#but there is a very Real Conscience that they both would like to ruin this very much

[dayurno]

i need my kevjean freaky and weird and obsessive and worrying to the general public

abso-fucking-lutely i need it to be oppressive to be around them. i need it to be a breathing living thing you can feel if you step into their orbit. like it HAS to be bad and it HAS to be awkward and you HAVE to feel like you're intruding on something even if you've known them for years. i need kevjean to be something the trojans do a wellness check on jean for. i need kevjean to feel like a karmic debt they will have to keep paying for the rest of their lives. you know? it has to be weird. it HAS to be weird

anyway to me they are like this and they wouldnt even have to have fucked to know it

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 4 - JEONGIN

TITLE: Weeding out the weak

PAIRING: Jeongin x reader

SUMMARY: After almost two weeks of Jeongin not allowing you to touch yourself, greed forces you to cave which only leads you to be caught by him in his bed trying to get yourself off. Despite pleading with Jeongin for him to fuck you, he finds a better solution by only giving you half of what you want.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: slightly mean dom-Jeongin, sub-reader, ruined orgasm, female masturbation, fingering, swearing, begging.

KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST

KINK: Voyuerism

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @lizzekat

Jeongin is not a very tortuous person. He doesn’t ever actively go out of his way to make you upset and never would in the future. But this time, he had done it. You had reached a limit you never thought he would bring out of you and it all started with a bit of teasing.

It was just an innocent night out with Jeongin at a club and restaurant which quickly escalated into a steamy round of bathroom sex at the back. Jeongin was pissed that you had him so riled up enough to fuck you in public that he decided to put one rule in place for you to learn your lesson; no touching. 

He wasn’t going to touch you and you weren’t allowed to touch yourself in place of that. For how long was the real question that you started asking yourself when it had been a full week of no sexual contact whatsoever.

But that’s the dynamic between you and Jeongin. You both love slotting into your roles of dom and sub here and there and that rule just happened to be part of it. 

It was a painful mistake to think it was going to be easy without being touched or not being able to touch yourself. But that was after the fact that your sex drive had been satiated by getting railed by Jeongin. In the days after, the urge began creeping up whenever you felt horny, and Jeongin managed to take advantage of it.

He fed into your needs by getting handsy with you; groping your tits around the house, smacking your ass as you walked past him, kissing your neck from behind. But not anything more other than that, and it was frustrating.

"Why can't you fuck me?" You would ask him earlier into the second week.

"I told you," Jeongin started. "No touching until I say so."

"Surely you can now, it's been more than a week," you pleaded.

"No."

"Then can I please touch myself at least?" you questioned. "I need it so bad."

"Then you should've thought about it prior to acting up last week," Jeongin responds sharply.

As a result of the harsh reinforcement of his rule and words, it's led you into a state of being completely starved for touch. Sex had been on your mind a lot more than usual, specifically, the things that Jeongin has done to you in the past. It was almost like detoxing from him entirely.

However, up until now, when you're in bed watching a movie while Jeongin is out with friends, you still think about it. The fact that the film you're watching is relatively raunchy, doesn't help the circumstance that you're in.

It forces you to think about Jeongin - his cock, the way that he fucks, his fingers, his warm, wet mouth. A moan slips past your mouth just thinking about it. The invisible chokehold that he has around you begins to loosen when the idea of touching yourself slips into the cracks of your conscience.

'What Jeongin doesn’t know won't hurt him' is the phrase you tell yourself when your hand starts slipping down the front of your underwear. 

There’s a wash of relief that you feel, the split second your fingers reach your clit, already gathering the wet slick that has started up from thinking about Jeongin. Your thoughts run rabid, tracing back to the times where Jeongin has fucked you so good. 

“Jeongin…” you mutter to yourself, eyes fluttering closed as you pick up the speed of your fingers. 

With the whole house to yourself, you have free reign to be as loud as you like - which is usually the case if Jeongin were with you. But there was something deliciously dirty about getting off while he wasn't there. Maybe it was the fact that you were completely breaking the one rule he had for you, or maybe it was the thought of potentially being caught.

Regardless of the matter, Jeongin knew that both were the case when he arrived back home early. He even announced himself as he walked in through the door, but your moans seemed to drown his voice out that you had no clue he was back.

His ear picked up the faint, muted sounds coming from the bedroom and proceeded to investigate with the inkling in the back of his mind that he knew what it was. Jeongin could see the glow of the TV from the slightly ajar door, but the sounds became much clearer when he pinpointed your moans.

"Mmm, fuck Jeongin, please..."

His throat ran dry for a few seconds. So this is what you look like when you're all alone and touch yourself? Jeongin needed to watch you like this more often; vulnerable, horny, helpless, and needy.

So he stood there, watching you for a good few moments where you progressively became more vocal and frenetic with your movements. He himself can't not feel horny when he sees you like this, so just when he thinks you're about to reach the very tip-top of your orgasm, Jeongin swings the door open.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Your hand retracts away from your clit, so startled that the wave of pleasure you were building yourself up towards dissipates as fast as you could possibly comprehend that Jeongin was standing at the door. With your heart pounding against your chest, there’s a few seconds where you both look at each other, dead in the eye only for you to realise that he is actually standing there. 

“I…I thought you were out,” you stammer, hoping desperately that what you’re doing isn’t what it seems to him. 

“I was,” Jeongin answers. “And now I’m back. So I’ll ask again, what are you doing?” 

You sit up, still panting and fed up, “I’m horny so I don’t care about your stupid rule anymore. You haven’t touched me properly in two weeks and I haven’t been allowed to touch myself either, I’m done with it.”

Jeongin feels a slight tinge of guilt, but he doesn’t show it in his expression. He may have gone overboard with pressing up behind you at certain times, groping you or feeling you up whenever he got the chance. But, you still disobeyed him. 

He takes off his black blazer and folds it neatly once before draping it over the back of the chair in the corner of the room. As he walks over to you, he’s unbuttoning the sleeves to his white dress shirt and rolling up his sleeve.

“You can take my fingers,” Jeongin says impatiently, sitting next to you but on the edge of the bed. “That’s all you’re getting.”

Better than nothing. 

At the rate you’ve been going at for the past two weeks, just about every inanimate object looks mountable to you. Therefore, you are taking whatever it is that Jeongin will give you. 

He starts by spreading your legs apart for himself and uses the tips of his fingers to glide delicately and softly over your pussy. It doesn’t take long for them to be deliciously slick with your juices while the wet sounds makes you grip at the hem of his jersey. 

He then takes it upon himself to remove all of his rings that are always hot to look at but are now a barrier in this sense - for you. 

“Wetter than usual you are,” Jeongin voices his observation aloud, making you flush with shame before his hand returns to you. “Is this what happens if I neglect you for too long?”

You throw your head back when he teases your entrance with just the tip of one finger. He pulls back and goes in a bit deeper, enough to make you start audibly moaning. Using this method a few times, he was to be sure that you’ve had some prep, regardless if you started but couldn’t finish it.

Plus his fingers are very different from yours and they have never been able to do the trick like him.  

“Yes, baby, feels so good,” your eyes flutter shut. 

“Yeah?” He reaffirms and then takes into consideration how hard you're gripping around his fingers. “I’m not going anywhere, you can relax."

“I can’t help it,” you cry out pathetically, gripping the pillow behind your head. 

The ridge of pleasure fast approaches and Jeongin can feel you clenching sporadically around his fingers, watching his digits become increasingly wetter all the way down to the palm of his hand. When your moans become more strained and stagnant and when you start calling out his name, Jeongin makes the most malicious decision and retracts his entire hand from you. 

Your eyes flash open, clenching around an emptiness as you cum. 

“N-No! Please, please, please! I wanna-I almost-”

“Almost what?” Jeongin interrupts your babbling. “Almost came without my permission? As if.”

You throw your head back and try to swim in what’s left of the diluted pleasure Jeongin stripped from you. But no matter how hard you tried, it was no use. There was no intense surge of euphoria or tingly sensation that would spread throughout your body. 

“Cry about it,” Jeongin shrugs carelessly. “You knew what the rule was and yet you still went ahead and broke it.” 

At that moment, you could have actually cried. His words were a clear sign of ‘fuck around and find out’. So long as he is stern and strict with you about any rule that you both agree to implement, Jeongin will uphold it until the day he dies. 

"I couldn't help myself," you whine while your legs are still clenching and rubbing toghether.

"Clearly," Jeongin replies sarcastically. "Now you know for next time that your actions have consequences."

"There won't be a next time, I promise I'll be good," you swear to him.

Jeongin raises an eyebrow at you, "don't tell me one thing and then go and do the other angel. You'll need to prove it to me in the meantime."

---

A/N: I'm a real...slut for mean Jeongin...also sidenote, this was originally meant to be a 'mutual masturbation' piece but I went with voyeurism since of the mean!dom trope that I ran with.

[toweringclam]

Limbus OC: Vidocq

Name: Vidocq Gender: Female Age: Older, possibly 40s Height: 5'10" Weapon: Justice (a short truncheon) Color: Police Blue (#374f6b) Emoji: 🚨 Hair: Brown with streaks of grey Skin: Mediterranean Build: broad-shouldered but slim and lanky Literary Reference: Javert, from Les Miserables by Victor Hugo.

Attire: Wears her uniform exactly to regulation. She's the only one who buttons her shirt all the way to the top, with her tie tightened like a noose.

EGO: "Chute de la Barricade." A massive barricade raises from the ground, lifting up Vidocq. Near the top, yet not at the pinnacle, she says, "To remain in my former uprightness would not suffice..." then kicks it, causing a cascade of random objects that fall on the enemies for AOE damage. A close look at the barricade shows it's made of symbols of law and justice like police cars, gavels, blind justice statues, etc.

