A lot of things,” but your voice comes out strained and quiet.

When you don’t hear him replying, you open your eyes — your gaze immediately meeting his. The warmth from his hands slips into your body.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” Aemond asks in a low tone, his eyes a shade darker in this lightning. You shake your head because talking seems like an actual challenge right now.

“Kissing you,” he confesses, maintaining eye contact.

You inhale sharply, a wave of relief washing over you. And then something else sparkles inside, tightening your chest, and the well-known burning sensation blossoms right under your navel.

“You should,” you tell Aemond, and it’s the only confirmation he needs.

He crashes his lips into yours with fervor, pulling your chest flush against his and knocking the breath from your lungs. His hand cups your face, guiding you even closer, his mouth greedy and intent with its every movement, and your head goes dizzy with longing. The kiss is both tender and heated, and you lose yourself in the moment, only thinking of how soft and supple his lips are, and how ineffably good they feel.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” Aemond mumbles against your mouth.

“Only been a month,” you manage to say while his lips move from your jaw to your neck.

“Long before that,” his words burn the spot just below your ear, making you shiver. “Ever since you argued with Mr. Harrold that Zelda Fitzgerald wrote ‘The Great Gatsby’ and her husband was a total — hmm, how did you call him? Yeah, a total nitwit,” he cackles.

You glance at him with your mouth ajar:

“Aemond, that was last semester.”

“I didn’t know how to approach you,” he admits, abashed. “And I didn’t want it to be weird or to mess it up and — ”

You shut him off with another kiss, and he hums in satisfaction. His thumb softly rubs your cheek while he deepens the kiss, his mouth exploring yours. His other hand dares to move lower, squeezing your hip and making you sigh at the alacrity of his. It’s simultaneously overwhelming and not enough but he still holds back a little, not crossing the line just yet.

“Wow, can’t believe this is finally happening!”

You break the kiss, startled by someone’s voice. A blond guy is leaning on the door frame, a pair of glasses and a grin on his face. Aemond groans into your shoulder, his hands moving to your waist.

“It’s Y/N, right? I’m this dipshit’s brother,” he shamelessly walks closer and extends a hand. You reluctantly go for a handshake, but he plants a quick kiss on yours.

“Aegon,” Aemond says with a warning tone.

“Oh, don’t grumble at me, I’ve been listening to you talk about her for months,” his brother’s smile widens. “Now Hel owes me 50 bucks.”

“Why is that?” you squint at him.

“We made a bet. I said he’d grow a pair and ask you out before the year ends. Glad I was right,” he snickers.

“Well, technically...,” you can help but laugh.

“He still didn’t?” Aegon fakes a gasp. “I apologize on his behalf, I taught him better than that!”

“Can you please fuck off already?” Aemond glares at him, irritated, and Aegon rolls his eyes but takes the hint.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it, kids,” he winks at you and walks away.

“I like him,” you exclaim.

“I don’t,” Aemond retorts and pulls you in for a kiss as soon as the door closes. “But I will let him win the bet.”

“Is that so?” you cock your head with a smile.

“Yeah,” he pauses, his face getting serious, and he almost looks scared while asking: “Will you go on a date with me?”

“I’d love to,” you agree without a second thought, and his lips twitch upward, making your heart swell with affection. “Where do you plan on taking me?”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Aemond says cryptically, his eyes never leaving yours. “May be more than just one date,” he sounds both daring and pleading. You gently trace the line of his scar, and he relaxes at the movement.

“So you are all mine for a while, huh?” you joyfully assume, earning a laugh from him, and he leans in, his hand lovingly caressing your face.

“For as long as you’ll have me,” he whispers before closing the distance between your lips. ➡ part 2: First time for everything

• listen, I looked at his face and I thought there’s no way girls won’t find him attractive, with or without a scar. so yeah, this version of Aemond is more confident. I may do a second part? maybe more headcanons (love confessions, meeting his family, moving in together, etc.)

• I kinda want to write for Aegon, too... I mean, just look at the original photo and tell me he doesn’t seem like the sweetest fuckboy ever! tagging @greenowlfactif, @kyuupidwrites since you asked (I hope that’s fine 🥺)

✨ recent fic: “My first choice” (she’s Aegon’s bestie, inspired by “Little women”) 💌 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

[bananasomg]

#22 maxiel

hello my love, i'm here to deliver your ficlet request from this great prompt ask.

here is #22. Maxiel: things you said after it was over. you thought it was gonna be angsty, but it's the exact opposite of that. gotta keep you on your toes. 🫶🏼

ily thanks for indulging me because you know i'm doing anything to avoid monza and the notorious a/b/o yacht fic.

things you said after it was over

Max’s hotel room is way nicer than his, but that’s a given. He’s the reigning world champion, and Daniel’s just a former Red Bull driver turned marketing dog. 

Daniel sighs, tosses the condom in the trash by Max’s California King. Conveniently placed, he thinks. Maybe this is a normal occurrence for Max—shagging former drivers between practice sessions. He doesn’t want to think like that, but he’s been known to have a few paramours that worship the ground he walks on.

“You going back to your room?” Max asks when Daniel begins to search for his clothes, discarded in the tumble at the foot of the bed. 

“Uh.” Daniel hesitates, cocking his hip as he tries to figure out the coolest, most casual response. Something that screams noncommittal and having fun. 

He settles with, “I guess so, yeah.”

“Oh,” Max replies. He frowns, his cheeks still red from the aftermath of Daniel’s tongue. The sullen debauched look is unbearable, and Daniel abandons his search and pads back to the bed. Max’s nose scrunches adorably when he flops onto the hotel mattress. The corners of his lips curl into a smile, glad he came back.  

Fuck, he’s cute.

Daniel can read his expressions like a speedometer, his heart racing a hundred kilometers an hour. It’s always been like this. Maybe that’s just what it’s like to have good sex. And if you ask him, they’re very good at fucking—it’s the after part they’re still figuring out. Some days are worse than others. Daniel hopes today is better. 

Max’s finger sweeps lazily over Daniel’s bare chest, lingering on the love bite he left below his right pec. It’s not super noticeable on his tan skin, but it felt significant. Max’s own personal brand. A way to claim him—Possessive and feral. Two words he normally associates with Max when he’s inside the car. He never contemplated how it might extend to his love life. He is full of surprises it seems.

“Do you wanna sleep here?” Max asks. 

“Um, with you?” Daniel rubs the back of his neck. He isn’t sure why his voice squeaks and it’s embarrassing and he feels his face getting uncomfortably warm, which is so not suave. 

“No, Daniel. Alone. I’m going to leave my room and go bunk with Christian.” Max rolls his eyes but can’t hold back the playful grin when Daniel shakes his head. 

Daniel laughs, semi-awkward huffs like he gets it. 

Max says, “I’m like—into you. You know that, yeah?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, you kinda have to be to let me—”

“No, you’re not listening.” Max bites his lip, palm resting flat on Daniel’s chest. “I mean, I really like you. As in, I haven’t seen anyone else for weeks. Not since—” 

“Silverstone,” Daniel whispers. It’s not a question. 

Max’s purposeful blue eyes flicker onyx beneath the dim light from the nightstand. God, Daniel thinks he could get lost in those eyes—so expressive and vast, and ever-changing like the tide. 

What might have seemed unbelievable before is completely plausible. Because Daniel hasn’t seen anyone else either. Not since they started hooking up almost nine weeks ago. 

The British Grand Prix was nothing special this year, his race a wash, Max taking P2, so he’d been surprised that his night ended with Max shoving him against the door of his motorhome, licking into his mouth like a starved man, tasting every expanse of skin available like he couldn’t keep going without learning every part of his body. 

Belgium had been the turning point when Max requested his presence, showing him off in a helicopter headed to Capri. And after escaping from the media circus and dropping off the parents it was just the two of them—stolen kisses and warm promises on the beach. 

“You too?” Max asks. He sounds hopeful and confident, gazing at him like he’s the most handsome man he’s ever set eyes on, and Daniel really wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. 

“Yeah, Maxy. Me too.” 

The way Max smiles makes him feel like King of the Mountain. Like he could actually lasso the fucking moon and pull it down just for him.

[sunderingstars]

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✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ PENACONY VOICELINES ⌝

sampo analysis m.list

— what the stars reveal: analysis, elation!sampo

— word count: 2.2k

— overview: (as of 2.4) a look at sampo’s voicelines throughout penacony, focusing on identity, views on the masked fools, sparkle, and masks.

— i will not be focusing too much on the dream bubble since it is included in my “notable topics” analysis!

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✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ IDENTITY REVELATIONS ⌝

Note: I am still slightly unclear on the delineation between Sampo and Sparkle!Sampo during the Trailblaze Mission, so this analysis will be assuming Sampo is the one who takes us to the Pepeshi Salon & Dream Bubble, or that Sparkle!Sampo is at the very least capitalizing on connections and motifs that Sampo already has during these scenes.

Starting off with a bang, let’s talk about perhaps the biggest theme of Sampo’s on Penacony: identity. Up until this point, Sampo being a Masked Fool was largely unexplored; with the exception of the Aetherium Wars dream bubble and Rivet Town TV screen scene, there wasn’t much detail given to his function within the Fools. However, there are quite a few things we can take from the Penacony quest(s):

He has a VIP card to the Pepeshi Salon and seems to be on good terms with an important person there.

He wants to “reveal the truth” through convoluted means and implications.

He is an “old timer” and Sparkle is in possession of his mask.

From this, we can reasonably assume that his status (or charm skill) is high enough to land him a VIP card for a place that is extremely strict about who it lets in. He obviously holds some type of sway in Penacony beyond just another member of the Masked Fools, as shown by him eventually being able to get the items he needs. 

Furthermore, the theme of age is continued from its usage in Belobog, with Sampo referring to himself as an “old timer” to Sparkle. What is notable about this, however, is that it is a departure from the more general use of “old pal” and “old guy” to something with a specific meaning — “old timer.” “Timer” is often used in reference to profession, and usually unique to experienced positions at that. Different forms of media often use “old timer” as a way to delineate an experienced member of a group; for example, if someone refers to themself as an “old timer” in a mafia movie, they are definitely someone to watch out for, usually an experienced hitman or former boss. It has become a way of showing how characters downplay their power to those around them — “oh, I’m just an old timer” (said right before they take out an entire crime syndicate solo). After all, the oldest tend to be the wisest and most practiced out of everyone. While it can still be used in more common settings (like old members of a group just being stuck in their ways), I think it’s clear that this isn’t Sampo’s case. Taking into account everything present in Belobog’s story, it’s reasonable to assume that “old timer” is a way of him referencing a more powerful or experienced status. 

Which leads us to the dream bubble. Sampo’s dreamscape is interesting, to say the least, with heavy indications of wanting to say something that can’t be said. He constantly circles back to the idea of “revealing” the “truth” — not merely hinting at it, but fully uncovering it for others. However, he doesn’t seem to be able to do this in a straightforward way. Instead of just saying what he wants, he has to rely on the metaphor within a metaphor of the dream bubble. It isn’t entirely clear if the “truth” he wants to show has to do with Firefly, his own identity, Penacony as a whole, or some combination of the three. One thing, however, is clear: he is very insistent. This seems to be something important to him, important enough to go out of his way to formulate and guide us to experience. 

Which is why it’s so strange that he doesn’t use that silver tongue of his to “reveal” it directly. If it’s so important to him, why not tell us? Why not, at the very least, imply it with his own mouth? My theory is that he can’t. Not that he won’t, or doesn’t want to, but that he is physically or mentally incapable of doing so. This may be due to the potential repercussions he’d face from others, or it may be due to a more eldritch power binding him shut. To me, the dream bubble seems like a scream. Some part of him trying to reach out to us, to tell us something important, despite being separated by soundproof walls. His insistence on truth seems less like a bit and more like a cry for help, trying to get through to us despite us having no way of knowing the real situation going on.

Whatever his identity is, he’s trying to let us know in the only way he can. Personally, I see a direct tie between the size of “big Sampo” and Phantylia, so perhaps the “revelation” is of Emanator or Aeonic status (but that’s just me!). Either way, there’s definitely something he wants us to know. There are limitations to his identity, but that won’t stop him from trying to find workarounds.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ "CLOWN'S ITEMS" ⌝

Let’s take a detour for a moment and focus on the items Sampo requests from the Pepeshi Salon. Given that these items are used to directly create the dream bubble (which relies on Sampo’s personal dreamscape), they seem important to discuss when talking about his identity and potential backstory. 

(Note that these are labeled the “Clown’s Items” — not the “Fool’s” items. While Masked Fools are often referred to as “Fools” (and Sampo is specifically referred to as this by Sparkle’s team voiceline), these items indicate a higher status. A fool is often someone who is unaware of their foolishness, someone less aware of their own antics than that of a clown. It is also important to note that clowns are often experienced performers who are paid to do a job. Simply put, “clown” would be a more sophisticated way to refer to someone within the Elation, a more serious and dedicated title.)

Similar to Sampo’s eidolons, I see these three items as taking narrative form. 

First: “The Moment of Betrayal.” This likely refers to an “inciting incident,” something that completely turned Sampo’s world upside down. With all of his emphasis on trust throughout his dialogue, it would make sense that he potentially has a rocky relationship with it; or, at least, trusting someone that eventually would betray him. This could go several ways — the ones that stick out to me are: Aha as an Aeon somehow being upstaged or betrayed or otherwise lured into a joke that turned sour (the specifics of this could get iffy, but given Aha’s proximity to mortals wouldn’t be entirely out of the question, especially if They were lured into mortal form or into taking power away from Themself as a joke); a part of Aha being betrayed by another part (betrayal of the self), something akin to the masks casting the silhouette out or the mind leaving the body behind; Emanator!Sampo being hurt or otherwise led astray/stripped of power by Aha or another Emanator (being the butt of a traumatic joke rather than the one making it); a Sampo that, after being constantly mistreated by the Elation, was subject to a moment that “broke the camel’s back”; and general abandonment or deception that led to a horrifying revelation.

Second: “The Cloud of Doubt.” After the betrayal occurred, doubt began to set in. Sampo’s faith in the goodness of himself/others/the Elation began to wane, most likely taking the form of a confused haze similar to a “cloud,” an ever-present reminder of loss. It also implies a state of dissociation, of shock, the quiet, stretching time after something occurred that he couldn’t quite process yet. But the doubt was still there, hanging in the background, fermenting.

Third: “Everlasting Hatred.” Eventually, this doubt would morph into hatred, either turned inwards or outwards depending on the specifics of the betrayal. Sampo would carry this within him, always keeping his target in mind. The “everlasting” quality of it, the inability of it to fade, would lead to it further strengthening, further fermenting, most likely influencing his overall plans and endgame goal. This is most likely where we are in the present, with the “truth” he so desperately wants to reveal to us potentially including details like these.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ VIEWS ON THE MASKED FOOLS ⌝

To put it simply, Sampo is tired. Worn out. Exhausted, even. He constantly carries the air of exasperation when talking about the Masked Fools, the kind of energy reserved for a parent watching their kid flush car keys down the toilet again. We know he places an emphasis on dignity and respect in his own view of Elation, so obviously he would butt heads with the idea of a group like the Masked Fools who are dedicated to sowing chaos purely for the sake of laughter. We see most of this in Black Swan’s companion quest, with Sampo calling the smoked red herring a “cringe joke,” then asking “Have you dealt with many Masked Fools before?” when Black Swan says Sparkle’s sense of humor sticks out to her. This seems to be his way of generalizing Masked Fools as 1. telling “cringe jokes” (i.e. being unfunny) and 2. being all the same, not necessarily unique but instead sharing the same sense of humor — “cringe” humor at that (this could alternatively be read as all Masked Fools having extreme and unique senses of humor, which in turn makes them all “similar” in their uniqueness). 