Assessment: A coin balanced on the edge. Her demeanor is strict and authoritarian, but fraying at the edges. Violation of the letter of the law and foolhardy adherence to the law are likely to be equally upsetting. Allowing her to enforce discipline amongst the others will give her a sense of order. However, if she starts thinking that she's actually in charge, questioning her ethics or undermining her authority will unmoor her and make her easier to control.

Background: In a District where Order reigns supreme, she was born in the worst of circumstances: Inside a jail. From an early age Vidocq was branded as a criminal in the making and treated as such. She internalized this idea, but also recognized that the same traits that made her a natural criminal also made her a natural enforcer of the Law.

Vidocq joined the Wing security forces and at first they gave her the worst, lowest-ranking positions like overseeing the very jail she was born. Her commitment to guiding principles of Order, Law, and Justice brought her attention and she quickly rose up the ranks. However, that prison also sowed the seeds of her downfall, for there was when she first met a prisoner named Jean, doing hard labor for the crime of stealing bread to feed her starving niece.

Fate had bound the two together. Wherever they went, the other would follow without even realizing it. At every turn, Jean bested her, but for some reason showed Vidocq mercy even as she ruined Jean's every attempt at building a new life. This made no sense. In Vidocq's mind, there was only black and white, good and evil, order and chaos. If someone did not strictly abide by the Law they were a criminal. The only path to redemption was the one she herself took, of hunting down those who were inherently criminal.

It came to a head during a revolt by the Yurodiviye. Vidocq tried to infiltrate the rebel forces, but was quickly found out and set to be executed. Jean not only spared her, which Vidocq could rationalize. She saved her life. Stuck her neck out for her long-time nemesis. Later, when the barricade fell and the Wing forces overran the rebels, Vidocq finally found Jean at her mercy. Yet should couldn't do it. This criminal who had so defined her life had shown her mercy she herself had never given anyone.

Suffering a crisis of conscience and her entire worldview collapsing, Vidocq hurled herself into a river, but her suicide attempt failed. She lived, but now she herself was branded a traitor. Everyone believed she had been in league with Jean and the Yurodiviye for all these years. She joined with Limbus with the promise that they would arrange one final meeting with her nemesis.

(Note: The name actually comes from a real-world criminal-turned-policeman, who served as the inspiration for both Javert and the entire "consulting detective" genre)

[maya-the-skaven]

Much Ado About Rats: A Skaven Story

Greetings everyone and welcome to the very first of my series of posts that will follow as I write my fanfiction about Skaven in the Warhammer: Age of Sigmar setting. While my fanfiction is something rather private and will probably go through a long and thorough process of writing, editing, proofreading and even rewriting before I am comfortable publishing it, I would still like to talk about its worldbuilding, its characters and my personal headcanon on all matters Skaven.

It's easy to consider Skaven as just cannon fodder for the good guys of the setting, nothing but a mass of hungry and inherently if not comically evil vermin that exist only to multiply, destroy and die, not too dissimilar from the Tyranids of the 40k setting. They represent all the worst traits both on individual and societal level and, more importantly, they're not human and kind of ugly and monstrous, you'd get weird looks if you told anyone you empathise with them, similar to reactions you'd get from the common audience if you said you feel nothing but pity for the orcs of the Lord of the Rings setting.

However, to me the Skaven are much like the Imperium of the 40k - they are independent individuals trapped in and molded by from their very birth to their rather short death by a highly institutionalized and hierarchical society with ruthless inner politics, warlordism and a merciless system of economics and labour. The Skaven who are not ready to do everything in their power to survive and chase the power are either destined for death or slavery. They fanatically worship a god that doesn't care that much for his children if not bestows constant malice onto them, but any deviation from that worship is tightly controlled by a tyranical sect of wizard-priests. The Skaven either conquer, ruthlessly exploiting their surroundings until their utter desolation, or stagnate forced to literally cannibalize each other to survive. They are essentially trapped in a vicious circle where the society forms natural selection where the most power-hungry, cruel and vicious individuals win and these individuals, in turn, do all in their power so that this society stays that way, with them in power and their subordinates in various forms of slavery. I don't know about you, but most of the above doesn't sound to me that different from average life of an Imperial citizen in a Hive World. Moreover, isn't that also what happened in real world many times? How the ultra-rich of today stay in power, how Nazis brainwashed the entirety of Germany into genocide and complete ruin, how medieval tyrants and their aristocrat countries held entire countries in serfdom, how USSR bureaucrats reproduced their own power by what amounted to negative selection?

The main difference between Imperium and the Skaven is that, while the Imperium also exists in a constant flux of decay, misery, exploitation and treachery, it still gets many stories about individuals that manage to represent better aspects of being human, in spite of their culture, their upbringing, their status. Skaven, however, are for some reason excluded from humanity and human stories, despite having the same sapience and free will as humans do, they almost never get any stories that center them and everywhere else they are just there to do something horrible (and sometimes funny) and then be defeated by the heroes of the story. Despite this, we got more intricate glimpses of Skaven in the Queek Headtaker novel, it turns out they can be loyal, they can have a conscience, they can be brave, they can reflect on the poor state of their species, they can actually care for each other for other reasons than power, however rare that is and however corrupted and abusive that care might be.

Skaven also make me reflect a lot about our own world. In a way they are kind of like Ferengi from Star Trek series, their culture on one hand seems completely alien from ours, but on the other hand it has direct connection to our culture because it is a huge exaggeration of it. We exist, function and prop up systems that cause suffering, we compete even if that means that someone else will go hungry, we punch down our most marginalised and miserable, we entrap people into economic system where the line must go always up propped by extremely underpaid labour or everyone will be scrounging for food, we exploit and destroy our environment without care for neither other living creatures nor even other humans, our current cultural mindset is thoroughly hierarchical and power-seeking with even those critical our the current state of things rarely escaping from it. It's easy to sneer at the Skaven as the utterly evil "monster" species of the setting, but they are only doing what we are doing, but dispensing with our dislike of grotesque, with our flimsy morals and with our ever so cautious self-preservation instinct. But in our world we have many stories of people prevailing despite tyranny, misery, poverty, people going to great lengths to help each other, people protesting and fighting injustice, even if their mind was still polluted by bigotry, cruelty or selfishness. If Rom from DS9 can unionize in spite of his entire species and culture, why not give a chance at better characterisation and characters for Skaven that doesn't revolve around being comically evil? Something akin to Queek's bravery and care for Ska, even if completely insane and abusive by our standards, Ska's unquestioning loyalty, Gnawdwell's refined composure and genuine pride for Queek, Sharpwit's recognition of Skaven being doomed to be trapped in their vicious cycle and never learning from any mistakes.

Source: https://twitter.com/nan_ivel/status/1460612547887910914

My motivation for writing a fanfic about Skaven is thus motivated by this unfair treatment of simultaneously portraying the Skaven as sapient and free willed individuals completely capable of forming a society woes many traits and woes of our own and other similar societies in fiction, while they are always treated as non-persons, never get any kind of diversity despite numbering trillions and stories about them that delve deeper into their psyche are practically non-existent. My story will be focused on a band of Skaven finding their own ways and detaching their personalities from the society that made them what they are, it's an escape story, a story of change, a story of experiencing and feelings things you could never put a name to. This is not necessarily a story about redemption, bad guys becoming good, the Skaven being goodie-two-shoes, it's much more about a seed of hope that exists even for cruelest and vilest of beings to change in whatever way, it's humanising Skaven in a way how our own evil is deeply human and it's about negating the idea of evil being ontological and immutable for sapient persons of free will.

The fact that there are trillions of Skaven and tens of thousands of clans should be, on the contrary, taken as a reason for the fans and creators to experiment with imagining diverse environments, individuals, sub-cultures of the Skaven society, sprawling like a tumour, growing in every which way. Similarly the fact that there is not really a lot of actual established lore about the Skaven and either very old bits that can be easily considered not even close to canon, short paragraphs that describe the trope of Skaven, but rarely go into any nuance or expand on them or things that could be very easily supplemented by additional lore, rather than be contradicted.

For example, what is the true nature of Great Horned Rat, is he even a real god of Chaos, as his aspects, domains and character seems to change all the time? Or maybe he is the truest of them, since even his nature changes chaotically, usually following the constant dynamic flux Skaven as a whole find themselves in? What is the relationship of Skaven with gender? Are breeders just an irrelevant lore tidbit that could be disregarded, or maybe it could be expanded, for example, how clans that don't have the means to purchase Moulder monstrocities operate? What of cloned Skaven? How is Skaven biology influenced by their constant misuse of warpstone, permanent overexertion, starvation and lack of sleep? Are we to believe Black Hunger isn't a psychological reaction that a half-starved sleepless human couldn't experience? A lore purist could disregard all these questions, but they'll end up without a backbone to their faction and barely anything interesting to write or ponder, apart from them being just mindless characterless beasts of ruin.

Next posts will answer these questions and go more into detail about some of my personal headcanon that informs my fic, such as diversity and function of Skaven society, their biology and its relationship with warpstone and exertion, their reproductive cycle, basic details of Blight City are the protagonists come from and what Great Horned Rat represents in essence. But, of course, that’s just my interpretation.