Additionally, in his conversation with Sparkle, he wants her to stay away from Belobog and even says, “… the Elation Miss Sparkle seeks… isn’t something ol’ Sampo can stand by.” While this is a conflict with Sparkle specifically, it can also be applied to the Masked Fools writ large since Sampo seems to see them as similar to each other. (It can also be reasonably interpreted based on the Masked Fools subscribing to a shared ideology.) In this way, the Masked Fools’ idea of Elation is not just something that Sampo disagrees with ideologically, but is something he is actively trying to keep away from the people and places he cares about. “Stand by” additionally implies a source of frustration or anger spurring him to take action; being so overwhelmed by emotion that he can’t put up with it anymore and refuses to support this ideology. Sampo presents a more mature and balanced idea of Elation, while the Masked Fools are pure youthful insanity. It’s clear that while he technically respects all people’s ideas of Elation, he doesn’t have to support or tolerate what he views as too dangerous.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ SPARKLE & MASKS ⌝

Lastly, there is definitely something going on with Sparkle in relation to Sampo. It is never revealed why Sparkle has his mask or how she got it, only that it’s in her possession and she gives Sampo the means to find it. It’s unclear if Sampo gave her the mask to begin with or if she stole it, or if it simply made its way around to her through other means. We also aren’t clued in on if Sampo potentially left it with her for safekeeping — essentially “giving up” his power willingly with the intention of coming back for it — or if he gave it to her as a way to specifically keep it away from himself. Alternatively, we don’t know if Sparkle could have taken his mask just to fuck with him, or if there was a deeper reason for her to hide it. 

The idea of Sparkle “giving” the mask back to him after he does something for her could support the theory that she took it originally, but the following line from her asking why he “suddenly want[s] to take back [his] mask” could point to more intention on his part of handing it off to her. There seems to be somewhat of a disconnect here; Sampo’s lines seem to see Sparkle as having taken or otherwise having full control of his mask, while Sparkle’s lines seem to see the mask as something she was just holding onto for Sampo until he wanted it back. “Giving” and “take back,” after all, mean two very different things. “Giving” implies authority on behalf of the giver, whereas “take back” implies authority on behalf of the taker. Either way, Sampo wanting his mask back seems to be a surprise to Sparkle, most likely because he hasn’t expressed any want to use it for a long time. 

Whatever is going to happen on Belobog, it’s clearly bad enough for Sampo to need more power than he currently has. The severity depends on his status — if his higher status is only by experience and title, then the issue is mild. If he’s an Emanator, it’s more serious. And if he’s an Aeon? Whoo boy. Whatever makes an Aeon risk complete transformation back into an eldritch entity is a huge problem indeed.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ MISC. ⌝

Firefly’s hilarious Wattpad introduction for him: “large palms,” fingers that are “slender and nimble, “emerald eyes.” I’ll say it, she absolutely sold me on the dramatic aspects of his appearance. Like, noting that he “walks in long strides, but his steps are light and barely audible” so he doesn’t leave footprints reminds me so much of that one Twilight scene LOL. Also, that description is so hot wtf?

More “old friend” references scattered throughout the quests (for more explanation, see Sampo’s Belobog Lines).

“Entertainment for grownups”? “The adult side of things”? Don’t mind if I do ;)

(I think 99% of the problems in my life could be fixed by making out with him sloppy style.)

Sampo distrusts Firefly, perhaps almost omnisciently, but Firefly also distrusts him. As much as he tries to help, he’s not completely in the clear.

In her voicelines, Sparkle mentions Sampo having “lines he won’t cross” — while I’ll explain this more in another analysis, the main question I pose is: Won’t? Or can’t? Aeonic or Emanator restrictions could look an awful lot like being a buzzkill to an outside observer.

The dream bubble is a dream within a dream — dreamception. Perhaps this links to Sampo’s own identity — an Aeon within an Emanator within a Masked Fool (or any combination thereof).

Sampo, despite eventually making that deal with Sparkle, is a lot more straightforward in this quest. Not in the sense that he’s any less cryptic or confusing, but that he doesn’t seem to be trying to outright deceive us as much. In fact, he’s trying to guide us and look out for us — even going through the whole dream bubble thing as a way to warn us about multiple things.

— There are heavy themes of disguise throughout Penacony; we know from Sparkle that the Masked Fools are already capable of disguising themselves easily (or at least she is). I wonder how much more powerful or adept at disguise Emanator or Aeon status would be. 👀

Overall, I feel Penacony brought a lot of great information for Sampo’s character. Unlike Belobog, his scenes here focused more on identity and function within the Masked Fools, which I found to be a nice way to balance out the more “personality-heavy” scenes of Belobog. I’m very interested to see what more is revealed in future plotlines!

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴ thank you for reading to the end!

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© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[tenebriskukris]

Oshi No Ko Chapter 163 - My Thoughts/Analysis

Three chapters before the end. I don’t expect anything more than a horribly written, badly paced mess of a final few chapters by this point, but maybe the manga will surprise me. By being even worse than I’ve come to anticipate.

Interesting way to start off the chapter. We’re back with Goro for some reason? And Sarina after what is likely some surgery? This definitely didn’t actually happen. It almost reeks of a happy “what-if” scenario right here.

The next few panels seem to solidify that. It’s some sort of delusional happy ending for Sarina and Goro. Neither of them were so lucky in their fates so as to almost get everything they wanted.

Sarina recovering and becoming a B-Koamchi idol alongside Ai…it’s cute and all, but I’m more interested in the why this is being shown rather than marvel at this pitiful attempt at moving the reader’s heartstrings. I’d be more willing to engage with the narrative and have more sympathy for everyone involved here except for the fact that all these recent chapters have just eroded my ability to care with some of the worst writing that I’ve seen in a piece of media since the later seasons of Game of Thrones. Actually no, that’s an insult to GoT—at the very least the earlier seasons of that show were actually good, while as much as people harp on about the earlier parts of OnK, that much is mostly because the anime carried its mediocre story.

Is this a dream? And now we’re back with Aqua and Crow Girl. Are we deus ex machena-ing now?

The world is a virtual image created by observation. Not everything is true. It’s like the world looked completely different before and after you were reborn. Crow Girl is Literally Just Saying Words. It’s so unsubstantial that it feels like I’m chewing on air. These words don’t even fucking relate to this entire dream sequence at large!

In the end, who was I? Are we going to finally get the nail in the coffin for people who don’t want to believe that Aqua=Goro?

Was this actually the wrong choice? AQUA YOU LITERALLY HAD TIME TO CONSIDER THIS POSSIBILITY WHEN YOU PLANNED THIS DOUBLE SUICIDE BULLSHIT. If you were hesitant in leaving everyone else behind, you could’ve, you know, not fucking went after Hikaru after Nino was captured? If he feels sad over leaving people behind there are so many ways for him to survive these contrived series of events that I’m sorry, Aqua you’ve done fucked up. He’s had more than enough time to plan out a series of events that doesn’t end with him dying, so Aqua “regretting” that he might’ve caused more trouble with his actions is just so stupid that it kills my suspension of disbelief faster than Goro falling to his death in the first chapter. 

Through reincarnation, you possessed Goro Amamiya’s memories and will [...] however within your body there are genetic factors that were inherited from Ai and Kamiki. Interesting that she doesn’t mention the concept of a soul here, but everything related to Crow Girl is just a nonsensical thematic mess half the time. Considering that she said that Ai’s children were soulless in one of her first appearances I’m surprised that people take these words to mean that Aqua=/= Goro when the rebuttal to that argument is given so early on in the manga.

This entire bit of Crow Girl hugging Aqua and holding his face and such…I dunno. I don’t quite know how to feel about it? What’s with all this sympathy for Aqua when she was sitting on the fence and giving out breadcrumbs to Aqua and Ruby? If she cared enough to stop this scenario she could’ve easily pulled enough strings as a fucking god to save him, since she is Right There to keep Aqua from dying. I would say that it’s almost out of character, but that gives this series too much credit because Crow Girl is more of a plot device rather than an actual character.

The rest of these scenes are nice except they feel too much like throwing a pity party when Everything that came before it was just so shite that this payoff tastes cheap. I’m supposed to feel emotions coming from this scene, but all I can think of is how fucking stupid these last few chapters were if this was the end result of that entire clusterfuck. It doesn’t hit its mark by a long shot. 

That was all of you, Aqua Hoshino. And with that, all that is left is the keychain. I’m sure that Ruby’s going to be holding onto that keychain for dear life alongside Aqua himself soon enough.

That’s it??? There are—were—four chapters in this blasted manga to get through and THIS is one of those chapters??? As heartbreaking and or heartwarming as this chapter was, it could’ve easily been folded into the last one simply because there wasn’t much substance from this chapter or the last! Hell, even putting that aside, with only a handful of chapters left in the series this chapter should’ve been focused on something more substantial rather than deal with character beats that should’ve been very well established beforehand!

Let’s get down to business. Do I think Aqua is going to live after this chapter? My answer hasn’t changed since the last chapter, but I do have more thoughts to give on it now that this chapter’s dropped.

There are only three more chapters left in this bloody series. Three chapters to wrap up the story as we know it so far. As much as I greatly dislike the way Aqua’s revenge plot has panned out, with Hikaru pretty much down for the count as of this chapter, I think plotline that much has been dealt with. That only leaves a couple of loose ends to wrestle with. If the manga is keeping up this breakneck pace to the end, then I do think it’s possible to wrap this whole mess up. It won’t be the best way to do so by a long shot, but it’ll certainly end. There’s just one thing that I think has to be addressed in the span of these final chapters.

An author has a responsibility to wrap up loose threads when a series inevitably gets closer to the ending. While this series has dispensed with many, many small plot threads that have headed nowhere in order to sprint towards the end of the manga, there is one plotline that I believe needs to be dealt with before the series concludes. The issue of Aqua and his love interests. For better or worse, this plotline has defaulted to one of, if not the main hook of the series since the revenge plot has been so shallow throughout a good majority of the series.

There needs to be a clear “winner” for the Aquabowl, so to speak. 

While fans on all sides will point to various chapters and say, Aqua has romantic feelings for Kana, or, Aqua wants to rekindle his relationship with Akane, or Aqua loves Ruby, the sheer fact that multiple of these interpretations exist within the context of the series itself this close to the ending needs to be addressed. Love triangles often soak the reader with intrigue and suspense before being dispensed of later down the line after it has served its narrative purpose. If the series isn’t going to pivot towards an open ending, then that needs to be addressed before the end.

Killing Aqua off here would render all that utterly meaningless. It would be unsatisfying in a way that would forever damn it simply because of the fact that it’s the equivalent of pushing the reader’s face into a plate of shit and the author saying, “Wow! That’s a good ending because it made you feel bad!”, when after such an event the reader would like nothing more than to refund the time investment they had in said media. It’s daft. It’s insulting. It is essentially telling the fans that all of the time they spent with this character and the romance angle—doubly so because of the fact that this little romance angle had little to no plot relevance for the vast majority of the series—was worth less than nothing because Aqua was going to die all along—and he even didn’t die dramatically, either, though maybe that would’ve softened the blow, but he died in a horribly executed confrontation that culminated in a half baked dream sequence where there were more than a handful of ways for him to come out of it alive.

While there are media that can intentionally make an unsatisfying ending work, with how these past few chapters have been, such an ending would likely fall flat for an abundance of reasons—but since we’re just talking hypotheticals, I won’t make any sweeping statements just yet.

Of course, all of this assumes that the authors are, you know, making good narrative decisions. The buckshot pacing and flow of the last ten, twenty, even thirty chapters have just been a complete garbage heap in quality. There are many things I can feel in predicting within a series that’s still ongoing thanks to performing enough media analysis and understanding how stories like OnK are structured as well as the tropes therein.

What I cannot predict are the authors making irrational(read: BAD) decisions and or torching the media and running. It’s why I was so vehemently against the idea that Akane wearing a fucking wig and disguising herself as Ruby to fool Nino. It’s why having both Aqua and Akane independently coming to the conclusion that Yura was murdered was such a surprise to me. It’s why Aqua meeting Crow Girl offscreen wasn’t something that I’d seriously considered before I read that chapter.

These are, quite frankly, objectively bad decisions. I’d made my disdain for these narrative beats known many, many times throughout my various analyses as well as given my reasoning for Why these decisions are bad, so I’m not going to go over them again, but suffice it to say that these are the type of plot beats that high school teachers tell their students what NOT to do. And yet they happened nonetheless.

I can only predict what a competent author that tries to give payoff to the various plot threads in a piece of media can attempt to do next. What I cannot predict, however, is someone who is haphazardly throwing plot threads and beats around like crumbs throughout the manga with little to no intention of following them up satisfyingly or has any desire to actually pace these chapters with any degree of competence. It’s the equivalent of asking a sane person to try to wrap one’s head around the mind of someone that’s on some of the hardest drugs in the world. There’s literally no use in doing so because both parties have fundamentally different thought processes. The fact that this slop is being published must mean that the editors for this literal godforsaken series must be high, drunk, or are being blackmailed. It’s an insult to all of the actual good manga writers out there that don’t even get a speck of popularity that this series has garnered.

That leads me to my next point. It’s also completely possible that Aqua just fucking dies here. It’d be a horrible decision, don’t get me wrong, but it'd be completely on brand for the series which has already made so many poor choices this close to the end. It’d just be one final shit pie to eat after the author cooked a buffet of garbage.

If that’s the case, I’d expect Ruby following Aqua soon after. Sad, I know, but that girl literally made it her mission to kill Hikaru after she found out that Goro was dead and was willing to go to lengths that Aqua just wasn’t in order to get her revenge. Losing the person she cares about most after finding out he was alive all along only for him to fucking die again??? I wouldn’t be surprised if Ruby just walks into the sea after she hears the news.

Completely unsubstantiated thought that just crossed my mind. Calling it now. Aqua and Ruby both die in the next handful of chapters before they reincarnate once more and then meet each other. It’d be almost an inverse of that whole, “two lovers that committed double suicide get reincarnated as twins” Japanese superstition that I’ve seen talked about. That’d be a godawful ending but we’re already scraping the bottom of the bucket with this series. I wouldn’t put it past this series. It is on the table, after all.

Three chapters left. I’ve lost all hopes for a good ending for the series for some time now, so I’m just sitting on the rollercoaster waiting for the ride to finally come to a close.

[something-tofightfor]

Competing For Christmas 5: Holly Jolly Christmas (The Event)

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 13,100

Rating: M. Language. 

Summary: It’s a good day to build some snowmen... and also, apparently a good day to find out some secrets. 

Author’s notes:

Got carried away with this one, but I had very specific things I needded to include. Needless to say, 6 won’t be coming out tomorrow ... I haven’t even started it yet. Sorry about that.

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open!

I’m so glad that everyone still seems to be enjoying this story. I hope that this chapter answers some of the questions that you might have about Din’s past - and in a way that makes sense! 

* reference pictures of the snowmen that they make can be found on the masterlist page!

To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares​ and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog)

Masterlist  / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5.1 

“So let me get this straight.” Cara eyed you from over the sandwich she was eating, the woman leaning closer as she spoke. “He was the one that put a stop to things?”

“Yeah.” Sipping from your straw, you nodded. “He’s the one that put an end to it last week at my place, and then last night, the guy went from hands on my back under my shirt and kissing my neck to telling me that we couldn’t continue in the span of like five seconds.” 

“Weird.” Stacy frowned, head moving from side to side. “Did he say why?” 

“No. He just said that it couldn’t go any further yet, but he’d explain some other time.” You hadn’t meant to spill everything to your friends, but when they’d asked who you were buying a tree skirt and extra ornaments for and you’d immediately given his name, they’d demanded to know more over lunch. 

And you’d spilled - the details of the trivia night, the way he’d taken care of you when you were sick, the kiss you’d shared under the mistletoe at the community center and the following ones the previous night. 

Cara’s eyes widened at the admission, the woman keeping them on you while you finished up, but it was Stacy that had cut in, asking you more about the man himself - and what you’d been able to tell them was surprisingly sparse. 

So you focused on what you did know - that he was kind and thoughtful, eager to learn and willing to let you teach. You told them about the way he was with Grogu, and about how many of the competition elements and things relating to Christmas in general were new to him, thanks to the way he’d grown up. And you ended it with telling them that unlike so many other men, Din hadn’t pushed you for more - urging you past the point that you were comfortable with when it came to physicality, even though it was clear that it was something both of you were interested in. 

“Have you looked him up at all? Cara wiped at her face, chewing. “I know you said he doesn’t have social media, but there’s got to be something about him online.” 

“I haven’t.” It hadn’t occurred to you  to do so, but after Cara’s suggestion, it seemed like an immense oversight on your part. “To be fair, though, I just found out where he’s from yesterday, so -” 

“What’s the name of the place?” Stacy was on her phone, eyes moving from the screen to you and then back. “Mala-”

“Mandalore.” Sighing, you rested your chin on your hand. “I don’t know how to spell it, but -”

“Oh, shit.” Stacy’s eyes widened, Cara leaning over to look at her phone’s screen. “It’s a small country in northern Europe, they’re known for their exports of some sort of steel variant called beskar. I guess it’s used to make spaceships and planes?” She glanced up. “Really valuable shit. But the country’s not even as big as the state of New York, so it’s rare.” 