[ikamigami]

What gets me is that both Sun and Earth acknowledge how kind New Moon and they used to be, that he and Earth were super close to the point of sharing their deepest thoughts with one another, Sun had said to New Moon "I liked you more than the old you", it wasn't about New Moon being smarter or stronger than Old Moon, that didn't matter to Earth or Sun, they were okay if New Moon couldn't bring back Solar, they were okay with New Moon 'not measuring up to the old him', even now New Moon is their brother, not in a transactional way but in a real, close way, he a really good brother and just a kind person even when he got angry or messy! That's it too, New Moon could get angry or reckless before, that isn't the problem here, the problem was he decided to "snap", and its one thing to be really messy with grief and say some not great things, this episode made it clear the insults weren't the big problem, though I should also point out that if you start lashing out to hurt people on purpose, cutting ties with them like that, then why would you not expect consequences? And it's not like Sun and Earth disowned him, they didn't, but their trust in him was broken by what he said, because he went beyond insults and instead chose what he knew hurt them both the most and meant it, you don't get to do that, betray someone like that, and then walk away expecting your relationship with someone to be exactly the same, not without working to fix it, which he hasn't so far But either way the big problem was New Moon going further than Old Moon in the sense of actually attempting to kill a family member willingly, Old Moon was terrible, but the closest he ever got to murdering one of his siblings on purpose was punching Sun in the face or verbally threatening to "unplug him", which was still very messed up mind you but New Moon took it several steps further, it wasn't an accident like "oh I didn't know you were in here", or a "I am doing this but I will give you time to get out", he told her he doesn't care about her right before doing it and would've killed her if the blast wasn't stopped and everybody knows that and is not okay with it, rightfully so, grief is not a justification to attempt to willingly murder innocent people, especially ones own family who you claimed to love so much, I do not could Ruin or Bloodmoon because they aren't innocent, if it was just them in the room there wouldn't be a problem here, and if New Moon did that because "he feels they disowned him", they made it clear they didn't, I don't even think New Moon in his moments of reflection he actually said "they abandoned me", and isn't it just as bad that you betray someone close to you and they express they are hurt and that your relationship will be different going forwards, but they're still there, and your response is effectively "welp I don't care if you die now, get out of my way"? And even then both of them are still conflicted, Earth is still very angry but as she said she still can't fully just cut ties, and Sun is even more hesitant, and yeah, them going "Forgiving them depends on if the apology was actually sincere" and even then if they didn't forgive him for going that far that would be valid considering the severity, if it is revealed there was a corrupting influence that would help New Moon's case, but he still made bad choices he needs to answer for, even a part of his conscience knew it was all wrong but he chose to do it anyway

100% true! All of this! Everything you said is exactly true and right!

They still care and can't fully stop caring about New Moon. But they have every right to feel betrayed and hurt and to not want to forgive him. But like you said they are thinking about the option of forgiving him because they loved him and I think that they still do cause emotions are a funny thing which is hard to control and even if they may say "we don't care about him and we don't love him anymore". That love and care is still there in their hearts. And this is also why it hurts so much. This is why New Moon's betrayal hurts so much.

And you're right that virus or not New Moon still has to be hold accountable for his actions and he needs to show regret and apologize and even maybe he should do something to show that he means that. And also like you said Sun and Earth saw New Moon as brother. Sun liked New Moon more than Old Moon as his brother. They don't care if his smarter if he can do and fix everything. Like you said they don't care about it. I agree with everything you said here, dear anon.

Thank you for this long message because you addressed everything, every little and important detail and I think that it's very needed for everyone in this fandom to see. Thank you ^^

[thegeminisage]

Identity Porn for the Never Have I Ever ask game, please?

HIII thank you so much <333

IN FACT I HAVE WRITTEN IDENTITY PORN! i think How Arthur Got His Groove Back 100% qualifies for this trope. merlin himself essentially has all the same beats that a classic comic book superhero does - secret powers that would endanger him and those around him if discovered, secret identity (emrys) that he wants to tell people about and can't which ruins his love life (in the fic, arthur is his semi-love interest; it's preslash, but it centers around their relationship), the object of his affections talking about his secret identity right in front of him (they have MULTIPLE conversations about emyrs even though merlin IS EMRYS), tragic backstory/dead parents that has something to do with his powers (rip balinor), exhausted from leading a double life, a big secret identity reveal, even an old guy mentor! actually if you count the dragon merlin has two old guy mentors, it's just that they both suck so fucking bad. and lots of that isn't even really specific to my fic. favorite identity porn excerpt:

euhehehe i love to have fun and be evil. i think this is probably objectively the best-written thing on my ao3, aside from of course @cambionverse

i'm not sure how i'd go about writing another - don't really like AUs, so unless that sort of thing is baked into canon the way it is in merlin i don't think i no wait stop the presses i just had an idea. well it's not my idea specifically i've seen it tossed around a lot on tumblr but whatever. essentially common trope/fanon that eliot leverage is still killing people in season 1 of leverage before he decides being good guys is serious business. this is the oldest trope in the world but eliot getting assigned to keep an eye on nate's team bc moreau feels threatened by them (i actually have a hard time buying he would do this, even though it's a very popular fanon, but just roll with it) and he's like getting closer to them but he always has to sabotage them on jobs where their success would hurt moreau in some way (I KNOW literally nothing they do would effect moreau but we're gonna pretend) but they KEEP SUCCEEDING ANYWAY. and eliot is like what the hell. is being good bad guys legit? hey (he's asking moreau this while they're fucking or something) is it legit to be good bad guys? have i made real friends while pretending to make fake friends? and moreau is like if you be real friends with them i will have chapman cut their fucking brake lines. and eliot is like got it and he continues to go to these meetings and wonder aloud who keep sabotaging these random ass cases and then nate figures out the cases are all connected with moreau and eliot is like Oops and then he and hardison do the pool thing and it all comes out and he decides to switch sides because he's in love w hardison and parker and he's tired of doing evil shit for moreau. so like canon essentially except eliot's conscience doesn't start working until season 3 and they spend the first two and a half seasons not knowing the Ultimate bad guy they are tracking has been making them fancy ass dinners and being their bodyguard and being their little pet hitman. and hes just kinda batting his eyelashes like who me? and then going home to stare at his blank apartment walls in all-consuming existential dread. yeah.

[ASK MEME]

[anthonybialy]

Pros and Conned

Masochists are exploited by the chief sadist.  Real suckers crave more agony.  It’s insane to still have to make the case against someone convicted of being the most obnoxious phony ever generated.  Claim charges won’t hold up on appeal if that assuages dented consciences.  Seeing how Donald Trump screws up against Joe Biden again will fail to offer much drama to those addicted to a certain bleak variety.

Identity theft victims and identity theft victim protection commercial victims have invested what’s left in reforming a broke and broken cult.  The sort of blindly nasty lackeys who still haven’t come up with clever insults for everyone who points out Trump isn’t exactly a super president or leader or truth-teller or alpha male or conservative or businessman or true success or example of decency might be black holes of misery, but at least they’re humorless.  Call anyone who disagrees an ugly fat loser.  Throw in an accusation of being cuckolded for a true throwback.  Based on the infuriating primary, that seems to be the party’s direction.

The biggest liar possible is merely more blatant, which is convincing enough to fool those who enjoy hearing exactly what they want to hear.  The most political president won’t go away because his marks need him.  Affirmation can be negative.

Some people seem to have missed a few years, so I’ll just point out Trump was already president.  Since the most obvious lessons are the apparently the toughest to retain, let’s recall that he didn’t do much, broke a lot of promises, and was mostly a pushy liberal. He’s actually been a pretty public phony since at leas the mid-‘80s. Ask a friend who knows how to do web searches for examples.

Psychological specimens unwittingly participate in an experiment to see how far they’ll go without checking results.  Trump has spent his regrettably charmed life preparing for this very moment.  All he needs are fanatics who think checking claims would be blasphemous.

The worst parody possible of a business titan still isn’t obvious enough for repeat offenders.  Lenin couldn’t have conjured a more damaging caricature.  Thinking calling himself the best increases sales compensating for not actually creating anything anyone would ever want to buy, own, or receive as a gift.  Trump has thankfully nothing to do with how actual commerce unfolds unless he ruins Grover Cleveland’s special claim.

Even lousy salesmen know who wants to be hoodwinked again.  Such humiliation is too mortifying a fetish for a Pornhub private tab search.  A failed personality test leads to the most obvious projection possible embodied by the cheap insults that reflect their own bleakness.  It turns out there can be something worse than 2016.  We have to be more careful about phrasing wishes.

Consumers head back to the timeshare meeting to beg for another week.  The only bigger dupes are convinced a name in gold reflects success.  Heed fellow alphas who slavishly obey every command from someone who tells them exactly what they want to hear.

Display over actuality is Trump’s brand.  Slap his name on it.  Being focused on winning over principles while sucking at both is a special gift of an example.  Pair horrid principles and outcomes with loyalty thats’ blind and without other sense.  Unquestioned fealty naturally won’t be reciprocated.  Falling for his pouting rioting incitement wasn’t punishment enough.

Claiming to oppose corruption in all forms as they lap up bombastic copy from a shameless anthropomorphic commercial is one way to distrust everyone.  Lackeys view basic facts suspiciously while trusting the most dubious source.  Promoting conspiracy theories too preposterous for truthers comes naturally while ignoring the very real case against an ex-executive that only sounds outlandish.

If you like learning patience, you’re in luck.  A desperate nation will wait another four years to get a half-decent president.  And that’s only a slim possibility.  Based on deflating precedent, 2028 will feature an even more monumental disappointment as Kamala Harris defeats Tucker Carlson.

Serious problems indifferently roll forward while the clown battle royale proceeds.  Unfathomable debt is going to become somehow even more unwieldy.  Coincidentally, the government that does nothing is going to somehow provide even less value while draining enough life force to make vampires shake their heads.

Those still stubbornly hypnotized by fake gold are not as gullible, oblivious, delusional, and nasty as eight years ago.  They’re much worse because of the ensuing stuff that happened, namely that whole term where their regent got what he wanted.  There’s no more pretending they don’t know how a presidency would unfold with only his run as a game show host and steak salesman as examples.  He sure seemed honest when he was telling the world how amazing he is as his meager empire teetered.  Some curiously want to let him extend it nationwide, again.

Trump’s rather rare helpfulness is naturally inadvertent.  The problem is voters, not who gets their votes.  Sure, the chosen human deity will screw up life and everything about it.  But allowing arrogant oafs to run our lives provokes guilt in a country with a choice of representation.

Noting government bites comes naturally to humans who prefer options.  That whole selection process should mortify anyone registered.  It’s not that there are than putting up the fakest leader and most genuine brat one more freaking time: it’s that not enough participants bother to look.

[yhwhrulz]

Charles Spurgeon's "Morning & Evening" Devotional for August 23

Morning

“Keep thy heart with all diligence.”

Matthew 6:19-24

Our Lord in his Sermon on the Mount further said:

Matthew 6:19-21

Whatever we make to be our treasure will be sure to become the attraction of our heart. If we accumulate earthly riches, our hearts will by degrees be tied up in our money-bags; and, on the other hand, if our chief possessions are in heavenly things, our hearts will rise into the higher and more spiritual region. The position of the heart is sure to be affected by the place where the treasure is laid up. Shall sons of God give their hearts away to passing joys, which decay if they remain ours, and are liable at any moment to be taken from us?

Matthew 6:22 , Matthew 6:23

A heart professedly set upon heaven but held in bondage to earth is like an eye blinded by the intrusion of a foreign substance, involving the unfortunate owner of it in darkness. There is no such thing as seeing spiritual things while the soul’s windows are fastened up with shutters of worldliness.

Matthew 6:23

Two leading principles cannot rule in one heart; they cannot both be master. Either sin or grace will engross the whole heart; neither will submit to compromise.

Matthew 7:1-12

Matthew 7:3-5

Yet are we all too ready to condemn others and to be lenient to ourselves. It will be wise to act upon the precisely opposite principle, making every excuse for others, and accepting none for ourselves.

Matthew 7:6-11

Prayer is thus urgently recommended to us; we are asking of a Father, not of a tyrant, and that Father will employ all his wisdom and judgment not in repelling our pleas, but in doing for us exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or even think.

Matthew 7:12

This last verse is the golden rule, and those who follow it will live truly noble lives.

What enchants you, gain or pleasure?

Pluck right eyes, with right hands part;

Ask your conscience, where’s your treasure?

For, be certain, there’s your heart.

God and Mammon? O be wiser.

Serve them both? It cannot be;

Ease in warfare, saint and miser,

These will never well agree.

Evening

“Enter ye in at the strait gate.”

Matthew 7:13-29

Matthew 7:13

Choose not your religion because it is easy, and is patronised by the multitude, for the evil way is that which has charms for the crowd, since it is prepared by the Evil One so as to be pleasant to flesh and blood.

Matthew 7:14

Perhaps few absolutely, certainly few comparatively take the right road. If we would be saved we must swim against the stream, we must bear the cross and deny ourselves: this is not the popular course and never will be, but gracious souls choose it.

Matthew 7:15-20

Judge religious teachers not by their claims to apostolical descent, or episcopal ordination, but by their doctrines and actions. He who glorifies God by gracious preaching and holy living has the best certificate of ordination in the world; while he who promulgates error, or lives unrighteously, is no servant of the Lord, however loud his pretensions may be.

Matthew 7:21

Religion must be practical, or it will prove worthless at the last.

Matthew 7:24 , Matthew 7:25

Even to the doer of the word trial will come, rains of affliction will fall from above, floods of persecution or trouble will arise from the earth, and mysterious winds of spiritual temptation will beat upon him from all quarters; but he has a good foundation of real, vital, practical faith, and therefore he survives every test. Not so the mere hearer of the word, his case comes to a very different end.

Matthew 7:26 , Matthew 7:27

He endured no severer trials than the righteous; but for lack of foundation he could not sustain the shock; his great profession only made his ruin the more remarkable. Oh, to be on the rock, that is the main matter! Vital godliness outlives all mere imitations of grace.

Matthew 7:28 , Matthew 7:29

He was no doctor of doubts, no questioner and quibbler; he spake boldly, for he spake the truth. We need greatly in these days a ministry of the same kind. Send it, good Lord, we beseech thee.

Strait the gate, the way is narrow,

To the realms of endless bliss;

Sinful men and vain professors,

Self-deceived, the passage miss;

Rushing headlong,

Down they sink the dread abyss.

Thou who art thy people’s guardian,

Condescend my guide to be;

By thy Spirit’s light unerring,

Let me thy salvation see:

May I never

Miss the way that leads to thee.

Copyright Statement This resource was produced before 1923 and therefore is considered in the "Public Domain".

[w3ird0cat]

i wanna liquid fast until halloween but i don't know if my body would take it

i'm bmi 22-23 (?), i've had an eating disorder since I was around 13. i am now 17, turning 18. i have already fasted for 18 days, about 1 year ago, i had lost 10lbs and I felt weak and tired all the time, however, i didn't feel anything emotionally, which was great. my weight has varied extremely in the last 4 years, going from 175lbs to 135lbs to 155lbs to 140lbs. bulimia you know. i keep losing and gaining the same 10 pounds, which is annoying. food weighs on my conscience constantly. i currently weigh around 145lbs, i think. i look healthy, or people have told me i do.

i'm not though. my body is ruined, inside and out. i'm rotten. i've destroyed my metabolism, i have stretch marks, i have a lot of scars that will never leave, i'm anemic, i have annoying side effects from eating disorders even though i don't look like i'm sick.

i'm really exhausted.

all this for what? nothing?

i gained nothing from my eating disorder except disgust. i know i'm disgusting, when i make myself vomit, when i eat, when i don't eat. i know i'm always disgusting.

i want to heal, but part of me will always want to lose weight, will always wish i wasn't born "big".

i was very tall and plump, for a baby. lots of health problems. my mother couldn't breastfeed me because I stayed in hospitals for a very long time. she said she thinks it might be one of the reasons i'm sick, now. when i grew up, i was taller than the other girls, than the guys too. bigger. big boned. fat. ugly.

i am neurodivergent, children often made fun of me during my childhood, through my adolescence too. highschool was hell. i frequently had to change schools. i think it didn't help me with my self-image, unwillingly being apart.

i was sexualized a lot, starting around the age of 13. apparently, men like long legs and voluptuous breasts, even on 13-year-old girls. my mother and grandmother often pointed out these curves that I didn't choose to have. i wasn't called fat anymore, but it felt dirtier. i felt gross.

(i love my mother, but sometimes she speaks ignorantly. i know she had (has) no bad intentions.)

around that time, i didn't have access to the internet yet, so I was still very naive. i didn't understand why, or how, i was being provocative simply by existing.

now I know: because the world can be disgusting.

something else that pushed me into eating disorders, i believe, is to have access to the internet without surveillance. i met so many bad people and saw too many things that a child should not have seen. i didn't really have friends in real life, in fact, real life was a nightmare for me. so i isolated myself in the world of my computer.

later, around the age of 15-16, i decided that i wanted to make real life friends. i'm a Magic the Gathering player, so I decided to go to a tournament in a neighboring town to mine. there, a guy spoke to me, he said he thought i was cute and asked me for my snapchat but I didn't have this social network, just discord and instagram, if i recall well. but i was very excited and gave him my discord. i thought i finally had made a friend! when i got home, i told my mother and she was very happy for me, but she told me to be careful with teenage boys, because they won't have the best intentions in mind. i listened, but i thought he would be nice to me if i was nice to him because he plays Magic the Gathering. there also was a girl i was seeing in a romantic way, which i had told him about, so to me, there was no way it was going to be anything else than a friendship. even with the girl, we were just good friends, but sometimes we'd hug or i'd stroke her hair (i've always been very uncomfortable with any physical contact so to the both of us, me allowing her close meant a lot). after a few weeks of talking online, me and the guy went to see the batman movie together, at the cinema. he talked a lot and i too, we had a lot in common. after we went to his place for my mother to pick me up there later. he started being more touchy. he didn't listen when i said no.

things were never the same after.

i fell into a bad spiral after what happened. i distanced myself from everyone. it took me a long time to become functional again.

for the past few months, things have been going better. i'm in a relationship with a guy, but i don't think i'm in love with him. he knows that, but he knows i love him in my own way, so he doesn't mind the ''in love'' thing.

i was in love once, in my life, with my best friend, but that's over. a lot of things ended after i was sexually assaulted. maybe that's something I could write about another time.

I tried recovery a few times, but it dragged me into alcohol abuse, intense self-harm and binge eating (without purge, which led me to gain weight, therefore to relapse).

tomorrow I have my first appointment with a nutritionist. we'll see how it goes. in a way, I dare to hope that it can help me to heal, even if I don't really believe in it.

if that doesn't help, i think i will liquid fast (alcohol, coffee, energy drinks under 20 calories and water) until halloween. why halloween? i don't know. but i need to do something. i am not comfortable with the way things are right now.

[fruity-phrog]

okay FINE since you INSIST.