As she continued to read from the screen, you contemplated pulling your own phone out but chose not to, sighing as the woman asked you how to spell Din’s last name. When you told her, she typed and then scrolled for a few seconds, her frown deepening. “What? What’s that look for?” 

“Nothing’s coming up. Not even a LinkedIn page for him here.” That’s weird. “Are you sure that Din is his full name? Like it’s not short for Brandon or Aidin or -”

“No, I’m positive that that’s his full name. At least… that’s what he goes by at work. It’s on his badge, and it’s on payroll like that, too.” But it could be short for something else, and …

“Holy shit they have a king.” At that, Cara’s attention was fully drawn to Stacy’s screen, and you had to admit that yours was too. A king? “And he’s hot as hell.” You stood from your chair and circled around to where they sat, pushing one of the unused chairs away from the table behind yours to stand between your friends, eyes on her phone. “No clue how old he is or anything like that, but look at him.” 

You did - focusing on the page she was scrolling through, images of a bald man with broad shoulders and sharp - but kind - eyes filling the screen. “Don’t a lot of those tiny little European nations have kings and queens or whatever the equivalent term is? Dukes and lords and -”

“Yeah, but this one’s got an actual name for it. Mand’alor. It’s in some other language, but -”

“Mando’a.” You mumbled the word, surprised as your friends both turned their heads to look at you. “What? Din mentioned it a couple times. He trained Grogu to follow commands in it, and …”

“Ok, so he’s not hiding where he’s from entirely.” Stacy returned to scrolling and you looked, too, reaching out as you gasped when you saw a familiar face on the screen. “What?”

“I know her.” Blinking rapidly, you leaned in. “That’s one of Din’s friends. He showed me a picture of her a couple weeks ago because she won some sharpshooting contest.” And he sent her a picture of me… “Why is she on this page with their king?”

“What’s her name?” You racked your brain, trying to remember if Din had told you, and then it came to you - another unfamiliar sounding one, but one that was difficult to forget. 

“Fennec. I don’t know if it’s a first or a last name, but it’s definitely Fennec.” It was quiet for a few moments as she typed, and while you waited for the page to load, you could feel your confusion growing. He said she was a bodyguard. A sharpshooter, and she was in a picture with … “Oh my God.” 

You whispered the words, one hand gripping the back of Cara’s chair tightly as you scanned words on the screen, but were unable to say anything else. There’s… what? “Your guy’s close with the head of personal security for the king of Mandalore?” Cara turned her head to look up at you, one brow arched. “Interesting.” Yeah, it is. 

“So there’s a lot here, but it says that Fennec Shand was personally appointed as head of security for the Mand’alor, Boba Fett almost ten years ago, and …” You tried to listen - really - but at the mention of the man’s name, you felt your blood run cold. Boba Fett? Fett? As in the other person Din told about me? This can’t be… You felt a hand on your arm and shook yourself back into focus, sucking in a breath. “You alright? What is it that -”

“Nothing. I just…” You didn’t want to lie to them, but also didn’t want to feed them any information until you’d heard it from Din himself and knew what was true - and what wasn’t - so you shrugged and hoped that you’d play it off like nothing was bothering you. “It’s kind of a shock to find out all of this, you know? That Din’s close friend is someone responsible for something like keeping the Mandalorian version of the President safe, and …” You shrugged. “Feels weird to know this because we looked it up.”

“Are you going to say anything?” Stacy darkened the screen and you stood up straight, heading back to your mostly finished lunch. “I mean he can’t blame you for looking him up, right? You guys are basically dating. And it’s not like you found anything about him, just… his friend.” Friends. You corrected her in your head but stayed silent, nodding your head as you began to eat again. 

“Yeah. I’ll probably let him know that I looked up Mandalore, and see… see what he says from there.” 

“Let us know.” Cara winked at you, swiping her fingers through her hair. “I can’t wait to see how he reacts.” Yeah, neither can I. 

— 

But you knew that you wouldn’t say anything to Din right away, and at the sight of the man heading across the parking lot and toward you, you second guessed saying anything at all. “You ever built your snowman in an actual snowstorm before?” His smile was wide and bright, the man glancing up at the sky - covered in gray clouds, though it wasn’t dark thanks to the fact that sunset was still an hour or so away. “At least it stopped snowing so you could get your shopping done.”

“It did. And no, It’s never been snowing like this during the competition before, Din.” You fell into step next to him, fighting the urge to reach over and take his hand. “It’ll keep things interesting, at least.”

“Yeah.” As you reached the pathway to the central gazebo and warming tents, he spoke up again. “Did you get everything done you needed to today?”

“Sort of. The mall was really busy so we had to skip some stores, but I think I only need to get one or two more gifts and then I’m done… so I’m ahead of schedule.” The two of you ducked underneath the tent, five of the other teams already inside and waiting, and took your places near the back of the crowd. “I did get that tree skirt for you, though. And I have the extra ornaments in my trunk, too.” 

“Great. Thank you.” He moved closer and you felt his hand resting on the center of your back. “I scheduled a pizza delivery for 8:45. Figured that since they said the judging happens at 8, we’d be getting back to my place around then, so we could eat before we started on ornaments.”

“Lights first.” Turning your head to face him, you shrugged. “Gotta put lights on before the ornaments, Din.” 

He didn’t have a chance to say anything before someone called for your attention, both of you looking to the front of the tent as the speaker introduced herself, welcoming everyone to the competition. “Most of you know the rules, but for those that don’t, I’ll be quick. All eight teams are here, so as soon as I’m done talking, we’ll start.” 

“So we get extra time.” You checked your watch, seeing that it was twenty minutes before the scheduled start time of the event. “That’s good.” 

“This event is simple: we want you to create a scene that features snowmen. Your scene has to match the theme, and it has to be contained within your allotted space. Each team will need to build at least three figures in order to qualify. And you must use the provided props in some way on each of your snow creations.” That’s simple enough. Nothing different from last year there. “You have from now until 7:15 to finish, and then we’ll need fifteen minutes to remove the fencing and privacy screens.” 

She paused, looking around the room. “They’re on a really tight schedule.” Din leaned over, speaking into your ear. “It’s snow, and -”

“A lot of kids come out to see these. They don’t want it to get too late for them to cast their votes.” He was still touching you, the man moving closer so that his side was pressed against your arm. “Plus they’ve gotta clean up after everyone’s done, so it’s easier to do that before it gets really dark.”

“Good point.” He mumbled the words, his hand sliding from the center of your back to your side, urging you closer. I need to talk to him. I need to…

“As a reminder, this tent will remain open during the competition and act as a warming tent. Plan on taking breaks to warm your hands and feet. There are towels and heaters.” She pointed at one side of the tent. “Hot chocolate and coffee are available. The park’s bathrooms are open, too, and ready for your use.” 

You shifted on your feet, antsy to get started - and to get Din alone, and were rewarded a few seconds later when the woman made the final announcement of the night - telling everyone what the theme was. 

“We thought about this one a lot throughout the last few weeks, and we’ve decided not to deviate from the typical contest themes.” The crowd murmured, but she kept going, one hand tight on the microphone. “The theme this year is going to be Christmas movies and TV shows.” 

You groaned - you couldn’t help it. “What’s wrong?” Din leaned closer, concern evident in his voice. “What’s wrong with that theme?”

“It’s boring.” Rolling your eyes, you turned your head toward him. “Just once, I’d love to do something different, like superheroes or animals or -”

“Do we have to follow the theme?” He said your name, drawing your attention completely. “Is there a way we could -”

“If we don’t follow the theme, we can’t win.” And if we lose another event, we’re going to lose the competition. “So yeah, we’ve gotta follow the theme, Din.” 

The two of you listened to the woman finish her spiel - reminding you of the time you had and the location of your props, and then dismissed everyone, telling you to have fun. You lingered under the tent for a few minutes, arms crossed and your head turned to the side. This is going to be hard because he doesn’t know Chrismtas movies, and … 

“Hey.” He reached out, putting a gloved hand on your shoulder. “Let’s just make snowmen.” 

“But that isn’t -” 

“They didn’t say what movies they had to be from, right?” He shrugged. “Let’s go see what they have for props, and we’ll figure it out. “

“But if we don’t have a theme, we -”

“I don’t care.” He turned completely toward you, reaching out with his other hand and laying them both on your upper arms. “We’ll figure it out, or we won’t.” He leaned in, eyes bright. “The way I see it is that we’re going to see a ton of people making snowmen in Santa hats and reindeer.” He paused. “And that one snowman from the -”

“Frosty.” You rolled your eyes. “That’s why this is such a dumb theme. It’s just going to be a bunch of -”

“Let’s just have fun.” Din shook his head. “This is supposed to be fun, and you’re standing here stressed because of a snowman, and -”

“You’re right.” Admitting it helped - it loosened the anxiety in your chest, your lips parting as you looked up at Din. “You’re right, Din. This is supposed to be…” Closing your eyes, you nodded. “Let’s go see what they have in that gazebo.” 

Stepping toward the tent’s opening, you weren’t surprised when he reached over and took your hand, fingers interlocking with yours in the moments before he squeezed. 

— 

An hour later, the two of you had three snowman shapes built, and you were working on turning them into characters. 

Once you’d seen the props available, it became clear to you that most people were going the predictable route and creating Santa snowmen or going straight Frosty with their choices. After a few minutes of contemplation - and digging through boxes - you decided to make three snowmen from three different movies. 

And as you’d worked, you and Din talked to each other, the man helping you to push and lift the heavy snow into place, Din suggesting that you stick branches into the center for added support - and to ensure that they stood up straight. 

You knew that you probably wouldn’t win, but the longer you spent in the cold with him, the snow falling around you and the sounds of the other teams muffled by the makeshift walls, you realized that you didn’t care. Because being here with him is better than winning. 

He flashed you a smile before standing up straight and pulling his phone from his pocket, lighting the screen up. “So I’m going to finish up this Frosty guy here, and then take a break.” He pointed at his face. “My nose is cold, and I want some of that hot chocolate.” 

“Ok.” Eyeing your snowman, you sighed. “I’m going to stay here while you do that, because this guy has to be big. I remember him always looking huge in the story, and -”

“I’ll help you when we come back.” He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you out here in the cold.” It was snowing harder, but in that moment, you didn’t feel the cold or damp - you felt the warmth of Din’s smile, the heat in his gaze. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Biting your lip, you took a deep breath, the shiver coursing through your body not at all due to the cold. “Yeah, that’s alright.” 

Fifteen minutes later, Din finished his snowman’s hand - carefully molding it around the handle of a broomstick that was securely embedded in a pile of snow on the ground, and turned back to you. “Coming?” With a final glance at your own snowman - the body shape almost to where you wanted it to be, you let out a sigh and then stepped away from it, out and into he open. Din followed, and only a minute passed before the two of you were under the soft, warm light of the tent, cups of hot chocolate in hand. “I think we’re making pretty good progress.” 

He sipped his drink, waiting. Yeah, I think so too. “Your’re almost done, and it won’t take us too long to finish the third one, since all we have to do is make it dirty and make a really simple face.” 

“We still have about an hour. I’m not worried.” He shrugged. “This is good hot chocolate.” It was, and the longer the two of you stood there, the better you felt; feeling coming back into your fingers and toes, the snowflakes on Din’s hat melting and dripping down, creating small puddles on the ground around him. “Grogu left the tree alone, by the way. I was worried he’d knock it over.” 

“Nah. He’s probably going to be more interested once there’s stuff on it, but unless he gets really excited, I bet it stays upright.” Din went to reply, but two more pairs of contestants walked in and so he didn’t, tossing his cup into the trash and then moving to stand next to you - much closer than he had before. “Din?” 

“We should get back to our snowmen.” He sighed, eyeing one of the women, who was holding her phone up and recording the interior of the tent. “C’mon. The sooner we do that, the sooner we’ll be done.” 

“I thought you liked the snow.” Wrinkling your nose as you carefully made your way back to where you’d been building, you questioned him. “Are you cold Din?” 

“I do like the snow. And I’m a little cold, yeah, But to be honest, I’m looking forward to later.” It was the most straightforward he’d been with you about anything, and it stopped you in your tracks. “What?” 

“I’m looking forward to it, too.” There was more you wanted to say - much more, starting with telling him what you and your friends had discovered earlier in the day, but you knew that if you did, the snowmen wouldn’t ever get finished. Because it’ll either be a really long conversation… or a really short one. 

He smiled at you and then used his chin to motion toward your space, and the two of you began walking again, stepping off of the path and onto the snow. 

You settled back into the rhythm you’d established earlier - Din finishing Frosty up to the point where all you had left to do was put his hat on - and then coming to help you with your snowman. It went so much faster with his help - the man hefting large armfuls of snow onto the body for you and packing it in while you worked to shape the arms and legs. 

Like in the earlier events, you worked well as as team, and soon enough, your snowman was done, too - a green scarf and hat settled onto his head and neck and tiny, black eyes and a thin mouth adorning his face. You hadn’t been able to find an orange for his nose, so you’d substituted with a piece of orange fabric wrapped around a tightly packed snowball - but you were happy with it. “And then there was one.” 

Taking a breath, you turned toward Din, hands on your hips. “I don’t know how we’re going to make this thing dirty, this snow is pure white, and …” 

“Yeah, I’m not sure either.” Turning, the man rummaged through your box of props. “If we had actual coal, it would be easier.” Yeah, it would. But all we have is fake, plastic coal, so… “Hold on a second.” He hurried away, leaving you standing in the snow and staring after him, confused. What is he doing? 

While Din was gone, you checked your watch - it was nearly 7, which meant you had about fifteen minutes left to finish. We’re cutting it close, and … He surprised you when he reappeared, one hand stuffed into his pocket and the other holding a handful of white packets. “Din, what -”

“Hot chocolate powder.” He grinned. “I saw the extra packets when we were standing in there earlier, and I figure it’s brown - like dirt, so -” Oh, you’re a genius. 

You didn’t even try to stop yourself from lunging forward, your arms going around the man’s neck and your lips finding his cheek, the skin chilly beneath them. “You’re brilliant, Din Djarin.” 

“No one’s ever said that to me before.” He hugged you back, tucking his head down and nosing along the side of your neck. “But you can say it again if you want.” You would have been content to stay there in his arms for the rest of the night, but Din pushed you away gently, wetting his lips as he let out a breath through his nose. “We’ve gotta finish this.” 

“Yeah.” Swallowing, you closed your eyes. “Yeah, we do.” Instructing Din to just sort of throw the mix at the snow, you took a couple packets from him and removed one glove, pouring the mix into your free hand and then holding it up in front of your mouth, blowing in short bursts. 

Between the two of you, it didn’t take long for you to cover parts of the surface of the snowman in the dust, the air filled with the sweet scent of the cocoa powder. “That good? Or should I go and get more?” 

“No.” You eyed the snow, watching as the powder began to dissolve into muddy looking splotches, bright white peeking through in places. “No, this is good. We don’t want the entire thing to be chocolate soup, it just needs to look…dirty.” In a stroke of inspiration, you reached out, pressing your bare hand to the center of the snowman’s body and letting the heat of it melt a little - a handprint left behind.

Din did the same and when you both stepped back, you laughed, tossing your head back and closing your eyes. “What? It doesn’t look that bad.”

“No. It looks perfect.” Bending down, you wiped your hand on the ground and then kicked snow over the dark space, drying your skin on your jeans before slipping your glove back on. “All we have to do now is put the hat on Frosty, and we’re done.”

He’d taken pictures throughout the night - marking progress with his phone - but you were still surprised when the flash went off as you lifted the hat from the table, eyeing it. “Sorry, I figured I’d take a picture of you putting it on our guy’s head, but I should have asked, and…” 

“Here.” You reached for the phone, holding out the hat. “Trade me.” He looked confused but did as you asked, passing the phone to you and taking the hat, his fingers running along the brim. “It’s your first one, Din. You’ve gotta be the one to finish it.” 

Instead of taking pictures, you switched it to video and aimed the camera at the man, biting your lip as he moved to stand next to the snowman and then rose up onto his toes, lifting the tophat. “Am I doing this right?” Glancing over his shoulder at you, Din waited for your quiet yes to continue, returning his attention to what was in front of him and settling the hat into place, reaching up and giving it a tweak with his fingers to bring it forward. “Done.” 

We’re done. Panning away from Din, you took video of each of the snowmen and then moved it back to him, your smile growing.  You didn’t know if your group would win, but you’d had fun building with Din, and that was all that mattered. I hope he did, too. 

Ending the video, you handed him the phone and then started to clean up your space, loading all of the trash and spare props into the box you’d carried them over in. When you finished, you checked your watch and found that you had five minutes to go before the competition ended, leaving you and Din with enough time to stand back and admire your handiwork.

You could see people beginning to congregate near the gazebo and tent, but you didn’t focus on them, instead leaning into Din’s side and sighing. “We did a good job, Din. Thank you for talking me down earlier. It… I don’t know what was wrong with me, but -”

“You’re welcome. But I meant what I said. It would be nice to win, but if we don’t, we don’t. I said yes to doing all of this with you to spend time with you, not to win a couple prizes.” Oh. Oh, that…. “But I think we’ll win.” 

“You have much more confidence than I do, Din.” Locking eyes with him, you gave him a soft smile. “I hope you’re right, though.” 

There were questions you needed to ask him - things you needed him to clear up … but you wanted to kiss him again, too. And it’s going to happen, it … Din closed the distance between the two of you, turning his body and lifting one arm so that he could wind it around you, and when his mouth met yours, you sighed, feeling the upward curve of his mouth against your lips at the sound. 

The kiss was interrupted, though, when a flash went off, the sudden brightness forcing your eyes open as Din stiffened in front of you, backing away almost immediately. “What was -” He looked around, obviously on alert, and it only took a few seconds to find the source of the light - someone was walking around and taking pictures of the event, but since it was later at night, flash was necessary. 

“They’re just taking pictures of  the entries, Din. The same way they came around and took pictures of the cookies.” It hurt - the fact that he’d had such a visceral reaction to potentially being photographed kissing you - and it only added to the mountain of things that you wanted to ask him. But if he’s associated with the king of Mandalore, it makes sense. “Look.” 

The flash went off again, closer, and Din finally relaxed, saying your name. “It’s not that I don’t want to be -”

“We can talk about it later.” You stepped further away, sticking your gloved hands in your jacket pockets. “We don’t need to get into it right now.” He frowned but agreed, and when, a few minutes later, the judges finally got to your section of the park, it was Din that spoke first, giving your team name, and then turning things over to you to explain your snowmen. “This one’s Frosty.” You pointed, turning the top half of your body to follow your arm. “And that’s The Snowman from the silent British film.” 

“And this one’s Pigpen’s snowman from the Charlie Brown Christmas special.” Din cut in, his arm jutting out to indicate the third snowman. At that, the female judge laughed, her smile growing by the second. That’s good. That’s… really good. 

“It smells like chocolate over here.” She raised a brow, looking between you and Din. “Why?”

“We used cocoa powder packets to make him dirty.” You shared another look with the woman, your shared amusement apparent. “So hopefully it works out.” 

“I like it.” She shrugged, making a few notes on the clipboard she held. “Alright, we’ll take a picture of the two of you and what you built for our records, and then you can head over to the main crowd until it’s time to announce the winners.” 

Unlike the previous picture scenario, Din moved back to stand next to you, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you faced the cameraman. There wasn’t any distance between you, but you felt it nonetheless, a slight shift in the closeness that you’d been building over the previous weeks. I don’t like that at all. 

It worried you, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it, the judges dismissing you and thanking you for participating. “Let’s see what everyone else built.” Din nudged you as you walked, pointing with his other hand. “Take the long way back and circle around. 

So you did, a few of the walls already down to expose the creations by the other teams. Oh, some of these are impressive. 

One team had somehow created Santa, Hermey and Rudolph. Another had made three vaguely reindeer-shaped snowmen, one of them with a bright red nose. A third team’s focus had been on the movie Elf, a large-humanoid snowman dressed in green and yellow, and then a smaller snowman wearing a coat and scarf were joined by something that you identified as a narwhal only by the massive horn sticking out of its face. 

Snowmen dressed as Santa and Frosty were abundant, but it seemed that you and Din had been the only ones to mix movies together for your group, and you hoped that it would set you apart. We’ll see. 

You passed your friends on the way back to the tent, Cara lifting her hand in a wave as she looked between you and Din, the flakes still swirling through the air. You wondered if they’d know which group was yours, and as you and Din dropped off the remaining props at the gazebo and then headed back to the warming tent, you let the thoughts consume you ,

As much as Din said it didn’t matter if you won, part of you knew that it did - to both of you. He was competitive, too, and even if the main reason he’d agreed to participate was to spend time with you, it wasn’t like he’d tried to throw any of the previous events. And he seemed really upset at the thought that he might not be able to contribute to trivia. 

“You either did the Elf snowmen, or you made the ones of Santa and the reindeer.” Stacy’s voice made you turn, Din moving with you and steadying you with one hand on your back again. “And I think it was Elf, but -”

“No, it’s the one that had Pigpen’s snowman.” Cara cut in, swallowing a long sip of cocoa. “Definitely.” 

“How’d you know?” Din shook his head. “We -”

“I’m just that smart.” Cara winked at him, but then lowered her cup, laughing. “No, Din, you’ve got cocoa powder on your jacket. I saw it when you walked by us earlier.” Oh. That makes sense. “Good job, guys. They looked great.” 

Thanking her, the four of you started talking, but it wasn’t long before Stacy pulled you away and toward the snack table. She only waited until you were out of earshot to lean over, hissing out her questions. “Did you ask him? What did she say?”

“Not yet.” You picked up a bag of popcorn, fingers closing around the handles. “There wasn’t time, and if I would have asked before or during the competition, we wouldn’t have finished. I’ll ask him tonight. And that way if it goes bad… I can just leave.” 

“It won’t go bad.” She shook her head, grabbing a bag of popcorn for herself. “I think he’ll appreciate that you looked him up, and that you’re asking him questions, not just assuming things.” You hoped that she was right, and when the two of you made your way back to Cara and Din, and you offered him the popcorn, you really hoped she was right. Because I don’t want things to go back to how they were. 

“I think they’re coming back now.” Din pointed with one covered hand, his gloves the same pair from the previous night - black with yellow fingertips, a bright blue triangle on the backs of his hands. “At least some of them.” 

He was right - the judges were all back, and the gazebo crowd was starting to increase in size, too, everyone huddling together and talking. The sounds of the conversations grew louder as more time passed, and though you and Din spoke to your friends without any awkwardness or extended silences, you were still very aware of what was happening around you, eyes darting between your group and the rest of the crowd and waiting. 

He was beside you but not touching you, though that changed when the woman climbed up the steps to the gazebo, microphone in hand. “Here we go.” Din whispered, bumping your shoulder with his. “We’ve got this.” Do we? 

The woman’s speech was congratulatory, highlighting the impressive creations by each team, but she didn’t waste time with long-winded stories, instead getting right to the important parts. “To start, we want to thank our local hardware store, who donated sleigh shovels to make the creation of these snowmen much simpler.” People clapped but not for long, the woman beginning to speak again. “Each participant will receive one of those as a thank you from us for your contribution to the park’s decorations. 

“That’ll come in handy. I can make Grogu a path in the back yard.” You snorted back a laugh, keeping your eyes forward. 

“In third place and earning fifteen points, with their take on The Nightmare Before Christmas, we’ve got  Team Holi-daze.” The two cheered, the crowd reacting along with them. “Second place goes to a pair that chose to make characters from a few different movies - Clan Mudhorn, your Pigpen snowman was a hit and scored you fifteen additional points.” You tried to listen but were distracted, adding the new points in your head to your running total. 

“We’re still winning.” Din leaned over, mouth close to your ear. “We -”

“And the winners, with their Elf inspired snowmen, we have team Smarty Pints!” The entire crowd cheered, but the woman wasn’t done, her smile genuine as she looked over the people gathered in front of her. “In addition to the previously mentioned shovels, each winning team will have a donation made in their name to a charity of their choice. Third place’s donation is in the amount of $100, second’s is $150 and first place is $250.” 

“I like that.” Din nodded from next to you. “That’s a surprise, but I really like that.” You did, too, and were just about to ask Din if he had any idea where he wanted to donate to when the man spoke again. “You can choose the charity. You know more about the local businesses, and I have no doubt that you’ll pick someone that deserves it.” 

“The animal shelter.” You responded immediately. “Everyone donates to people at this time of year, but they forget that there are plenty of pets that need to be fet and kept warm, and -”

“Really?” You nodded. “That’s fine with me.” He put an arm around you and pulled you close, the one-armed hug brief but warm. “Come on, we’ve gotta go and tell them who we want to donate to, and then we can get out of here.”  

You followed him to the front of the crowd, getting in line behind Holi-daze, the two of them talking quickly about their planned donation. You and Din stayed quiet, though, waiting your turn and taking the offered shovels before Din urged you forward, a small smile on his face. 

After you gave the name of the organization and ensured that it was written down correctly on the sheet of paper in front of you, you and Din made your way back through the crowd and toward where your friends had been - though they were nowhere to be seen. “Thought we’d say goodbye, but …” 

“Text them?” Din stuffed his hands in his pockets. “See where -”

“Nah.” Releasing a long breath, you shook your head from side to side. “They would have waited if they wanted to see me.” I think? “Let’s just get back to your place. It’s going to take a few extra minutes because of the snow, so the sooner we leave, the better.” 

“Alright.” Din eyed you, one brow arched. “Ready for some pizza?” 

“Of course.” Grinning, you hoped that he couldn’t see the conflict on your face  - and that he wouldn’t get upset when you brought up what you’d learned. But it would have come out at some point, and … “I’ll follow you?” 

“Sounds good.” 

And without another delay, you and Din headed for your cars. 

— 

You got two strands of lights on the tree and ornament hooks on most of the ornaments before the pizza arrived, and even though you didn’t want to ruin anything, you figured that dinner would be the perfect time to talk over your discoveries. 

You’d changed as soon as you got to his house - swapping out your jeans and thick socks for a pair of comfortable sweatpants and slippers, and Din had done the same, stripping down to what could only be described as pajamas - dark gray sweats and a pullover hoodie, the sleeves pushed back to expose his forearms. The casual attire helped to put you more at ease even though inwardly, you were freaking out. Just say it. Just say it and get it over with and…

“So how many lights go on here?” He gestured to the tree with his pizza slice before raising it to his mouth and taking a bite. “We have I think 6 more boxes. Is that enough?” 

“It should be.” You eyed the tree, squinting. “We can finish the lights and then start the ornaments, and then you’ll have your first real Christmas tree, Din.” 

“Yeah.” He chewed, finishing his slice. “And I wouldn’t have it without you.” 

You hated to bring things up and potentially ruin everything, but you couldn’t keep quiet any longer. Setting the remnants of your diner down, you wiped your fingers on a napkin and then said his name. “I… have something I need to tell you.” 

His shoulders slumped immediately, Din sitting up straight and locking eyes with you. “What? Is everything alright?”

“When I was shopping earlier, I told Cara and Stacy why I picked up the tree skirt, and we started talking about you and the competition, and …” Shit this is hard. “We looked you up, Din. Looked up Mandalore, and…” Trailing off, you sighed and closed your eyes. “There was a picture… lots of pictures, actually, of your friend Fennec with your king… or your Mand’alor, and -”

“Oh.” He sounded dejected, and when you looked over at him again, Din was visibly deflated, the man looking almost small in his chair. “Why’d you decide to look?”

“Stacy looked. She just thought it was weird that I knew almost nothing about you, so she wanted to see if anything came up.”

“Did it?” 

“No.” Rubbing at the bridge of your nose, you laughed. “No, it didn’t. Just stuff about Mandalore and Fennec and Boba Fett, and beskar. But nothing about you, not even a LinkedIn profile.” He stayed quiet, and since you figured he was about to ask you to leave, you went on. I’ve already started, so… “When you said politics, Din, I didn’t think that you meant your family was close with your country’s royalty. Hell, I didn’t even consider that that was possible.” 

“My family isn’t close with them.” He stood, taking his plate to the sink. “Are you done?”

“Yeah.” You’d only eaten about a slice and a half, but your appetite was all but gone. “Yeah, I’m -” Din leaned over and took your plate, too, carrying it to the trash and dumping the contents before it joined his plate in the basin. “I’ll get my coat, Din, and -”

“Why?” He turned to face you again, arms crossed over his broad chest. “We have a tree to finish decorating.” What? I thought … “You had every right to look me up. I’m surprised you didn’t do it sooner.” 

“Din, I -” He cut you off, stepping forward and reaching out with one hand. “What are -”

“Come on. I’ll explain while we decorate.” 

A few minutes later, the two of you were back in the downstairs room, the fire roaring and Grogu snoozing in his chair. You and Din were on opposite sides of the tree, passing the strands of lights to each other as you secured them in place - but Din hadn’t said a word. Instead, the only noises that you heard were the crackling of the fire and an occasional burst of sound from the TV, turned on and playing one of the Santa Clause movies. He said he’d talk but he’s not. He’s not going to say anything, and -

“I lost my parents when I was really young.” Din cleared his throat. “I don’t really remember them much. Just small things - my mom’s laugh, my dad’s dark hair. I remember our house. But there was … an accident. A fire. I got rescued, and they didn’t.” 

“Din, I’m so sorry.” You tightened your hold on the wire, unsure of what to say. “That had to … that had to be really hard.” 

“I don’t remember much of it, like I said. But thank you.” He bent over and plugged in another strand of lights, the colors dancing over his skin, though he was frowning. “In Mandalore, the foster system isn’t like it is here. The people really care about making sure that kids are taken care of.” 

“That’s good to hear.” You figured it was easier over there, since it was a much smaller country, but decided not to elaborate. 

“Yeah.” He scoffed. “It was an interesting couple years, and I lived with a couple families, but then…” Din paused, tucking lights beneath a branch before he passed the bundle to you. “People started to notice me. I was smart. Strong. I understood mechanical things and even though I was only 10 or 11, I impressed my teachers.” 

“You’re really smart, Din. I’m not surprised that people were impressed.” He thanked you and you fought back a smile as you ducked behind the tree, winding lights around the branches there. “Did you skip grades?”

“Sort of.” He took the lights back from you, finishing with that strand and going to grab another. “I-

“You have to plug it in somewhere else.” Reaching out, you settled your hand on his to stop him. “No more than 400 connected at one place. They could short out.” He thanked you and stuck his hand into the center of the tree, reaching for the extension cord there to plug in the new lights. 

“I got pulled from school when I was 12. Moved to a private one, where I could still learn things but was also exposed to other … different opportunities.” You had no idea what he was talking about, but still stayed quiet, waiting. “I got pulled from regular school and sent to what you’d call a boarding school here. I didn’t know it at first, but it was run by the ruling family. They only accepted kids that were gifted in some way. But it wasn’t… you didn’t have to have money or status to go there.” 

“Oh.” That wasn’t what you were expecting, but it made sense to you - at least in some ways. So they really try to help these kids.

“I was an orphan. I had no one. And while I was there, I met Fennec. And I also met Boba Fett.” The king. The king was a … “I didn’t know it at first, but Boba was being set up to rule Mandalore, and he had been for years. He was older than us, and so he left the school before Fennec and I did. It was a huge surprise when he was named Mand’alor, but we were all there. We got to skip class and go to the ceremony, and I remember thinking how fucking cool it was that my friend was the ruler of a country.” 

“That would be pretty neat.” You were both sitting on the ground, working on the lower portion of the tree, and so you leaned to the side, making sure you could see him. “I bet the kids all left you alone.”

“They did but it had nothing to do with Boba. I wasn’t… I’m pretty quiet, so I mostly kept to myself aside from him and Fennec and another guy that was a couple years older - Karga. Karga was the one that hired me for my first job after I graduated from our equivalent of high school, and I worked for him for a long time - until I came over here, actually.” 

You worked in silence for a few minutes, plugging in a new set of lights and wrapping them slowly around the branches. It was a lot of information that he was giving you, but none of it seemed to be false - he hadn’t paused or embellished anything, and Din seemed to genuinely want to tell his story. 

“Hey, you still with me?” He reached over, taking the lights from you - and covering your hand with his. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just … this is a lot to process.” 

“I’m not even to the good part yet.” Din smiled, his head cocked to the side. “Boba became Mand’alor a little over ten years ago. And when he did, he pulled Fennec from what she was doing to take her with him. She got special training and became his personal bodyguard, and she’s the best I’ve ever seen.” 