So in the Odyssey, Polites was on the island with Circe, so that's were the AU diverges. In it, when Eurylochus comes back from Circe, Polites offers to go because he sees his Captain is preoccupied (besides, he wants to go Open Arms on this place). He meets Hermes and is completely absorbed by his whole act. He's not an idiot, he knows Hermes the god of lying and cheats will play him, but he brings him along to Circe's place and never actually eats the moly. Hermes is so intrigued by this odd mortal who seems so so happy constantly that he shrugs and just. Goes along with it. Polites gets the men back by Open Arms'ing Circe and literally just being a cool guy, also Hermes throws his weight around a small bit. And when Circe suggests going to the underworld, Hermes thinks it's such a fuckin stupid idea how can he NOT tag along? Besides, it's been a while since he's seen Uncle Hades.

The actual plot of the Odyssey and of Epic doesn't really play into this bit. On the journey to and from the Underworld, Hermes helps out around the ship (playing mortal is fun for him, it's a lark) and is generally very good at bringing up moral - except for the case of Odysseus, who fucking hates him. He finds Hermes so so annoying and will not shut up about it to Eurylochus, who just says he's jealous of Polites' new friendship.

Hermes has a real reason for being on the boat, however. Polites confuses and delights him - how can a human, a mortal, go through so much and yet be so forthcoming to the world? It baffles him, so he makes Polites into a little social experiment, trying his hardest to subliminal message him into becoming just a little bit fucked up. It's all a game to him.

Polites has his own reasons, too. He knows it's ridiculous to assume a god would just befriend him for no reason, especially Hermes, but he knows he can't do anything without his sister punting him to the deepest depths of Tarturus - and he genuinely likes Hermes. He thinks maybe, just maybe, he can influence him to be a nicer person. Or...god.

Both plans work a bit too well.

Hermes successfully makes Polites question why he works so hard for other people to be happy, think about all the times Open Arms-ness just led to more pain and manipulation, to him being used and discarded. He hands Polites the bricks to build a wall up, piece by piece, slowly covering himself to save himself.

Unfortunately for Hermes, Polites isn't the only one being influenced, and he finds himself growing a conscience. He begins helping out around the ship without it being for Polites' trust, he comforts a sailor that misses home - small things, very small things, but for a god they are everything. Hermes is petrified.

By the time Suffering happens, Odysseus isn’t the only monster rawr rawr rawr. Hermes and Polites have successfully hidden any of the og Poli far far deep within him and he’s a completely different person. It was a gradient - a joke Polites usually wouldn’t make, less food shared at a meal - but when Odysseus orders the sirens thrown overboard, Polites doesn’t even flinch and Hermes is officially put on edge, noticing for the first time just how much damage he’s done. And all the influence Polites had on HIM comes rushing in, and dread and guilt and regret flood him. How could he do that?? Take the single nicest perso ever and ruin him?? He sees what he’s done and, in a panic, flees the ship, hoping whatever good influences are left on that boat will undo what he did.

Then, Scylla. Polites gives away a torch so he can be saved, he sided with Ody during Mutiny which hurts and angers Eurylochus, Zeus kills him and the others.

Hermes is unaware. And after a while, he goes to try and find the ship, but cannot. He’s looking for Polites, not Odysseus, so he doesn’t realise what happened until Athena asks him to send a message requesting a meeting with Zeus, and explains it to him. He doesn’t even allow himself to think about it until he has to rescue Ody from Calypso, but the gods notice a small change that never truly goes away. And he never fully forgives Zeus.

In other versions, Hermes leaves after Scylla. In versions more, he leaves after the sirens but returns during Mutiny. Like all green classics, this is debated greatly. Anyway, this is the Hermites holy book. Now I’ve done this expect doodles and headcanons galore. @thisisaname-whatahappyname as the co founder I do hope this is up to scratch.

Should I finally grace you guys with Hermites. Hermes x Polites is it time to explain my vision.

[nicklloydnow]

“Finding the union between these two seemingly contradictory options—the paradox of a God who loves the smallest, and yet is also the Mind of the Universe, the matrix, the source and condition of the cosmos’ existence because he is love—leads us to the underlying frame of Walker Percy’s novels. For his protagonists, God cannot be found by reaching to the heights, and in their attempts to take a God’s-eye-view of the world, the viewpoint of the theorist, Percy’s characters become alienated from the world, from other selves, and from God. But it is when they go out into that world and encounter other selves for what they are—and in some cases, fall in love with them, or remember love for them, or become broken by their desire for love from them—that they find God in the world, or at least, find God close to them.

In the Moviegoer, Binx Bolling goes on a fruitless “vertical” search for the Supreme Being. He reads Einstein and Schroedinger and others, and has it all explained—the universe, the electron, Einsteinian gravity. “The only difficulty,” he admits, “was that the universe had been disposed of, I myself was left over.” So he commences his horizontal search in which he becomes a 1960s suburban New Orleans pilgrim of pleasure, driving up and down Elysian Fields and Robert E. Lee, watching movies, and pursuing women. He does not find love, so much as it finds him. The love of Lonnie and of Kate, discovered through catastrophes, culminating on Ash Wednesday and marriage to Kate, brings him around to face, if not yet embrace, something like peace and the stability of loving commitment, both hallmarks of grace.

Lancelot Lamar in Lancelot is also a theorist, one who sees human sins as phenotypic variations on a psychologically explainable moral genotype—as specimens of a thoroughly explainable and psychologically excusable species of actions. Even Hitler seems to him incapable of real sin, for he “was a madman.” To find a real sin, he thinks, would prove the existence of God. But he will not examine his own conscience as he seeks the Unholy Grail. Remaining a theorist, he conceives and dedicates himself to an insane Stoic New Order that will be “the best of [Robert E.] Lee and Richard [the Lionhearted] and Saladin and Leonidas and Hector and Agamemnon and [the Red Baron] Richthofen and Charlemagne and Clovis and Martel.” That he will be the one to construct this New Order shows how he stands above and outside his theory. The tragic irony is that standing outside allows him to rationalize a horrifying sin of vengeance, and to concretize his alienation from God and his own self.

One of the most powerful expressions of Percy’s literary genius is that, as one reads through the description of the New Order that Lancelot wants to build, one feels (especially if one is a Southerner) the desire for it building within himself. But it is a diabolical lie, and over and over its true nature surfaces, such as when he exclaims to his priest-friend, “You have your Sacred Heart. We have Lee.” It is a new order without love. The presence of grace, and the solution to Lancelot’s despair, exists within that very priest-friend Fr. John, his silent listener whose birth name was Percival, namesake of one of the three to find the Grail in the Arthurian-Grail cycle.

(…) But it is clear that for Percy, the bifurcation of genius and apostle is not so clear as Kierkegaard seems to make it. The genius Gottlieb stands over and above the world with greatness but without comprehension of the most important things, seeing but not seeing. Wannabe apostles like Moon Mullins and Billy Matthews are prey to their own just-so stories; even real apostles, such as John Calvin as he appears in Lost in the Cosmos, can be undone by the one-sidedness of ideology. This is why, for Kierkegaard, the genius is antithetical to the apostle; it almost seems that to be one you must eschew the other. For Percy, ingenuity and apostleship need each other—we might say, reason and faith, science and faith, need each other. As St. John Paul II, once wrote, “Science can purify religion from error and superstition; religion can purify science from idolatry and false absolutes. Each can draw the other into a wider world, where both may flourish.”

(…)

For Percy, it was in understanding language—“a natural phenomenon in which energy exchanges account for some, but not all, of what happens”—that he straddled the fateful mind-body, science-religion rift in the modern mind. The human person is the rational animal that, like the other animals, is not only self-moved but moves in a radically new way, and can, thanks to language, consider all that exists under the perspective of creation. She can ask, “Is this world, of which I am a product and in which I live, an impersonal accident or an incredible artifact?” To be linguistic is to be a speaker about God.

Furthermore, language allows one to be named by God, to discover one’s self authentically. One can find no greater biblical precis of Percy’s view of the healing of the sundered self than Revelation 2:17, in the Spirit’s word to the church in Pergamum: “To him who conquers I will give some of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone, with a new name written on the stone which no one knows except him who receives it.” For the unnamed namer that is man, only God can give a name that will do justice to his enigmatic self, what is good about it, what is bad about it, all within the encompassing love of God, found, of course, within the smallest.

We can see in this insight both parts of John Paul II’s aphorism. In the popularized science of Wells, Percy’s religion was purified in advance from error and superstition, above all from the sad idea of the human soul as a separate thing, a mysterious ghost that is the real self. In his Catholic faith, his science was purified from the idea of the human being only as an organism in an environment. He found the nature and uniqueness of the human soul, and the human person as a whole self, body and soul, able to be compared to a lost animal, a sheep, but also able to reach the heights.

And it is here that we can return to the aphorism with which we began our pilgrimage through Percy’s dialogue, in life and letters, with modern science and the Catholic Faith—“Not to be constrained by the greatest, but to let oneself be contained by the smallest—that is divine.” This is what Percy’s imagination captured—here and there, at the moment of recovering consciousness under a chindolea bush, like Binx, or remembering a dying beloved daughter whose tortured face was somehow also a piece of art—a Picasso profile—like Tom More, or encountering one’s own conscience while watching the grief turned into rage turned into theory turned into damnation of an old friend—like Fr. John encountering Lancelot—here and everywhere the divine breaks forth.”

[tortoisesshells]

Sending you a BTS for....your favorite moment from your latest chapter, or your latest finished fic/one-shot...your choice!

Hilariously, the last chapter of Customs was "Some Unhappy Derelict" and the last complete one off was set aboard a proper derelict. Shows you where my head's at these days.