“You said you were good, but she was better.” He nodded, wetting his lips. “So does that mean you’re security for him, too? How would that work? You’ve been here for a year, and -”

“Mandalore is different. We train for different things as we grow up, and one of them is something that’s now more just to honor the past.” Din closed his eyes and then reopened them, looking away and focusing on the tree, his fingers working to deftly tuck the end of the last strand of lights between the branches to hide it. “It’s not quite military boarding school level, but we did practice things like shooting and combat and …” He shrugged. “It’s normal for us. Mostly used for ceremonial stuff, but…”

“I get it.” You leaned back on your hands, eyes on him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

“It’s fine.” He leaned back, too, looking up at the tree. You watched as his lips twitched, the man’s smile apparent as he looked at your handiwork. “I’m not security for Boba, no. He asked me if I’d ever want to join the team a while back, and I said no.” Ok, so there’s one question answered. “Because that would have meant a public presence. It would have meant that people would know exactly who I am, and …” Din sighed. “That’s the big thing.” 

“I understand wanting privacy, Din.” You were still confused, though, not understanding why if they were such close friends, no pictures of Din and Boba had come up - why there was zero mention of the man’s name anywhere. “Was he mad?”

“No. Disappointed, maybe. And he knows that if he needs me, I’d be there for him, but … if I’d said yes, it would have changed his other plans, too.” Din stood and then held a hand out to you, waiting for you to take it before he helped you to your feet. You noticed that he didn’t let you go right away, instead tightening his grip on your fingers and pulling you a little closer. “Do you want to know what those are?”

“Yes.” You had no idea what he was going to say, but nothing could have prepared you for what came next. 

“In Mandalore, the ruling title isn’t inherited. It can be, and it has been in some cases, but it isn’t always. Boba was chosen, and he’s been a great Mand’alor. The people love him. But it’s a demanding job, and …” Din let go of your hand and then pulled his fingers through his hair, looking down at his feet. “The reason there’s nothing about me online - no pictures or pages or accounts or… anything is because Boba named me as his successor years ago. He has no kids and wouldn’t have any that will be ready to take over and lead in time, and so …” Din sighed. “Until the moment that it’s announced, it’s like I don’t exist. No one knows my face. No one knows my name. I’m like any other Mandalorian. But when it’s my turn to go and take that vow … that all changes.” 

“What?” You shivered, blinking furiously. “Din, that …” 

“Yeah, it’s crazy, right?” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I thought I still had time. But the last couple years, Boba’s been talking about stepping down, just because he wants to live his life, and so my time is … I don’t have as much free time left as I thought I did.” 

“So you’re going to become the Mand’alor?” Squaring your shoulders, you wet your lips. “And it’s going to happen soon, and -”

“Yes. And yes. I don’t know when, but we’re probably talking within the next couple years. I’ll have to go back and for the first time, I won’t just be a nobody that happens to be friends with Fennec and Boba, I’ll be … everyone will see me.” 

You didn’t say anything, staring at Din and fighting to keep the frown off of your face. That’s why he’s so content to just work and stay in the background. Because it’s what he wants. His admissions were a shock to you, but you believed him. 

He’d mentioned Boba and Fennec before you knew who either of them were. He’d never outright lied to you about who he was or where he was from, just kept certain things a secret. Until I asked. Until… “So you weren’t lying when you said you were a prince.”

“I wasn’t. It’s not … it’s a little different than what you’d think of when you hear the term, but …” He took a seat on the edge of the couch cushion, looking up at you. “People obviously know that I exist, you know? They’ve seen my face out in public in Mandalore. But keeping a low profile is important because if I don’t, enemies of the crown could try and use it against Boba. And against me or Mandalore, and I can’t… that can’t happen.”

“Of course not.” You sat next to him, both of you staring straight ahead and at the tree - and Grogu. “I’m sorry I made you upload your information on that website. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have even asked.”

“It’s fine. You said nothing came up when you searched, so it isn’t…” He shrugged. “But that’s why I got nervous with the flashes later, when we were …” Din trailed off. “No one knows where I am or who I am here, but I promised Boba that if I left, I wouldn’t… I just wanted some time to myself before I have to …” His shoulders slumped again, Din’s sigh heavy. 

“You don’t want the position.”  Reaching over, you took his hand without another thought, your fingers lacing with his. “Din, you -”

“I don’t. But … Boba is family and he asks me for so little. It’s not about what I want.” Din said your name, waiting until you were looking directly at him to speak again. “I like you. And I like being here, but I can’t… I can’t stay. That trip over summer was to go home and talk all of this over with him and the others. He’s starting to get things ready so that he can step down, and …” 

It terrified you - the suddenness of the anxiety that filled your chest at the thought of Din leaving, despite the fact that you’d just started spending time together. That’s not good.  “Is that why you said things couldn’t go further?” Of course it is. Of course that’s my luck. 

“Yes.” He squeezed your hand, thumb circling over your knuckle. “It’s one of the reasons. Because you deserve more than someone that’s just going to give you some small part of themselves and then give you an ultimatum without anything else.” 

You gasped at that, his words hitting you hard. It meant that he’d listened to what you’d said about James. That he understood that while you weren’t looking for a set future, you needed to know that there was the possibility of one, no matter how small. And if he’s leaving, there’s no chance. “Then why, Din? Why’d you kiss me in the first place? Why’d you -”

“Because I couldn’t help it.” He laughed, but it was a sad sound, the man’s chin dropping again. “Fennec told me it was a bad idea to get close to you, especially with everything going on, but …” He swore quietly, taking a breath. “I thought I’d be able to keep myself from getting too involved, because I knew I had to. It just … didn’t work.” 

“No, it didn’t.” He’s a prince and he has to go home, and that means he’s leaving, and this isn’t going to… You felt the tears welling in your eyes, but were determined keep them from falling. “You introduced me to your kid the first night we hung out, Din. I’d say that’s pretty involved.” 

It worked - your joke breaking the tension in the room, and when Din let go of your hand to pull you in for a hug, you let him. He buried his face in the side of your throat, and you settled your cheek on the soft tumble of his hair, one hand stroking over the back of his head and neck. He could be the ruler of an entire country at this time next year, and he’s sitting like this with me right now. You held onto each other for long moments, and when Din pulled away, it was only because you said his name, whispering the word softly into his ear. 

“Thank you for telling me. At least now I know that it’s not me or something that I did that was keeping you from wanting -”

“Oh, believe me, I want.” His eyes darkened, gaze dropping to your mouth and then rising. “You have no idea.” 

“I think I do.” It was a night for honesty, and so you gave it right back to him, allowing yourself to be vulnerable. “I want, too. But we have a tree to finish, right?” He widened his eyes, watching as you leaned in and kissed his cheek before you stood, taking the few steps toward the light switches on the wall. “And before we put the ornaments on, we need to make sure the lights are in the right place.”

Flipping the switch, the room was plunged into darkness, the tree glowing from its place by the sliding glass door.  It was self preservation - distracting yourself for your own sake - and so he couldn’t see the few tears you had to wipe away once the lights were down. “Oh, that looks … wow.” He stood and headed for the tree, reaching out to touch the needles. “We did a good job.” 

“We did.” Standing next to him, you reached out, too, adjusting a few of the lights and repositioning some of the branches. “Just trying to fill in the dark spots. It’s much easier to see them with the lights off.” It didn’t take long for both of you to be happy with the state of the tree, but before you could move over to flip the switch up, Din stopped you, one of his large hands settling on your waist. “Din?” 

“I never meant for this to happen.” Voice low, the man stepped closer, his other hand joining the first, both of your arms rising to hook around his neck. “And I’m sorry that I had to dump all this on you. It would have been easier not to tell you. To just let … to just let things go, and deal with it later.” 

“It would have.” You were toying with the ends of his hair, a lump in your throat as you spoke. “But I’m glad you didn’t. Says a lot about you as a man, Din.” He hummed in agreement and you realized that the two of you were rocking back and forth slowly in front of the tree, the lights bright enough that you knew he could see the glistening of more unshed tears. “I won’t tell anyone, by the way. Cara and Stacy, I mean. I’ll have to tell them something, but I won’t tell them the important stuff.” 

“I appreciate that.” Din leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours and taking a long breath. “I hate that you’ll be lying to them, though.” 

“Won’t lie.” You tilted your head back, lips barely apart from his. “I’ll just avoid the whole truth.” His laugh that time was real, and only seconds later he was kissing you, the man’s mouth soft as it met yours. Wait, what… no. I can’t …. This can’t… “Din, I’m sorry.” Breathlessly, you pulled away from him, your hands going to his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to -”

“Don’t apologize.” He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his lips together. “That one was kind of my fault, too.” He let you go then, his hands stroking over your sides before he stepped completely away from you, yours falling back to hang near your waist. “Ornaments?” It took you a little while to recover but when you did, you spoke with resolve. 

It wouldn’t do you any good to let yourself get upset by his revelation. Even if he was a prince, Din was still Din, and for the next week, the two of you were competition partners. You could work with him - and you would, both of you too far in to give up or drop out. One event left. One event and then we’ll go back to seeing each other at work, and that’s it 

“Yeah, Din. Ornaments.” Bending down, you picked up a few and then held them up. “So you start with the ones that aren’t spherical. And then you use those ones, the round ones? To fill in the places that need it.” 

— 

A half hour later, you and Din were finished with the ornaments, both of you standing back with your hands on your hips as you eyed the tree. It was less full than yours, the ornaments much more spread out, but with the addition of the lights and skirt, it looked good, and you hoped that Din thought the same. 

It had been fun to hang them, the two of you laughing and joking as you did it, your explanation of the way you left the back of your tree mostly bare and using it only as a place for the ugly ornaments making Din laugh hard, one hand rising to rube at his face while his shoulders shook. 

It was like his admission had changed something between you - making things almost easier, even though that shouldn’t have been the case at all. But he’d trusted you with arguably his biggest secret, something that it was clear only a tiny handful of people knew - and that spoke volumes to you. 

It would all be out in the open soon enough, but Din coming clean with you even though he hadn’t needed to was what kept you from spiraling - it kept you there, in the room with him instead of allowing you to get lost in your thoughts of what it would be like when he was gone. 

He hadn’t tried to kiss you again, but he’d still touched you - and you’d done the same - both of you navigating around the tree, ornaments in hand. It was small touches - his hand on your back, your fingers brushing his arm, Din reaching out to adjust ornaments at the same time you did - but it was comfortable, the same way it had been to play the games with him throughout the competition. Because we fit well together. 

That was a painful truth, too - and something that you’d have plenty of time to think about later - the fact that you and Din were good together on many levels, but there was no time to explore it. Or not enough time. 

When you stepped back to admire your handiwork, Din crossed his arms over his chest again, nodding. “I like it. It looks like … a real tree.”

“It is a real tree. And I’m glad you like it because you’re going to have to look at it for the next couple weeks.” He laughed again, the two of you turning your attention to Grogu only when he stood up and stretched, the dog yawning before making his way to the sliding glass door. “Figures, he slept through the whole thing and now that we’re done, he’s awake.”

“That’s Grogu. If he’s not eating, he’s sleeping. Been that way since I found him.” You moved as he spoke, your hand on the door handle - and when you pulled it open, you gasped at the breeze that blew in and brought a flurry of snow with it. “Is it still snowing?” The dog darted out past your legs, and when you turned the porch light on, Din swore from right behind you, the press of his chest against your back a surprise - but not at all unwelcome. “Shit, it’s really coming down.” 

“Yeah…” Closing the door, you slipped past him and toward the front door, climbing the steps slowly and with a sense of growing dread. If it’s snowing that hard, it’s not going to be a fun drive home. “Oh, damn, Din.” You opened the front door and stared out - both cars and the street covered in a thick blanket of white. “I didn’t think it was supposed to pick up until tomorrow, but it …”

“They haven’t plowed yet.” He was behind you again, clearing his throat. “Do you want to check the radar? Or do you want me to drive you home?” 

“I can drive.” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sighed. “I’ll just go slow. It’s only a couple inches, and if I don’t leave now, it might not stop til morning, so -”

“I have a spare room. The house was furnished when I moved in, and there’s an extra bed. Grogu sleeps in there sometimes, but he’s the only one that’s ever used it. If it’s too bad for you to drive,  you can sleep here and wait til the plows come through.” It was tempting - the thought of sleeping under the same roof as Din - but you didn’t want to appear too eager, especially after what he’d just finished telling you. Because that’s all it would be - sleeping under the same roof.

“It’s just a few minutes away. And if you drive me home, that means you have to drive back in it. Only one of us on the road is better than -”

“Neither of us out in this is even better.” He gestured to your outfit, one hand on his hip. “You’re already in your pajamas. You’re comfortable. Why risk it?”  

It was a logical question, and you had no real reason to refuse him. You already knew that he didn’t expect anything from you - that his invitation for you to stay was based on a concern for your well-being and that there was no ulterior motive. He’s just being a nice guy. “Alright.” Closing your eyes, you rubbed at your face. “I don’t want to impose.” 

“You aren’t.” He was grinning at you, the man pointing at the kitchen. “Now I can offer you a drink. I have some bourbon, I can make us a couple spiked hot chocolates?” 

“That sounds great.” Stepping away from the door and back toward the kitchen, you stopped behind one of the chairs, settling your hands on the top of the backrest. “Thanks for offering to let me stay, Din.” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” He was busying himself with a pot on the stove, heating up milk as he stirred it with a long-handled wooden spoon. “I know you’d probably make it home fine, but there’s no reason for you to go. We’re both adults, right?”

“Right.” You continued to watch him, Din adding cocoa mix to the liquid and continuing to stir, his back to you. “Will you tell me more about Mandalore, Din? About your life? I don’t know if you’re allowed to, but -”

“If you want.” He turned his head toward you, nodding. “There’s not really much to tell, though. Aside from the foster homes and boarding school, my life was normal. I dated. Played some sports. Had friends. I just had to be careful as I got older. People know I was friends with Boba, but after he took the throne and started setting up the plans for the future, we saw each other less, at least publicly.” He reached up and into the cupboard, pulling out to large mugs. “The bourbon is in that cupboard by you. Grab it?” 

You did as he asked, carrying it over and standing next to him. “Want me to pour it?” He nodded, still stirring. So you added a measure to each cup, lifting the neck of the bottle to your nose and inhaling. “So you’re still friends with him? Even though no one knows how close you are?”

“Yeah. I’m still friends with Fennec, too. We see each other a lot, or… we did, before I came here. But Boba, it’s more … formal now. It has to be. There are a few people in his inner circle that know the plan, and Fennec does too, but it’s a secret. Part of it is because it’s dangerous to identify me before I become Mand’alor, but it’s also because … if people knew? They’d try to use it to their advantage.” 

He poured the hot chocolate into the cups, setting the empty pot in the sink and then reaching into another cupboard and pulling out marshmallows. “Their advantage? What do you mean?” 

“Boba’s gotten - and turned down a hundred marriage proposals since he took the throne. None of them came before.” Oh. “If people knew that I was going to take his place, and that I’m single?” He dropped three of the fluffy cubes into his drink and then passed  the bag to you. “It would be overwhelming.”

“A lot of guys would love that, Din.” You added your marshmallows and then opened one of the drawers - the one you’d seen him grab knives from - for a spoon to stir your drink. “Their choice of women? People throwing themselves at -”

“Don’t get me wrong. Mandalorian women are something else, but …” He sipped from the cup, his eyes closing. “I’d never know if they’re after me or just using me for my title.” Oh, I didn’t… that’s awful. “Boba’s never married, either. And I think that’s part of why he wants to step down. He wants …” Din looked down, waiting until you took a drink to say anything more. “He wants a regular life. And I can’t blame him.” 

“Even though it means your life changes?” Din nodded, pointing back at the downstairs level of the house. You headed back there, curling up on the couch while Din added more logs to the fire. “Maybe it won’t be as difficult as you’re thinking. You could have stayed in Mandalore, Din. Found someone that knew you before you took the crown, let them grow into it with you.”

“Part of me’s always known that this would happen.” He let Grogu in and then came to sit next to you after turning the overhead lights off, the mug held between both hands. “I don’t like lying to people. Here, it’s easier because no one knows anything about Mandalore so it doesn’t come up, but there? It’s harder to pretend.” So does that mean he was alright with lying to me? “It was nice to get to know you without worrying. You just thought I was Din, the IT guy with the cute dog.” 

“I still do.” Swallowing another mouthful and letting the liquid warm you, you turned toward the man next to you on the couch. “That doesn’t change just because you told me the truth, Din. And we don’t need to talk about this anymore if you don’t want to. Just … give me a heads up before you’re leaving for good, alright? I want to be able to say goodbye.” 

That wasn’t what you wanted to say - you wanted to know more, wanted to question Din about his life and his friends and himself. You wanted the man to feel free to give you whatever answers he wanted to … but you didn’t want to push. Because I’m no one. I’m going to be a memory for him, and that’s… I don’t get to know everything. “I’m not leaving soon, “ he replied, setting his cup down on the side table. “ It’s not like I’ll be out of here in the next few weeks. Boba promised me at least a year, and that year isn’t up until March.”

“So I get you for another three months?” It slipped out, your eyes going wide as soon as the words finished, and you hastily set your mug down, holding your hands out. “I mean, we, here in Mistletoe, we -”

“Yes.” He leaned in, eyes on you. “You get me for at least another three months.” You were happy for the confirmation, but at the same time, dreaded the passage of time, because it meant that he was leaving - eventually. “And honestly, I don’t mind talking about any of this with you. It’s … a relief that you know. And that you didn’t walk out as soon as I told you.”

“Oh, come on. You really think that little of me?” Licking stray drops of hot cocoa from your lips, you rolled your eyes. “I wouldn’t go anywhere. You didn’t lie to me because you wanted to, you kept something really important and extremely confidential from me. There’s a difference.” Nodding in response, Din watched you wordlessly. “But you don’t have to lie to me, Din. If there’s something you can’t tell me? Just say that it’s about this, and I’ll let it go. I’ll be curious, but I’ll let it go.” 

Grogu had laid down by Din’s feet, and after you set your almost empty mug down, you reached forward, scratching between his ears. Almost like clockwork, as you bent down, you felt Din’s hand on your back, the pressure comforting. “I still can’t get over how much he likes you.” 

“Yeah, well.” You sat back up, eyes moving to Din as you turned your head. “I like him too, so…” You both laughed. “Want to find something to watch? We’re snowed in, we might as well.” 

“Sure.” He settled back and you did, too, crossing your legs and flipping through the channel schedule menu. “Hey, what’s that? Lights, Camera, Christmas? Sounds like -”

“I’m not making you watch a Hallmark Christmas movie, Din. They’re so dumb. They all have the same plot and they’re really sappy, and -” 

“But it’s a Christmas movie?” He shifted next to you, the cushions moving under his weight. “Put it on. Might be fun.” So you did, flipping to the channel and setting the remote down on the table in front of you before you settled back, too. 

It was cozy - the two of you relaxing on the couch in the near-dark, the room only illuminated by the flickering flames and the soft glow of the tree’s lights, Grogu sleeping at your feet, the snow falling outside. I could get used to this. You sighed, chewing on your lower lip. I could really get used to this, except… I can’t. 

As the time passed, you let yourself get more comfortable, Din’s arm stretched out behind you and over the back of the couch. The movie - admittedly - was holding your attention, and you caught yourself smiling a few times, the sound of Din’s quiet laughter from next to you surprising you, too. “I’m going to stretch my legs, sorry.” He moved again, lifting both of them and settling them on the coffee table while you leaned forward and moved your empty mug to the opposite end. “You can too, if you want.” So you did, the new position making it possible to sink deeper into the cushions, the heat of Din’s body next to you lulling you into a contented state as the movie played on.

You opened your eyes a while later, startled awake by the pop of a piece of wood in the fireplace, and realized that you’d fallen asleep, your body gravitating toward Din’s - your side pressed into the place below his arm and your cheek resting against the front of his shoulder. Oh, shit. He was sleeping - quiet, even breaths making his chest rise and fall, and you tried to remain still while you watched him, the man’s features relaxed. We both fell asleep. 

Grogu was back on his chair, and the fire had burned low, which meant it had been a while, the movie on TV a different one than you’d started watching. But it doesn’t really matter, they’re all the same anyway. 

You didn’t want to wake him, but knew that the right thing to do was to suggest going to sleep - separately - before he could wake up and do the same thing. Just do it. You inhaled, humming out his name. “We fell asleep, Din. C’mon. Let’s go to bed.” The words made your chest ache - you didn’t want to go to sleep in separate rooms. You didn’t want to get off of the couch, or have him remove his arm from where it had fallen to settle around your shoulders. But it’s the best thing to do. “Hey, Din.” You spoke a little louder, resting your hand on his chest. “Come on, bedtime.” 

“No.” He mumbled the word, not even bothering to open his eyes as his arm tightened around you. “Comfortable here.” You were, too - but instead of just letting it go, you opened your mouth again. 

“Your feet are propped up on a coffee table, Din. That can’t be comfortable.” 

“Then we should lay down.” He did open his eyes then - halfway - staring at you with a sleepy smile on his face.  “Couch is oversized so we’ll be fine.” 

You wanted to say no - you should have said no - but instead you peeled yourself away from him and stood, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch as you looked down at where he was still sitting. “Then lay down, Din.”  You caught the surprise in his eyes momentarily, but then he did shift, pulling his feet back and then laying down, stretching out with his back pressed against the thick couch cushions. “Is this a goo -”

“No.” His smile widened. “No, it’s not a good idea, but I want to do it anyway.” You did, too, and so you unfolded the blanket before sitting back down on the edge of the couch. I do, too. 

Stretching out next to him, you rested your head on the pillow as you pulled the blanket over the two of you, kicking your foot out so that it covered your entire body. “This alright?” You didn’t recognize your voice, the sound of it thin with apprehension. Shit. The feeling of his arm sliding around your waist and his hand settling against your stomach put you more at ease, your eyelids fluttering shut as you exhaled. “I guess so.”

“As long as it’s alright with you.” He cleared his throat and then leaned in, the man’s mouth just above your ear. “Sleep well.” His breath was warm against your skin and you nodded in reply, eyes still closed as you shifted backwards and into the firm expanse of his body. 

“You too, Din.”  He didn’t kiss you, but when he pulled his head back, you felt the tip of his nose drag along the skin directly behind your ear and then down before stopping, his arm flexing to draw you even closer. 

It would end poorly for you - and you knew it. Din would go back to Mandalore and do his duty as the named heir to the throne, leaving you in Mistletoe. He’d become the face of his country, and his time with you would be nothing but memories to recall when he thought about the past. 

There wasn’t a future with him to look forward to - no possibility of getting to know each other over multiple dates and through the changing seasons, no opportunity to talk about moving in together or taking things to the next level. Not even gonna get to go past a kiss, if he sticks to what he said earlier. 

But for the first time - and unlike with James - you were content to live in the present and enjoy each moment you had with Din while you could, future be damned. Because no matter what happens, I’ll always have this. 

It was you that nodded off first that time, Din’s arm wrapped tightly around you, your easy, even breaths in sync with each other long after you were both sound asleep.

— 

Tag list reblog coming soon! 

[heloflor]

Ok so for about a good two-three months now I had a post in my drafts about how I realized I ship Powser, and long story short I started comparing Bowser to what I think to be how most villains in media interact with their damsel in distress if they express “love” for them. Issue is, I don’t have nearly enough knowledge/examples on this topic to know how truthful this comparison is, but said comparison is also the main thing tying this post together. So when thinking of ways to remove this element while still having all the same info in this post, I kind of came up short. Plus, I like the way the post is structured as is.

In other words, here’s the post as I originally wrote it, but be aware that the comparison is probably very flawed. Maybe there’s some truth to it, probably not. In any case, just focus on the Powser side of it, the villain comparison is just there for the structure. Enjoy! (long post ahead, a bit over 3k words)

So I recently realized that I really like Powser which I did NOT expect given I’m usually much more of a “friends to lovers” type of person, and trying to understand why I like it led me to think about how villains tend to be presented in their relationship with the “damsel in distress”, and it’s actually very interesting when you compare it to Bowser.

TL;DR: Unlike most villains who showcase sexual attraction (I think?), Bowser is shown to be romantically attracted to Peach. And while his actions are still very much shitty and should be seen as such, man is he adorable sometimes ! Plus, the way his feelings are shown to be genuine makes him look better than most villains, whose “love” for their victim is portrayed as """creepy lust""" by their medias.

(Obviously there is absolutely nothing inherently wrong with sexual attraction. I’m talking in the context of medias that sometimes tend to vilify it, especially when it comes to the antagonists, hence the language used in this post.)

So the first thing that came in mind while thinking of other villains was Dis//ney’s Alad//din (the 90s/animated one) and how Jaf/ar treats Jasm/ine at the end of the movie, more specifically when he wishes for her to fall in love with him and she ends up pretending to be as a distraction.

Thing is, Jasm/ine doesn’t act like she’s in love with Jaf/ar, she acts like she’s thirsting for him, and the way Jaf/ar reacts shows that this is pretty much what he had in mind when saying he wants her to love him. This isn’t love, it’s lust.

Now, I can’t say I’m someone who watches a lot of movies, especially not live-actions ones, so take what I’m about to say with a huge grain of salt. Basically, I kinda feel like what we see in Alad/din is the norm when it comes to villain/victim relationships? Like you have those antagonists who want the damsel in distress to be horny for them, who don’t see those women as people and don’t give a shit about them, only keeping them to get what they want out of them and having no issue discarding them afterwards if they get bored with those poor girls.

Btw that’s not to say that every single villain who kidnaps someone wants to sleep with them. But when it comes to villains who claim to love their victim, there does seem to be at least some sexual tension here, or at least some uncomfortable touches.

And then there’s Bowser. To give a few examples of what he does:

- In that one 1986 anime movie thing, he gets very soft around Peach, gushing about how he’s in love with her and wants to marry her, trying to cheer her up when she’s sad, and let’s not forget that “it’s more of a bracelet, shows that my love is bigger” line with the ring.

- In the mainline “platformers” games, you have “Mario Sunshine” in which Bowser wants his son to have a mother, and “Mario Odyssey” in which he tries to marry Peach, going around the world gathering all the absolute best things for the wedding. There’s also the New Bros U intro with Bowser gently moving Peach’s chair, making sure she doesn’t get hurt by his attack, showing he doesn’t want to hurt her.

- Not sure exactly if this counts as this could be a form of objectification, but you know that cliché of villains getting that all-powerful thing they wanted and immediately betraying/discarding all the people they worked with and/or claimed to love? Well, in the Galaxy games, Bowser gets the power to create a whole new universe, and yet still takes the time to capture Peach, claiming in the first game that he wants her to rule along with him. Again, this could be a form of objectification, especially when looking at his dialogue in the intro of the second game, but it’s still interesting how Bowser doesn’t really fall on that trope, still having his army and Junior on top of Peach (btw the intro of Galaxy 2 is very funny on that front because Bowser literally has enormous powers and yet still makes a detour for Peach, thus causing Mario to be on his tail. Like, let her go dude, she’s not that into you. You got all the powers of the universe, who cares about that one specific woman when you could have literally anybody else?).

- In the first Paper Mario game, Bowser tells Peach that he would fulfill her wishes if she wants (as long as he likes them) and gushes in his diary about how he hopes Peach likes him. And in Thousand Years Doors, he keeps trying to look for her upon hearing she got kidnapped.

- In Super Paper Mario, he gets overjoyed about the wedding but still immediately shows worry for Peach when Nastasia uses her mind control on her, and in general Bowser spends the game clearly loving being able to call Peach his wife, and joins the team again in 7-2 out of concern for her safety. Same with 8-1 where for all he knows he’s about to die and yet his main concern is her safety, to the point where he's willing to ask Mario to protect her for him. His priority is not being with Peach, instead it's Peach being safe.

- In Color Splash, the first thing he does when first getting back to himself during the fight is ask if Mario brought Peach with him.

- In Origami King, he doesn’t want her to see him as a wet floor sign and later asks Olly if Peach is safe and comfortable, which as I’ve seen pointed out implies that him capturing Peach is mostly a forced vacation/sleepover until Mario arrives and she’s put on the spot for show.

(- In general Paper Bowser is a huge hopeless romantic, at least from what I’ve seen of him.)

- In Superstar Saga he helps Mario and Luigi reach the Bean Kingdom for Peach’s sake. Then in Bowser’s Inside Story his most beloved and protected memories are his memories of Peach + he makes saving her his priority towards the end. And in Dream Team, he hears a rumor that Peach might have gotten kidnaped and immediately flies all the way to Pi’illo Island to find her.

- You cannot convince me that his car in Mario 3D World wasn’t an attempt to impress Peach, given this is one of the only two games (three with Wonder) where you play as her and face against him. /hj

- In that one old comic people kept bringing up after the movie came out, Bowser spends a lot of time gushing about marrying Peach. Also despite Peach being very temperamental in this comic, I don’t think Bowser once tries to hurt her? Obviously you have the Magikoopa brainwashing her at the end which is fucked up but outside of that does Bowser ever get angry or menacing when it comes to her?

- In general, outside of the games where Peach is playable and the intro of Inside Story (which comes off as OOC for Bowser tbh, I get him being pissed off but him trying to burn Peach is just really off), do we ever get to see Bowser raise a hand on her and/or try to physically hurt her? Same for his anger, how often do we get to see him raise his voice on her? And no the sports and party games don’t count since everyone is doing the same thing to everyone else in those, and in the party games it'd be unfair if playing that one character led to Bowser going easy on the player.

Now I might be missing some more moments, especially since I’m far from the most knowledgeable on the sport/party games and some RPGs (slowly making my way through them), but there’s one thing that is very obvious: while most villains express sexual attraction for the damsel in distress, Bowser expresses romantic attraction.

Bowser genuinely cares for Peach. She’s one of his most precious memories. In Super Paper, he snaps out of the joy of getting married when Peach is getting brainwashed, showing how much he values her safety. He absolutely adores her and isn’t afraid to express it, especially Paper Bowser.

Those two instances (Inside story and Super Paper) especially really seem to lean into how much Bowser loves Peach. In Inside Story, the fact that she’s his most well-preserved memory shows just how much he values the little time he spends with her and how important she is to him, not as some pretty face but as a person he genuinely wants to create more memories with. And in Super Paper, Bleck is giving him the one thing he’s always wanted, and yet he still shows some reticence when Nastasia uses her mind control, making it look like Peach being safe and sound is more important to him than them being a couple. Idk, those two moments just really get to me when you think about it this way.

(Btw in Super Paper I adore that Peach hesitates to leave him in 8-1 because, while we know Peach is incredibly kind so of course she’d be worried for a teammate, for once it feels like Bowser actually earned it. He spends the whole game being caring towards Peach, and wouldn’t you know, being nice and respectful to someone actually makes them care for you! I swear the Powser potential from this game is unmatched!)

When most villains say “I want this woman to love me”, they usually mean “I want this woman to obey and submit to my every want”. When Bowser says “I want Peach to love me”, he means “I want to be able to wake up everyday by her side, make her smile and laugh and be happy, see her be a mother to my kid(s), learn more about her and spend as much time with her as I can”. Bowser isn’t trying to marry Peach because he wants to “own” her, he wants to marry her because he quite literally wants to spend the rest of his life by her side.

Now that’s not to say that Bowser doesn’t feel any form of sexual attraction. But since Mario is such a kids-friendly franchise, the focus is much more on his romantic feelings. Also, I'll admit, whether Bowser is in love with Peach or with the idea of Peach is up for debate.

I think that’s the main reason why so many people are quick to call Bowser sweet/adorable when seeing the way he talks about Peach. Because the thing is, Bowser is still being a complete asshole here. He’s constantly kidnapping her, putting her in a cage on several occasions, forced her to marry him like 6 different times, very often disregards her body autonomy by grabbing her (+ the kidnappings), terrorizes and sometimes even tortures/kills her people, and his phone pic in the parental controls video + the picture frames in Nintendo World make him look like a creep. Despite his feelings for her, there’s definitely a level of objectification here that should not be ignored.

Hell, I didn’t mention the 2023 movie on the list because I’d argue he was more obsessed rather than in love. Plus the scene where he proposes to her low-key feels like the very first time they meet, making his previous actions creepier (or at the very least they barely know each other, heck Peach didn’t even know Bowser likes her!). And he’s quick to use blackmail and violence against her, especially in the end. The wedding cake toppers also show he cares more about himself than Peach and sees her as an object rather than a person.

(I actually take back what I said in my movie reaction post about Bowser being like the one from Super Paper. He might be goofy when showing his softer side, which was what I was focused on when comparing the two, but he’s also clearly not as genuine and sweet as Paper Bowser. The way he mistreats his army and especially Kamek in the movie is also different from most games, most notably the RPGs since that’s when we see him interact with his people and he’s a relatively good king to them.)

Compare 2023 Movie Bowser to the 1986 movie in which he tries to get Peach involved in the wedding preparations, tries to cheer her up, never gets angry at her despite how much she’s resisting him and never once raises his hand on her. Even when she outsmarts him by making him shapeshift, he’s amused by her attempt. Literally the worse he does in this movie is grab her against her will on many occasions (and obviously the kidnaping and forced marriage, that goes without saying).