Here's my favorite part of Ch. 29 of Customs:

Fancifully, James though it was almost like being haunted – this constant looking-for, the vigilance for a glimpse of her amidst the pattern in his life in Boston. She was always there, somewhere. Even when he was going over Mr. Moreland’s books, even when he was tabulating reports on smuggling schemes, and something afoot in Dorchester – even when he was sorting through the London papers, months out of date – the letters from his extended family, his old officers discussing the disposition of Whitehall and the insurgency of the East India Company, and the coming of war – she would hate all this, he found himself thinking – not the mechanics of the work, but its object. He could see her, leaning against the desk as he worked – the sturdy grey dress and white-worked kerchief at her neck, arms crossed impatiently: If you want to polish the boots of your own hangman, James –

Duty was duty, he told himself, without feeling – and to the specter: Haven’t you ever had to do what you disliked?

I make it a practice of giving a wide berth to what will kill me, he imagined her saying in response, But as your master is yourself, it is not my place to comment.

A ridiculous thing for an imagination he had contrived out of his own loneliness to be saying: what was the point of conjuring her specter if not for her to comment? He thought again of what he had been thinking since the prospect of war: that he would miss Nellie Treat, and these illusory conversations were no substitute for the true article. 

Full disclosure: I sincerely dislike this chapter, and think it's probably the weakest one yet in terms of pacing and structure, but what it does have are Strong Emotions (Ineptly Expressed) and Dramatic Irony, and I hope that's enough.

The "imagined conversation" bit is one I was wary of using, at first, but ultimately I liked it because it made sense - both Nellie and James Norrington are at some level isolated, either by their position in Boston (Norrington) or alienation from their emotions (both) - the imagined conversations can't happen, really, and aren't so much about what's real as what they want to be real.

Nellie's not someone who has an overdeveloped conscience, but she is saying here both what (1) she's said before, and (2) what James Norrington has started thinking himself, but doesn't really want to own up to while he's still pondering how to get his good name back after the last several years of disaster; it's an uncomfortable space, and his imagination of Widow Treat confirms it.

The second thing she "says" - I make it a practice of giving a wide berth to what will kill me - is my cheerful little bit of dramatic irony: that while Norrington knows he and Nellie have clashed publicly over smuggling before, he doesn't at this point know what she's up to in landing molasses in Dorchester, even if he is aware that something is going on there. Norrington's assigning her a little more self-preservation than she actually possesses - as at least one character has pointed out to her, she perhaps should not be pursuing a relationship with the man who could very literally ruin her life. Whoops. The heart wants what it wants, etc.

Thank you for the question, kind friend!

[scoobydoodean]

@steampunkairship said: So... Carver is like if the RabbidSamcrit!AU version of you was a writer on the show? Asking for the sake of clarity.

No, not even that, because I'd want to fix him not try to absolutely ruin him. Even in the AU where I not only hate Sam with all my being but also want to ruin him forever, I would still try to write him accurately, and Season 8 Sam does many things that are not accurate to how his character had behaved up to that point. He does things that may seem at least close to something Sam would do, but they are still, in my opinion, things that Sam would not actually do.

I'll gloss right over Homewrecker!Sam and MonsterHater!Sam and just say there is a very big jump between knowing that monsters are a thing and choosing not to stop them from eating people, and watching a teenager get kidnapped right in front of your eyes, as the only single solitary person who saw it happen, and doing absolutely nothing—not even making a phone call. The former is something Sam has done (while at Stanford) and plays with the "Does great power = great responsibility?" dynamic in a way that is actually interesting and where you can see and appreciate Sam's perspective, while the latter is just objectively immoral and also Not Sam Behavior™️.

Abandoning Dean in Purgatory (tho I actually don't have the moral issue with this that I do with Sam abandoning Kevin) is also wildly out of character for a guy who lost his fucking mind each and every time he lost Dean up to that point. Even the fear of losing Dean colored Sam's actions and outlook on the world through season 3, then he went full Terminator mode in "Mystery Spot", then he wanted to turn himself and Dean both into monsters in "Time Is On My Side", then Dean actually died for real and it broke Sam. Our view of Sam from seasons 1-7 tells us that Sam does have a selfish streak, but he would also burn his own soul to smithereens and turn himself into a demon if it meant saving Dean, and he would drink a nurse down to the bone marrow, and he would strangle Dean nearly to death in the end but not for lack of love for him but explicitly because he fears Dean does not love him anymore and Dean matters more to him than anyone in the world. So to take that guy and then go "LOL yeah he would just not care and would just drive off and not even look into what happened to Dean and Cas" will never feel in character to me.

If I was going to write Season 8 Sam to do something bad it would look more like Sam rescuing and using Kevin to save Dean than abandoning him—something more on brand with what Carver storyboarded for Season 10, really. I would also write Sam to actually have to take responsibility for his own actions. Carver, while being deeply critical of Sam and writing him to be insufferable and loathsome in many instances, also doesn't overtly establish consequences for Sam that Sam fully owns. He also doesn't seem to believe Sam really has a conscience at all. Instead, he largely treats Dean as Sam's conscience. In Season 8, Sam feels guilt and a sense of morality through Dean and Dean is the object representing Sam's guilt that Sam lashes out at for making him have a conscience about abandoning Kevin, and abandoning Dean and Cas, and lying to Dean in 8.14. And yet, prior to season 8, Sam actually does have a conscience and moral opinions which he has defended on many occasions, and I haven't always agreed with his opinions and sometimes I thought his sense of morality was inconsistent, but it was clear his feelings belonged to him and they weren't born of apathy but out of genuine feeling and care—not from some foul, covetous inner core.

Carver hated Sam is the thing. Sam didn’t really do all of those things. Jeremy Carver just hates Sam’s guts.

[djarinsbeskar]

PREQUEL ARC: PART 3 - THE BOUNTY

A/N: Part 3 of Stitches has arrived! This chapter was difficult to write, I'll be honest. And I'd really appreciate any feedback if it doesn't read as well as the first two chapters or doesn't make sense or is boring etc. etc.

This is the penultimate prologue chapter, with the story very much shifting to surround the dynamic and growth of the readers relationship with Din so if you can hold out for me just a bit longer, I promise, I'll make it worth the wait. You know what I'm talking about friends.

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: None

Summary: You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

9 ABY, on the Hydian Way.

Din prided himself on the strength of his principles. An unwavering certainty in everything he did that gave him a modicum of peace as he wandered throughout the galaxy amidst wars, rebellions and the chaos that ensued in their aftermath.

He was certain when he took the Creed, when he sacrificed a future for himself in service of the covert; something he had never regretted to this day. He had never regretted any bounty taken; unmoved by pleas, promises or threats. Neither tears nor anger could sway his resolve.

Truly, he could count on one hand the things he regretted in life; the job on Alzoc III, challenging a fully grown Mandalorian to a fight while still a hot blooded, angry teenager, and not trying to pull his parents into the bunker where they had hidden him from Separatist droids as Aq Vertina was invaded.

In his line of work, there was seldom room for self-doubt. Inner conflict led to hesitation, which could be a death sentence for a bounty hunter.

And yet, as he came out of hyperspace, that unfamiliar gnawing presence in the pit of his stomach began to rear its’ head again. The job he had accepted was… dubious, to say the least.

Din snorted in self-deprecation; most of his jobs were dubious in nature.

What brought on this unnatural doubt, however, was that this was a job for Imperial remnants. Din wasn’t a fool; he knew half the jobs he had taken in the past could have been traced to the Imps if he cared enough to look, but taking a job from them personally… well, he didn’t know how to feel about that just yet.

He pondered the feeling in his stomach again and frowned. Was it doubt… or instinct? Instinct was his most trusted companion as he travelled through space alone. A tickle at the back of his neck, a wary step forward, even a flash of electricity down his spine; those were only some of the ways that instinct spoke to him. And he always listened.

An uncomfortable feeling in his stomach though? Never that.

If it was instinct, then he was going against his very nature in ignoring it. If it was doubt, based on some misguided sense of morality in dealing with the empire… that he could deal with. He could smother doubt with control and consistency; going through the motions of a job brought security and familiarity. Sooner or later, that doubt would make way for a stoic acceptance, a state that had gotten Din through some of his roughest years.

His eyes were drawn to his shoulder, where the glint of newly crafted beskar shone in the gentle lights of the cockpit.

A down-payment…

“Makers Helmet…” he groaned, running a gloved thumb and forefinger across his tired eyes to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on as the pressure at the back of his skull increased due to the loop his thoughts were going in.

A job was a job. He circled back to his original thought that had led him to accept the clients offer. A job with a bounty greater than anything he could have ever hoped to receive in his lifetime, let alone in one go. It was mere sentimentality and conscience getting in the way of good business. That beskar could not only provide him with armor to reaffirm his loyalty to the covert, but assistance and support to the foundlings and those who raised them.

His resolved steeled. He had never regretted putting the covert before himself, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Turning his attention back to the navicomputer, he scanned the co-ordinates that his most recent lead had pointed to. He had hunted the trail of his latest bounty to the general direction of a vast area of space that straddled the outer reaches of the Outer Rim and halted as it reached Wild Space. There was nothing to stop the bounty from being in those unexplored parts of the galaxy, and if the tracking beacon led him that far, he would have to be ready. With no spaceport on any of the planets he had seen dotting the area on the navicomputer, he thought it wise to refuel and gather provisions should he be there for any prolonged period.

As he lazily assessed which planet to land on, his eyes were drawn to a familiar name. A memory brushed against his thoughts. Not necessarily a pleasant one, but not entirely unpleasant either. For the sake of fairness, Din scanned the planets surrounding the one he pondered; some were equally as well equipped for his needs but the majority he had not been on in years if ever. Somewhere he knew, even briefly, gave him more comfort than the unknown.