Going back on topic, despite Bowser being very much horrible in the way he approaches Peach, since every other villain out there is lusting after the woman they capture, making them appear creepy/predatory, Bowser comes off as an angel in comparison. He’s one of those rare cases of a villain who is truly sincere about his feelings for the woman he captures, and since we see other occasions of him being a sweetheart (with Junior) and a dumbass (the RPG series), he becomes an incredibly endearing character. So his feelings for Peach come off as adorable despite the bad elements because we’re aware he has a soft side so we know he’s truly sincere. Him being sometimes more of an antihero in the RPGs + his inclusion in sports games and the like probably also help seeing him in that good light.

(Also yes I’m very much aware that there’s a huge issue when it comes to how fandoms perceive female characters, and I will absolutely believe you if you tell me this is one of the reasons why you have people who talk shit about Peach so much all while defending Bowser’s actions, especially since his feelings for Peach are so rooted into his character. Oh and obviously you have the people horny for Bowser who love his softer/romantic side and value the moments where he displays this part of himself, that goes without saying.)

I’m especially surprised by the 1986 movie showing such a characterization of him, considering it came out 1-2 years after the very first Super Mario game (aka Bowser’s first appearance, at least I think?). Like imagine making a movie about those characters and going “hey you know the giant turtle monster we fight in this game? What if he was a huge lovable dork who just wanted some love in his life?”. Tbh I adore that choice.

Overall, it’s just interesting to see how Bowser differs from other villains on that front. It’s very interesting to see a villain who does pretty terrible things to a girl all the while being genuine in his feelings for her, idk it’s a very cool contrast. I also like how “true love” tends to be a motivation for the heroes, seen as something good, so it’s fun to see stories where villains have that very same motivation without it being “““twisted””” with lust. And yes I know that last point applies to many more antagonists than just Bowser, and not just for feelings like love.

And a bit off-topic but I also really like how you can easily explain Bowser’s behavior here (not justifying it tho!!!). In the Yoshi Island games, we see he was raised as a spoiled brat who was always given what he wanted, made worse by him being a monarch. We even still see some of that behavior in his adult self, for example when he gets angry and starts stomping his foot like a kid throwing a tantrum.

As a result of his upbringing, Bowser likely just doesn’t know how to take a no. He’s used to always get what he wants, and take it by force if necessary. So when Peach refuses him, he does just that, incapable of understanding why she doesn’t want him.

The 86 movie is actually an excellent example of this. In two scenes (the one with Peach outsmarting him and the ring dialogue) we see Bowser getting worked up when Peach is upset, showing he genuinely wants her to be happy. But at the same time he’s incapable of realizing that he’s the reason why she’s so upset and the one thing he should do is let her go. The ring scene especially shows it very well. When Peach throws the ring and starts crying because she doesn’t want to get married, Bowser thinks she’s upset due to the ring being too big and immediately tries to soothe her by promising to get a better ring. Again, it’s kinda crazy how this movie was made when Bowser only existed for a single year and yet they already made him genuinely in love with Peach.

I’d also add that Bowser seems to have a pretty high opinion of himself, thinking he’s awesome and shit (or maybe he’s overcompensating, that seems like a possibility). As a result, it’s possible that his mentality on the situation is “Well I’m in love with her so surely she must love me! How could she not?”, making it even harder for him to comprehend why she doesn’t love him.

Again, it doesn’t justify his actions in the slightest but it’s still interesting how you can somewhat understand why he’s like this.

And as to why I ship Powser, honestly I still have no idea ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I think it has to do with the storytelling potential of a unrequited love/it’s complicated/they have history situation in regards to their roles as monarchs, especially in the case of Peach whose character is brimming with untapped potential. I actually like to describe their relationship as “I hate the effect you have on my life but I couldn’t imagine a life without you in it” or “Our kingdoms are enemies for a good reason but if anything happened to you I’d rush in to save you without hesitation”. It's just that idea of them being ex-lovers who had a bad falling out and how Peach still cares about him to an extent and how their lives constantly intertwine with villains trying to take over their kingdoms + Bowser's kidnappings.

And since we’re talking Powser and since wondering whether they know each other or not in the movie got me to question how we can tell they know each other in the games: the best way I could describe their relationship in the games is familiar/”comfortable”, like you have the way Peach tries to convince Bowser to join the group in Super Paper, the way she talks about him in general in the Mario and Luigi games, or stuff like most cutscenes in Odyssey where she never seems afraid of Bowser.

I’ve also seen that Switch Tennis game with the evil racket and how Peach is the one who tries to get through to Bowser when he steals it, straight up saying “listen to me” which makes it seem like she knows she’s the one person who could get him to stop, or you have the first Rabbids game where she comments on how “Junior is sometimes even worse than his father”, plus the way she looks like a mother about to reprimand her child in the cutscene where Jr learns Bowser is coming home (which I find hilarious; lady that’s not your kid, I thought we’d been through this already in Sunshine!). Oh and CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE WAY SHE’S LOOKING AT HIM IN (spoilers in link) THAT CUTSCENE FROM THE NEW RABBIDS 2 DLC!!!

I don’t know how to fully explain but, looking at these kinds of interactions, you can tell that the two of them know each other, and to an extent Peach knows that Bowser won’t hurt her, hence why she’s not afraid to oppose him. It’s pretty funny actually how in the games Peach tends to be exasperated by Bowser more than anything else. Like he’s not a menace, just a weekly annoyance. And again, when you compare it to the movie where there’s only hostility and awkwardness between them, you do get the impression that they’re two complete strangers meeting for the first time. The fact Movie Peach had no idea about his feelings for her doesn’t help either. Then again, about the hostility, Peach in the games is much sweeter so maybe she shows a nicer side to Bowser because that’s just who she is.

[blackfilmmakers]

Gwiles is not a thing in their respective comics. They never dated and aren't even close friends in them. They had one crossover where Gwen kissed Miles after visiting earth-8, immediately apologized for it, said she didn't want them to feel pressured into anything, and they agreed they rather be friends. Dassit. They hadn't been in each others comics before that and haven't been in each others since. I think what's throwing is in the original atsv preview, Miles had one drawing of Gwen, and that's much more in line with how his comic character views her. He was not pressed. But they scrapped that to make it more awkward.

But Miles looking so gone on Gwen because he's mistaking unresolved trauma for deep interest in her would make sense given his age/everything he's been through/the theme of the films. And taking time to actually face/process his trauma looks like it's been setup to play a huge role in btsv.

Margo and Miles spider senses going off so specifically and having them shook also means something since the creators focus on it. The art book confirms Margo thinks Miles is cute and says she plays a bigger role than expected. Maybe just by being her confident/ brilliant/caring/funny/cute self, she helps Miles see what direct mutual attraction is like when you're talked to and treated like an equal (not a kid), don't have to constantly worry about proving your value, and aren't dealing with mixed signals. Maybe he helps her embrace the possibility of being fully present in a relationship with someone who listens to and values her, and helps her to stop isolating to avoid her trauma as well. Or maybe Miles puts the spider society behind him but he and Margo forge some other specific forever bond.

Either way, the black director knows the weight of the position he is in and is very protective of Miles, Margo and Hobie. There's often only so much we can do at times, but you can see the love for black history and culture in big/small places and interactions all throughout atsv, and places where it's a relief that a black person who cares has been present in the room to say not on my watch to things. While spiderbyte and Hobie weren't written to have a ton of screen time in atsv, every second was made the most of and they're genuinely well written/acted/drawn/animated and authentic. I also think the the writers and directors do really want to get this right, people are in for a surpise and many of the fears around btsv will be proven wrong. But given media's treatment of and white ignorance around handling black main characters, some vigilance probably doesn't hurt.

I don’t go here, so I’ll have to take your word on the comics thing

But I do think your take of Miles’ crush being a result of his trauma is plausible. Regular teen crush moments aside, the idea Miles puts so much focus onto Gwen he forgets about the others doesn’t sound like his character

But at the same time, my bar is low. We’ve had Black creators that still succumb to the stereotypes, despite all the good rep for Black stories they do. So I have to wait and see

[quinnyundertow]

may i vent a bit here? is that a yes. OK so JJK as a fandom and series as a whole has given me insane FOMO ever since i got into the anime last year, and even that was because of FOMO. but reading mangas are so brainstaking, difficult for me, i get tired for staring at a screen, in the same position, losing my attention span and getting distracted by looking stuff up for context- i couldn't ever fully finish it past the culling game arc. and now I'm sitting here in anxiety pondering if i should binge about 60 CHAPTERS, or give up and simply read the latest chapter when it comes out regardless and cry. either way im still grieving everything about this series, but i hate this culture of having to be caught up non-stop. how do all my discord homies do it??? Quinny, as someone older than me, please spare me some words of wisdom. I you're someone who def can. 🙏🤙

I’ll be honest, I think leak culture/weekly releases definitely ruins the experience for a lot of major series. I’ve seen a shit ton of anime (over 600, if I don’t keep track I forget 🧍🏻‍♀️) from being a fan for so long. Jujutsu Kaisen is the first one I’ve tried to keep up to date with weekly and it is STRESSFUL. (This is in part due to Gege but I digress) The worst part is if you try and stay on social media popular series will get spoiled for you. It is inevitable.

All that said should you force yourself to binge 60 chapters or just read the final one? In my opinion… just the final one. Before I’m crucified let me expand on this. For ME early culling game was the last genuinely good arc. It felt well thought out, some new interesting characters while keeping in the older ones we loved. It kinda went downhill from there.

If you want to just see how it ends go for it. You will see some characters change life status (alive to dead or opposite) and may want background or in depth information as to how but Gege doesn’t do that. The world is painfully not fleshed out and he doesn’t lead up to twists with breadcrumbs. They just slap you in the face. Other times there are epic moments or plot twists that don’t matter and will never be mentioned again. There are plot holes, lose ends, and times he directly contradicts himself. Gege himself has stated he wished he had done things differently. Respect for him for admitting that.

TLDR: There were some amazing epic moments in the final 60 chapters but not enough to justify you forcing yourself to read if you aren’t enjoying it. Wait for the anime to come out. There’s no shame in that. Despite the controversy MAPPA had they have done an excellent job adapting JJK. The scenes are all very close to the manga and anything they have added has enhanced the experience for me.

But hey I’m just a random weeb on the internet my opinion doesn’t matter :)

[murdererofthumbs]

So today’s episode was a wild emotional rollercoaster for Roman girlies. I honestly think that in order for me to comprehend every episode I need to watch it twice, because first watch is always an over-anxious mess, when I just want to find out what happens, and then I can actually start thinking properly when stress levels are down to normal.

But I do have some thoughts based on both the episode and what people have been saying so far:

1) First, I knew since previous episode that although Kendall was full of shit when he said he will include Shiv in everything, Roman was absolutely serious about that. And he proved it! Literally tried to run every decision by her (and that makes me so happy, because he just wants his siblings to be together and work together and be a fucking family). But on the other hand… We are all aware that Shiv will not take that under consideration, right? As far as she is aware, her brothers fucked her over with their CEO-COO positions and that is enough for her to get vindictive and look for blood. So even though I’m happy that Roman remained true to his word, I also think that Shiv will stab him in the back anyway. Because she IS the most similar to Logan (don’t come at me, I love Shiv, but these are just the facts - if push comes to shove she will leak the whole Gerri-Roman dick incident and bury her brother if it means asserting her position).

2) I think it’s becoming more and more clear that Roman is heading towards some pretty dark place (I don’t think he will be able to hold his delusions for much longer, he is falling apart at the seams and there doesn’t seem to be anything that could fill out the gaping holes inside of him). The fact that each episode of Succession is supposed to be, what, one-two days (it has to be two days in this episode at least), means that since Logan’s death none of them had any breather from the grief and pain that this loss has caused them. But unlike Kendall and Shiv who both in their own ways acknowledged Logan’s passing and made semi (and I mean very semi)-peace with it, Roman is not even near that stage. He is still very much glorifying his dad (that trauma bond is holding very strong in there), and I feel like he might also not be sleeping. You know, sleep? The time when your subconscious mind roams free and brings all your possibly repressed thoughts on the forefront of your mind? Yeah, my bet is on pretty strong sleep deprivation here. Add some extremely palpable anxiety and trying to keep everything together and you have a nice ticking bomb ready to implode at any given moment (and he kinda did implode there with Matsson but it was still very much coated in delusions and projections of his own guilt).

Also - the pills. I know some girlies last week were like “oh guys chill, it’s just advil”, but having them flashed two episodes in the row? Nah, Succession writers don’t seem like the type to provide insignificant shots, and in combination with his nervous exterior, Roman taking some sort of pills makes perfect sense. I don’t know where this will lead to, but I’m trying not to be overwhelmed by negative thoughts (you guys really need to stop with Roman-suicide predictions, just…don’t).

3) Last thing is that as far as we are aware, Roman still doesn’t know that Kendall was the one behind leaking negative stuff about Logan to the media. I feel like they didn’t even get to the good (bad) stuff yet. And can you imagine what will happen then, considering how fucking unstable Roman was in this episode (without all that bullshit adding to his mental state)? Yeah, I don’t wang to imagine, but it will be really fucking bad. My prediction and that might be a stretch, but for some reason I feel like it will all culminate during Logan’s funeral (which I assume will be one of the episodes, considering Connor’s phone call and him sending Roman pics of their dead dad (!!!)). Both the shit about Logan and Roman’s downfall will probably come crushing down at the most difficult moment, where he will actually have to acknowledge that Logan is not only dead, but also very much a piece of shit and abuser.

Anywho, this show is a slaughterhouse and I both love it (derogatory) and hate it (affectionate).

[f0point5]

What is the conspiracy theory that you think is going on?

It’s not a fully formed theory but I’ve got two theories.

Either the FIA have stepped in and given RB and the media a party line on how to approach this conversation. Like they’ve said, this is not a good look for the sport, we can’t have people booing during anthems and we can’t have the world champion laughing it off and saying well I don’t care who doesn’t like because it’s making it worse. Because I haven’t seen Max talk so much about the booing ever, he really elaborated on those questions and the vibe I got was not that he was comfortable doing so. Also, it seems like they are trying to distance this from being specific to Max. While Max normally takes ownership of the fact that people boo him and don’t like him, he was speaking very generally in the sky interview, even talking about how this is an issue in other sports, talking about “an anthem” rather than the fact that the booing is targeted at him. Even when he disagreed with the reporter about the booing being for the governor, he didn’t really elaborate on it being targeted at him. In Checo’s interview, the interviewer avoided saying Max’s name or even Checo’s, just said “rivalries”. It all seems like a collective gaslight that this behaviour isn’t specifically targeted at Max and rather than Max being typically blunt and unbothered he seems to be skirting the issue, and imo looked a bit unhappy, which he normally doesn’t when discussing these things. Makes me think the direction they’re taking with talking about it is not something he was consulted on. Also, as I said I feel like the interviewers are pulling punches a bit with it as well.

The other theory is that there is reason to be believe the safety concerns are more than just “precautions”. Not that I’m saying Max is JFK or anything. But again, I just feel like there’s a marked difference in how things are being spoken about this weekend. And the use of “could lead to something unsavoury” when interviewing Checo…what an odd way to say booing. Just say that. And Checo saying he doesn’t worry about it but going on to stress that everything needs to stay on track while looking a bit more thoughtful than I remember seeing him….you wonder what rumours are really circulating around the paddock. Because it’s been reported that there’s been threats against Max to the extent RB has insisted on a bodyguard and yet I’ve never seen the RB camp be vaguer with their words.

I might be fully losing it and just living in denial that the hate has finally got to Max because I really picked up some odd vibes from him in that interview.

Being a conspiracy theorist is fun though 😂😂😂

[celestial-ringleader]

So I read Rogue and Gambit #1 and I have some thoughts

I haven’t been keeping up with modern X-Men comics since I read (and was subsequently disappointed by) Excalibur and only chose to read select few comics if they seemed good or had characters I was interested in seeing. So far it has not been great trying to find any decent storylines since they’re all bland to me and play into the whole “Krakoa is great” shit with no real depth. With all that being said, when I saw that they were making another volume of Rogue and Gambit but set in Krakoa-era, I had some hope it could be pretty okay.

Until I saw the preview pages.

Usually I don’t like it when fans judge an entire run based on its first book because the plot hasn’t had a chance to really carry on and we as an audience haven’t gotten the chance to see the character development yet, to me to judge an entire run based on its first book is just not a good way to examine media, especially a comic book. However with this first issue of R&G...it’s not a promising look for the series.