At least, that was what Din told himself as he punched in the co-ordinates of Dandoran, the flicker of warmth the memory brought him was something equally as unnatural as the doubt coiled in his stomach.

Bantha balls, maybe he had been poisoned again...

Din tossed a few credits to the human female who received the Razor Crest into the hanger she was managing.

“She needs to be refueled.” Was all he said as he made his way out of the hanger and into the not unfamiliar streets of Mynock. It didn’t look like much had changed in the several months since he was here last; the place was still crawling with a mixture of criminals, bounty hunters and people who just didn’t want to be found. All in all, a good example of most Outer Rim cities.

Mynock had two main pedestrian streets that ran for over two klicks and intersected at the middle. From what he could tell, all legitimate business ran from those two streets, the further into the alleyways and twisted lanes that branched off those two streets one ventured, the seedier the business.

From what he knew, the practice you worked at was on one of these main streets. He paused, causing a few disgruntled pedestrians to have to jerk to a halt and make their way around his imposing frame. He was not here socially. He was never anywhere socially. He shook his head; between self-doubt and sentimentality, the tight leash he usually kept himself on was looser than he remembered and he had no idea just when it had started to slack.

That could not continue. But being aware of a problem allowed him to deal with it. So, with a greater sense of fortitude, he mentally choked any distracting feelings beyond the determination to collect this bounty. That included the somewhat interesting possibility of seeing you again.

Thankfully, Din only needed to stick to the main streets. The road was flanked by stall upon stall of foodstuffs, clothing, trinkets, ammunition and what looked to be a husbandry of Massiff dogs. The large, reflective eyes turned to the Mandalorian; all bared fangs and hostile snarls. An understandable response by most non-sentients when a Mandalorian had no real physical cues they could read, being as covered as they were. Until he lifted his hand for the one closest to sniff, they could only assume he was a threat.

A sniff was usually all it took however, before the snarling stopped. Din brushed a hand over the scaly head as he continued on his way to collect what he came here for.

An hour later, and Din was feeling much more at ease as he picked up the last of the supplies he thought he may need; ration packs, bactapads, generic ammunition that he liked to keep well stocked on the ship and so on. He was once more mentally compiling the information he had gathered on the location of the bounty, running through various routes in his mind that would cover the most planets in the parsec in the shortest amount of time.

He nodded his thanks at the change the Rhodian merchant returned to him and began to make his way back to the Razor Crest. If it hadn’t been for the long flick of your hair in the tie you kept it up in when you turned your head to look at someone at a stall across the central walkway of the street, Din was certain he’d have walked on none the wiser. But alas, that same higher power that had gifted him with a keep perception of his surroundings cursed him in the same fell swoop as the movement attracted his attention.

He came up short, running a mental check on himself immediately. No, no injuries. His shoulder still ached on occasion from being dislocated six months earlier, but it was a phantom pain at most these days. He was fit as a mythosaur and he wasn’t about to have that good streak ruined by getting injured in your presence… again.

Din wondered if he could escape to his ship without you noticing; he didn’t want to tempt fate anymore than he already had. Plus, awkward interactions that left him feeling frustrated both mentally and physically were not high on the list of things he enjoyed, thank you very much.

As a Mandalorian, Din expected attention wherever he went. It was just something he chalked down to being a necessary evil to live by his Creed but he had never wanted to be more invisible than he did in that moment, thinking that at any moment he would be trip into a sarlacc pit or something equally unpleasant.

But you hadn’t seen him, thankfully; much more invested in the choices at the fishmonger’s stall.

Despite his better judgement however, he paused from slipping back to his ship silently.

He was taken by the slight pink flush that rose to your cheeks at something the woman behind the stall said, intrigued by the color and what caused it. Din tilted his head slightly. He had noticed you getting flushed in frustration or annoyance both times you had treated him. It was fascinating to see your cheeks flush for a reason other than irritation and anger.

That particular thought touched a dangerous part of Din’s mind, a part that made him wander into the realm of curiosity to ponder what else might make you blush like that.

Oh, but it was a delightful color on you, and he watched longer than he ought to, a small quirk lifting the corner of his lips. The image of domesticity as you adjusted the parcels of food already in your arms to accept the fish was so foreign to his eyes and certainly not one he ever associated with you until now. It spoke to a part of him that still slumbered but began to fidget in its sleep, on the verge of consciousness.

That tentative smile that he had unwittingly been giving into as he indulged his senses by watching you, dropped the moment three males approached you. The Twi’lek was standing too close for you to be comfortable and by the rigidity of your spine, he knew you were not.

You had taken a step away from the men easily, your body language read cautious but not fearful and he knew better than to underestimate your abilities to wrangle men into whatever position you wanted them in. He had first-hand experience in that department and honestly, it wasn’t nearly as fun as it sounded in his head.

Din relaxed the grip he had unknowingly tightened on the blaster at his hip when you made to leave the stall, away from the three. He shook his head at himself; you had lived here for years. You knew how to handle yourself perfectly fine.

Letting out a breath, he was about to continue back to the ship when that same cursed perception caught the Twi’leks arm shoot out to grip your upper arm tightly, preventing your exit.

Din was behind you before he even realized he had moved.

You examined the range of fish on offer, eyes skeptically crossing off anything that looked like it had been sitting out too long or anything with more than four eyes. You weren’t squeamish by nature, but the fewer dead eyes that were staring at you while you prepared dinner, the better.

One of the few perks of Mynock, was its proximity to the Great Basin of Dandoran that opened out to one of the many oceans to cover the planet. Fresh seafood was a staple in the city and after years of ration packs between the Rebellion and Klatooine, eating fresh was a luxury you would never take for granted again. Your own home planet was mostly covered in water too; the greater population spread over countless clusters of islands where seafood was also the meal of choice for most. It was a tenuous connection but being able to cook dishes somewhat like the ones your mother made when you and your brothers were younger made it feel like you weren’t so far away.

You smiled to yourself at the thought as you pointed to the light blue colored Berbersian crabs, knowing the trawlers had come in only this morning that carried them. The claws were meaty with the slightest sweetness to their flavor that complimented most dishes. Not to mention that when cooked, they turned the most vibrant blue that their shells alone could be used for decoration and craft.

You chatted aimlessly with the fishmonger as she cleaned and prepared the translucent peachy pink fish you had also chosen for good measure.

“Busy at Biran’s?”

“When are we not busy?”

“It’s all them fights between the gangs. Folk say since the Hutts were chased out that things are better but it’s even more dangerous with the others tryin’ to take their place.”

You only gave a non-committal hum to that; you didn’t get involved in politics of any kind. Gang or otherwise.

The mindless chatter continued on nonetheless to more safe topics.

“Did I tell ye, Drea had her baby not three days ago. Another girl.”

“Poor Nej will have his hands full when they all get older.”

“I’m sure they’re dying for a boy at this point. Great excuse to keep sowin’ the crops though, ain’t it?”

“I’m sure they don’t need any excu—”

“Ever think of havin’ any of yer own? Yer well into that time of yer life, I’d say no?”

You blinked, nearly missing the bag of produce as she handed it across the stall to you. You could feel your face heat up at the direction this conversation had turned, and you definitely never thought you would be discussing your biological clock with a fishmonger over Berbersian crab.

“Well I---”

Movement from the corner of your eye stole your attention from that progressively awkward conversation and the no doubt insufficient answer you would have given as three males came to stand at the same stall, facing you. Your eyes scanned the trio sideways, not prepared to give them your attention unless it became unavoidable. There were two humans and a Twi’lek and given the way the humans flanked the large blue male; you had a fair idea about who was in charge as he sneered at you in what you assumed was meant to be a disarming smile.

The blasters at each of their hips and the emerald green coloring on the right sleeve of their jackets told you they belonged to one of the gangs the fishmonger had been complaining about not a few minutes earlier. This gang in particular, the Quai-Kisu or Emerald Dagger in Basic, were a faction that splintered off from the main Hutt crime syndicate once their influence in Dandoran lessened. Their trademark was spice smuggling but anyone with two braincells knew that they accepted the lesser charge to hide the true wealth of their criminal activity, flesh trafficking.

Suffice to say, you didn’t want anything to do with them and you most certainly didn’t want them to want anything to do with you.

“Can I help you?” You kept your eyes on them as you handed the fishmonger what you owed her when it was clear they weren’t going to leave; the woman wisely remaining quiet as she accepted the credits.

None of them responded immediately, and you wondered if this was a new scare tactic they were employing to make people anxious. The crimson hue of the Twi’leks eyes glinted as he contemplated you, running down your figure lazily before meeting your eyes again when you frowned,

“Ol’ man Biran available for a house call?” He rumbled, the sun catching the points of the filed canines as he spoke.

“I’m afraid Biran doesn’t make house calls anymore. Besides, he’s been under the weather for the last few days unfortunately.”

You reeled the lie off effortlessly, having learned over the years who Biran would tend to and who he would rather see succumb to whatever ailed them. It was a steep and difficult learning curve for you, your initial training taught you that you must do your utmost to save every life. Biran had laughed in derision, saying that that mindset wouldn’t serve you well out here. These were gangs, not the flyboys of Corellia. Saving one of their lives might condemn countless others. So while you struggled, you accepted that it was his practice and he made the rules and after over two years on Dandoran, you had seen enough victims of the gang warfare to not feel any pity when one of them suffered an injury.

“C’mon beautiful. One of our pals was injured in a… terrible, terrible accident.” The taller of the two human males, a lanky man with a neck that looked much too long and eyes that took way too much liberty in running over your body.

“There are other doctors in Mynock.” You replied steadily, “I’m sure one of them can help.”