Obviously I went into this wanting to read for Remy, and since this is a series where he plays a prominent role (I mean he’s in the title for fucks sake) I wanted to see him actually do stuff instead of just standing in the background for ten pages. And yeah, while he did do stuff in this comic it unfortunately led me to be even more disappointed.

This comic opens up with him drunkenly fighting off members of the Thieves Guild after being ghosted by Rogue because in her words “something came up” and not elaborating much further. After that, his entire purpose in this comic is to be the incompetent husband who gets into antics and everything he says is played off as him being dumb or not understanding; in fact the entire time Destiny was there, she spent any interaction she had with Remy criticizing the fuck out of him and claiming that his suspicions of her are baseless and dumb. And as much as I like Irene, him being suspicious of her just appearing out of nowhere and telling Rogue and him to go seek out Eden because she had a vision makes a lot of sense. He’s always been the type to be skeptical of other people’s intentions and not taking anything at face value. But despite that, not even Rogue thought to maybe...idk...trust her husband’s gut instincts a little bit???

And while this comic is meant to be a lighthearted one focusing on Rogue and Remy’s married life, it has only shown how dysfunctional their relationship is. Apparently after all this time has passed, neither of them had talked about a very basic topic of 1) how to make time for one another and 2) how to respect one another’s time away from each other. And when this is brought up when Rogue says they’re not going to talk about it while Remy’s drunk, Remy proceeds to say “We haven’t had this conversation sober.” which is something serious and very telling about the apparent lack of communication.

Unfortunately this scene is followed by something comedic which just makes it even more alarming. I mean there was an implication that Remy gets into situations like this so often that it’s an “old habit”.

I’m trying to keep an open mind about this comic, for all I know this could all be intentional and then lead to something pretty cool to read, but right now this doesn’t seem like a promising start. Neither of the leads are written particularly well, Rogue is written as being uncaring about Remy and doesn’t try to defend him after being the butt of the joke so often; not just in this book, but in most modern x-books.

This book is not awful but it’s definitely not making my anxiousness about this run any better. I’ll wait on making any hard and fast claims about this comic until like the third or fourth issue, but until then consider me skeptical and a little annoyed. Maybe it’s because I’m just really not a fan of romy, but even this feels like we’re being given crumbs and expected to just eat it up because “something something nostalgia”.

Anyways this got long and I’m tired so hopefully me screaming into the aether at least makes sense kjfbvkdjv

[gacmediadaily]

Actress Danica McKellar expressed her gratitude this Thanksgiving and she spoke about her new original Great American Family film, which will premiere on Saturday, November 25.

Working with Damon Runyan

She co-stars in “A Royal Date for Christmas” along with Damon Runyan. “Damon is fantastic,” she exclaimed. “I previously worked with him in the film ‘Very, Very, Valentine’ back in 2018, where he played the ‘other guy.’ We had this breakup scene and he got emotional, and it was a beautiful performance.”

Synopsis of the film

In this movie, Bella Sparks (Danica McKellar), owner of Bella Sparks Couture, takes on a demanding new client “Stefan” (Damon Runyan) to outfit for a week of high stakes meetings and events after his luggage goes missing.

Stefan asks Bella to be his “official plus one” for many of the formal soirees, a request Bella accepts with good humor. Imagine Bella’s reaction when she accidentally discovers “Stefan” is Stefan William Francis Brown, the Duke of Tangford.

“This duke went through a public, messy breakup, and he asks Bella to be his platonic ‘plus one’ for his event so that he can avoid questions about the breakup,” she said.

“I find myself with this unusual job to both dress him and accompany him to these events, and of course, I get attached pretty easily to him. We both have hearts that need healing,” she added.

Playing Bella in the movie

On playing the role of Bella, McKellar said, “I relate to her in some ways because she has given up on love, and here comes along this perfect fairytale prince and she can’t believe it. She doesn’t believe it at first. I am on my second marriage, and I found my fairytale love the second time around. We’ve been married nine years now, and we celebrated our 10th anniversary of our first date and I am so grateful.”

“My character, Bella, gets to go on the same journey of thinking that fairytales can’t come actually true, and then she realizes that they can,” she added.

“I am so thrilled about this movie. I think it was totally meant to be. I think audiences are going to swoon,” she said with a sweet laugh.

Thanksgiving of 2023

McKellar expressed that she is thankful for so many things this Thanksgiving holiday. “I am thankful for my family, and for the opportunity to tell these beautiful stories, in order to brighten people’s days,” she said.

“Hopefully, that will help provide an escape, especially in this crazy world we live in these days but also to model aspirational behavior. These films really provide that, and if we all acted more like these characters, we would have a better world to live in,” she elaborated.

“I like it when movies like these put positive things into the world, so I am grateful to be a part of that,” she added.

Cameron Mathison

McKellar had great words about actor Cameron Mathison, who recently inked a multi-picture deal with Great American Family. “That was fantastic,” she admitted. “Cameron is a great guy! We’ve been friends for a while now. I hope I get to work with him on a Great American Family movie.”

2023 Christmas Con

McKellar is also looking forward to Christmas Con, which will take place on December 8, 9, and 10, 2023, at the New Jersey Expo Center in Edison, New Jersey. “That will be a blast, especially to meet all the fans. It will be a lot of fun,” she said.

Closing thoughts about her new Great American Family movie

“I will be live-tweeting during the premiere,” McKellar told her fans. “If they use the hashtag #aroyaldateforchristmas and if they tag me handle, I can see it for sure.”

“I am so grateful for my fans, especially for tuning in and for interacting with me on social media,” she concluded.

To learn more about actress Danica McKellar, follow her on Instagram and Twitter.

[dearestones]

Twisted Wonderland Matchup: Vil Schoenheit

@supergigabigboybabechad Request: Heyhi! Romantic twst matchup plspls!!

Im told i have strong aura with my appearance. I have dark hair at shoulders with bangs and hot pink dyed roots that streak to frame my face. Looks? Im a handsome girl! Im not exactly an extravert (lovealonetime) but id say ive nifty social skills. Definetly above average. I love fashion. i sew a lot and i get complements on my look! I love spoiling people best way to explain is examples my friend said she wishes a bakery sold macarons and i made her some another said she wanted leg warmers so i made her some! Personality wise im really cheeky i guess would be the way to describe it sassy and attitude are words i get. I love winning. I have a sharp tongue i think i have a creative way of thinking that translates into the way i speak. I love being there for people i feel like its my whole purpose. I do it as much for myself as i do for others. I like to think im smart and pick things up easily but maybe im just audacious. anecdote: i had weird interests and decided i wanted to do lock picking so i got this set for cheapsies and carried it everywhere. I literally only ever opened the practice lock those things come with but i showed off a whole bunch at school anyways.teacher overheard and asked mw to show her by opening a locked cabinet. I didnt wanna back down and embarrass myself so i just assumed i could do it.took me a good five minutes and i was shaking the whole time but yeah i was a whole show off and i still am confidence is key though right?

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.

After going through the description given, I have determined that you are best paired with Vil Schoenheit! 

Vil appreciates your confidence in both your bold and daring personality and of course your physical appearance! The key to true beauty, he believes, is to embrace and know who you are from the inside out. Since you are confident in yourself, it is easy to see the beauty that is brimming from your very being. 

Furthermore, he appreciates your being a handsome girl. Some of the best parts about beauty is that there is no one or true way to view beauty, only that you are constantly improving and becoming your best self. If he may say so, he likes to believe that he is a beautiful boy—and as long as it’s not in mockery, he will fall to his knees if you call him such. (Please praise him, he loves hearing compliments from your pretty mouth).

An ambivert who is also quite social! That is a great boon in Vil’s book! As a social media influencer, it’s important that his image not be jeopardized by those who could inadvertently tarnish his good name. He has faith in you, of course, but he admires your personality and will give you your desired alone time if you so wish it. 

You sew and love fashion? Oh my, what a pair you two will make! Vil often keeps a spare sewing kit in his bag if he ever rips his uniform or if he spots one of his dorm residents missing a button. Despite that, however, he never has the time to create original sewing projects. Perhaps, if you’re willing, you can show him what you’re working on? Or maybe the both of you can have a small little date together where he memorizes his lines for his newest role while you work on your sewing! The image is such a lovely sight, please indulge him. 

Spoiling someone is always great as a reward. However, please don’t spoil his more… unrefined dorm residents. Some of them need to learn how to improve and embrace their inherent beauty. That said, feel free to spoil him, but not too much! A part of Vil believes that he needs to earn his way into success and reward. (Be sure to remind him that he doesn’t need to earn or work for your affection!)

Cheeky you say? Well now, you better watch your tongue… Vil knows how to give as good as he gets, especially since the media isn’t as pretty or as kind as some people make it out to be. If you do verbally spar with him or make your wit that much more apparent, he’ll gladly go to toe with you—he will not accept defeat that easily!

Creativity is also a wonderful boon, especially in the industry that Vil works in. Don’t be afraid to tell Vil what you're thinking about. Chances are he’ll like your ideas or even expand upon them to make them even better. 

If you ever see Vil feeling down or brooding about how he doesn’t seem to think that he’s on par with Neige, be there for him. He has support from his Vice Housewarden and a few other friends, but he’ll cherish your commitment to him and your being there for him cheers him up.

Your confidence always astounds! Once Vil hears your story about how you picked a lock at your teacher’s behest, he might scold you for not practicing on other locks so that you may be prepared. Nonetheless, he admits that confidence is a trait that not many people have, especially to the extent that you clearly exhibit. While you seem to be a bit too reckless at times, your inner beauty shines through and honestly, that’s why he loves you. 

Overall, the both of you bring out the best in each other. Vil may be overbearing at times and you may be a bit too bombastic and spontaneous for Vil’s tastes, the both of you get along pretty well and that’s what matters in the end.

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If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

[chrisevansluv]

In my opinion, this whole situation looks like something that was never supposed to be public info and has basically gone down hill since it came out. And because of that, I don’t think it’ll last very long, probably until February or it may even stretch into March at the most. I do think that Chris and Alba were hooking up on/off, but as time went on fans were getting suspicious of everything. The innocent, real-life Cap, ready to settle down Chris was beginning to be questioned and picked apart. Him seeing or hooking up with someone half his age, when it’s only assumed he wants someone with his shared life experience meaning someone around his age. So the narrative that needed to stick and was pushed is that he’s still the same guy, he’s actually in a serious relationship with someone, and that’s he’s finally found the one who he’s ready to share the type of life he’s been spewing about wanting for so long. But he nor his team were ready for the backlash or scrutiny that this whole thing brought. Getting called horrific names like groomer, pedo, and pervert was something that they’d never think they’d see. Fans taking off the shades and seeing him for who he really is. A grown man who has no problem liking or hooking up with younger women despite calling their same-age counterparts “kids”, and all of the babying and blindly defending him was done for next to nothing. Which sadly, has left a lot of his fans feeling manipulated and betrayed. Especially with some unfortunately getting blocked on social media. His words didn’t match his actions and it’s a hard pill to swallow. And I do see why some people believe he isn’t serious about her, or doesn’t take this whole “relationship” serious. Look at his most recent relationship. He was one of the reasons a marriage came to an end, and proudly with his chest out, went public with a relationship within the same time frame his new girlfriend was announcing her divorce. Openly took her to places with him like Sydney, his family went to her movie premiere, and she even blended in with his family while being at WDW twice. Look at Londongate of 2020. Although we all knew that was definitely a PR stunt and an image cleanup (mainly for Lily herself), his whole attitude and body language said that even though it’s fake he was actually into the moment. He was never stiff, he actually touched her back in a way that showed he was engaged with her, and even though both of their faces were covered they had a good laugh or two with the duty they were given. But with Alba things seem off. Throughout their “whole year” together, not a single person ever spotted this man with a new woman. When it’s finally announced they’re together and they do their first public walk, he looks overtly covered up (even though his clothes & signature cap gave him away), very stiff, and their touch doesn’t look like a genuine “we’re so happy, we can’t stop touching each other” way. He preferred to keep his hands at his side, in his pockets, balled into a fist, or hold his own belongings. This second go-round was not much better even though it was very shortly seen. While she is out in the open and deciding to just go face free despite wearing sunglasses, here he is again overtly covered up. Instead of a signature ball cap, he takes it a step further by where a full fledge bucket hat. One that covers his entire head and hair. He dons sunglasses and an entire mask that’s just seated right under the shades. You wouldn’t know that was him if it wasn’t for her showing off her infamous back tattoo. We can say he wore a mask for work, but why didn’t his best friend and assistant whose also there in the this second walk wear one to? He works with Chris on set day in and day out, if the case was to protect himself from catching anything then his friend would be wearing one too. Alba not so much, but definitely those two. Both sides of the spectrum have opinions on this matter, and it’s better to respect it than fight about whose right and whose wrong.

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[jasper-rolls]

okay i’ll explain because i’ve watched far more south park than necessary as a teenage boy and have also run into the ridiculous rabbit hole of south park shipping fandom

the first half of this, which i feel like i really shouldn’t even need to explain, is that those inclined to view media with yaoi shipping goggles can do so with very little to go off. south park, in the years it has been running, has developed a vast cast of male characters who are in effect prime shipping bait, no matter how little justification there is for the ship. the show itself has made fun of this with its shipping episode, where a group of asian girls (they’re not given names, they’re just “the asian girls”), shows up at South Park School and immediately start drawing shipping fanart of two of the characters - said fanart was sent in by fans on request from the showrunners.

like, this is the site that had a sustained fandom in 2012 shipping a one note dr seuss villain with an alternate version of himself. i feel like you can’t really be surprised that a long running cartoon with a largely male focused cast got some people to start wondering what it would be like if the little paper racist puppets kissed

the other half of this is more philosophical

so as other internet scholars have posited, south park’s driving philosophy is, at its core, “the status quo is fine, and asking it to change is something only idiots or charlatans care about”. this is a philosophy that runs very in tandem with both teenage boys who wish people would stop whining about that politics thing, and conservative beliefs.

but, in the true socratic method, if you let someone talk long enough, they will end up making an argument that runs counter to their own stated beliefs - and a show doesn’t get to (checks notes with despair) 26...seasons...without sometimes making a liberal argument. in between the years of blatant homophobia, transphobia, racism, sexism, anti-semitism, just...the whole ragged riot of shitty jokes, there have been occasionally moments where these characters have, by the sheer power of their show having not been fucking cancelled yet, occasionally barfed up something nominally progressive that happens to align with “stop asking things to change”

like, for example, the episode in which butters is sent to a conversion camp for gay kids, and the episode ends with him saying “leave the gays alone, they’re probably fine and happy” (there’s like...a gag the whole time about butters thinks gay is referring to the archaic “joyful” definition of the word). i feel like they’ve managed to accidentally something say trans-positive at some point given they’ve had mr/mrs garrison around for a longggggg time before transgender people were a hot button issue, but i cannot remember specifics because i have a cold right now and it was over a decade ago.

if you wanted to make the argument that south park is actually liberal, there’s enough material between their largely conservative polemic at this point that you could make a post of this length and convince someone - and it turns out, a lot of fans do that. they will make gifsets of gay moments sincerely (because this show has a lot of “wouldn’t it be funny and gross if they did something that looked gay” jokes), they will make posts about the Good PoC Representation the show has, without even blinking as they post the characters Token Black and The Asian Girls, and the guy whose accent makes it sound like he’s calling his takeaway business that he owns “shitty wok”. they will make headcanons about the characters being gay and trans based on moments that within the text of the show, are clearly meant to be jokes at the expense of the characters and the groups being targeted, which like. guys. i cannot stress this enough: the straight people can keep stan marsh and eric cartman. we do not need to reclaim them.

there has been some level of argument that the fans of this nature don’t actually watch the show, and while i could potentially believe that, i think that is underestimating the power of yaoi shipping eye blockers. when your main form of interaction with a fandom is about looking a bunch of 8 year old boys voiced by a pair of 50+ year old men, thinking about which ones fucking would make for the hottest art, it apparently lets you look past a lot of garbage

so that’s how we get to “people ship south park characters and think they would have neopronouns and be anti-racism” glad you came with me on this journey. i need breakfast

the difference between family guy queer headcanons and south park queer headcanons is that people who are like "peter and lois are a tft bi couple" and post memes of the characters serving cunt are like. AWARE of the comedy of treating family guy characters like their from euphoria where as south park kinnies seem to unironically be convinced that their favorite shitty racist children would use neopronouns and have "proshippers dont interact!!!" in their twitter bios.