To humor them any longer would be to encourage trouble, so you cut the conversation short and turned quite deliberately to make the point that the conversation was over, flashing the fishmonger a wan smile before turning back the way you came.

“We weren’t done talkin’ to you.”

Your eyes widened marginally when an iron grip closed around your upper arm, your free hand dropping the items in your arm immediately to click the safety off your blaster and lift it in the time it took for the Twi’lek to yank you into facing him again.

“Did I say you could lay a hand on me?” You hissed, the blaster pointing upward from where you held it close to your body towards the underside of the Twi’lek’s chin.

“Quite the little spitfire, ain’t she lads?” He crowed, amused by your action. His laughter was like shattered glass on your ears, making you want to wince, but you kept your hand steady even as your heart pounded. You received as much training as anyone when they joined the Rebellion, but your experience in actual combat beyond treating people on the front line was limited. You knew your own limitations, and that there was no way you would be able to take on all three of them.

The hand around your arm squeezed painfully and you clocked the blaster, lifting it closer to sit under the Twi’lek’s chin, “Release me. Now.”

And like most men of his ilk, he ignored you in favor of his own voice,

“From what we’ve seen, you work with the good doctor. Shouldn’t be a bother for you to fix him up. Nicer to look at too, eh fellas?” He tossed over his shoulder to the snickers of his lackeys.

“Then you can go back to target practice with your toy gun.” He chuckled darkly, leaning in where the pungent smell of his breath made you turn your head away in distaste, “That is, if we let you go at all.”

You swallowed thickly at the threat, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as your mind scrambled to come up with a solution, a way out, something. You felt the familiar sting of tears at the back of your eyes when each avenue came up blank. You couldn’t think of anything and suddenly, you felt so terribly alone in this shithole of a town on a faraway planet far from anyone who gave a bantha crap who would actually be able to help you.

Their laughter only grated on your already frayed nerves and pissed you off even more. You had fought too hard and suffered too much to let these assholes take the one thing you owned, your freedom. Your eyes flashed with anger and snapped back to the Twi’lek, ready to pull the trigger because if you were going out, it would be on your terms.

Their laughter suddenly ceased then, and you blinked. Had they copped that you planned to take at least one, maybe two of them out with you? Before you could figure it out, your arm was shoved away. You raised your now free hand to steady the blaster as you aimed it at them, but they were backing away, eyes averted.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You growled, hiding the waver in your voice.

They said nothing in reply as the Twi’lek bared his teeth and made towards you again. One of the humans grabbed his arm and hissed something to him. You couldn’t make it all out, but you swore you heard a name you never thought you’d hear again.

Teff.

With one last growl and glare, the Twi’lek conceded to the advice of the humans and all three of them melted back into the crowds of Mynock leaving you to release a heavy breath as you lowered your weapon, replacing the safety with ease as your eyes continued to scan the street. You wanted to be certain they had really left.

“Huh, maybe they were smart after all.” You muttered to yourself, proud that you had dealt with the situation somewhat and holstered your blaster against your hip again, “Still got it girl.” You commended yourself as you stooped to pick up your dropped groceries.

A snorted, “I beg to differ” had you blinking up over your shoulder at the familiar, cocksure figure of the Mandalorian; a hand only grazing the blaster at his hip as he stood casually behind you, his head tilted down to look at you and a resounding sigh leaving his helmet when you smiled.

“Mando?”

An incline of his head was the only greeting you received before he crossed his arms across the wise expanse of his armored chest.

“One sec.”

You got back to your feet and, as if by instinct, ran your eyes over his body, “You didn’t poison yourself again, did you?” You teased lightly, realizing that you were seeing him uninjured for the first time. Well, the second time. But walking into a cantina to do battle with a Houk didn’t could in your estimation.

It gave you pause to notice things about him that you didn’t usually; the way he stood, leaning his weight back on his left foot that gave him an air of lazy arrogance that wouldn’t be misplaced in a loth-wolf relaxing in the winter sun. The strength of his thighs seems to be accentuated by the posture; one hand placed securely at his blaster. If you didn’t know any better, his stance was like an open challenge to every male around him; submit or suffer. But you did know him somewhat, and you knew that he didn’t need to lay down any challenge. He had already won the second he stepped off his ship. The wide breadth of space given to him by passers-by only highlighted that fact.

Even with every patch of skin covered, you could feel the raw power rolling off of him, or was it testosterone? Whatever it was, it tugged at a more primal instinct and ignited a slow, steady heat inside of you that made you both embarrassed and intrigued.

Okay, so you were attracted to the way the man stood. That was fine, that was acceptable. You were a warm-blooded woman in her prime who knew her desires and embraced them. Finding how a Mandalorian… stood, was just another interesting thing to add to your list of things you found attractive.

Along with a raspy baritone and penchant for trouble…

You know what, it was probably just a fantastic indication that you hadn’t been laid in a while, so you made a mental note to deal with that particular issue later.

“I never poisoned myself.” That same low, gruff voice rose to your bait so easily and you had to bite your lip not to laugh, his hand fisting at his side before he unclenched it. Probably thinking about strangling you, honestly. Now there was a thought, for later. Nope, it was definitely the recent dry spell that had you like this. And the sun. The sun always had a part to play in these delusions.

Mando seemed to figure out your game of teasing him however, when you couldn’t fully mask your smile and responded in kind,

“You’re welcome, by the way.” His voice rumbled and you were certain that if you were only a few inches closer, you would be able to feel the vibrations brush against you.

“For what?” You laughed in disbelief, “I had everything under control before you decided to strut into the fray.”

You tried to prevent the frown from creasing between your brows when you thought a little more on the situation. You had a blaster literally pointed to the neck of one of those thugs and they didn’t care. It didn’t even seem like Mando had drawn his weapon and all three had scarpered? Was there any fairness in the galaxy? Obviously not.

The unpainted helmet tilted, the impassive T-visor giving away nothing of its wearers feelings beyond the sigh that left him, “What did you plan to do? Shoot the son of a mudscuffer and have an entire gang out for blood in less than an hour? Yeah, that’s smart.” He snorted.

Your mouth fell open in incredulity, “Talk about the Jawa calling the Ewok short, you’d have done the exact same thing!” You cursed your short temper, especially when it came to the stubborn mule of a man in front of you. The fact that his voice never once rose frustrated you. It remained gravelly but soft, like the sound of pebbles and stones being pushed and pulled by the ocean you could hear from your bedroom as a child.

You were a mature person; you were proud of how you dealt with most things. But in this instance, you allowed your immature side to rear her head momentarily as you began to stalk back to the practice. A piss poor option since the Mandalorian scoffed and kept up with you easily, obviously not content with you having the last word.

“But I wouldn’t be so reckless to not think it through before shooting them.” He tipped his helmet back a little, as if he dared to look down his nose at you. Frustration simmered in your blood as your eyes narrowed at him sideways.

“I was wrong, you obviously are injured. A blow to the head this time was it, Mando? Must be hidden under that kettle you call a helmet” You let out an exasperated breath, shaking your head, “I’ve no cure for that unfortunately.”

You could have sworn you heard a soft noise that sounded remarkably like a chuckle, but it was so quiet and the streets so noisy that you were certain you were wrong.

When the door to the practice-come-living quarters for yourself and Biran came into view, you stopped short. How did you get back here so quickly? Looking over your shoulder, you realized you had led the Mandalorian on a merry chase to nowhere he needed to be. He didn’t look particularly fazed, but the small voice of guilt that sounded an awful lot like your mother had you opening your mouth before you could think twice,

“Do you want to come in?”

What possessed you to invite him in?

It was obvious from both the stilted way you asked and the drawn out, deeply awkward silence that followed. You were about to tuck tail and run inside, slam the door, and pretend you weren’t as mortified as you knew you were when he cocked his head. The movement made you pause in your escape, opening your mouth to tell him to forget about it before the words got lodged in your throat.

“Sure.” Was all he said, and that was how you found yourself staring at a fully armed Mandalorian taking up two thirds of the small settee in the living room to the back of the practice, his hands placed on each thigh as they spread a bit when he sat.

Biran, bless him, took up the last third of the same settee, unfazed by the type of man in his living room and chatting merrily about the last Mandalorian he had met over fifteen years ago.

“And that wasn’t you?”

“No.”

“Ah maybe someone you know then!”

“Maybe.”

Mando’s conversation skills were abysmal.

You didn’t have very high expectations in the first place, but watching it without being a participant, was downright comical. You hid your smile behind the glass of water you had fetched for yourself but the slight tilt of his helmet in your direction told you he had caught your amusement. For someone whose face you couldn’t see, you could practically feel his eyes narrow at you. It made the giddiness from being equal parts anxious and entertained from watching Mando try make nice with the elderly Mirialan rise again and you had to physically bite your lip to stop.

Mando wasn’t listening to Biran anymore, that much was obvious. He wasn’t even looking in his direction, more comfortable blatantly glaring at you instead. Biran was unfazed. Truly, the Mirialan didn’t need a response to have a conversation. A listening ear was sometimes all he wanted. It was a characteristic that endeared you to the him in the first place. The elderly were so often overlooked and written off, but when one only cared enough to listen, they would find themselves enriched with experiences no history book could ever compete with.

“…So how do you two know each other?”

Your attention was dragged back into the conversation so fast you might have given yourself whiplash. You blinked a few times as the Mirialan watched Mando with a clueless smile on his face, completely ignorant to the stiff body beside him.

“Coercive medical attention.” You choked a bit on the sip of water you had taken to buy yourself some time to think; coercive? That rotten---

“Ah, you were a difficult patient, were you?” Biran chuckled, knowing your methods well, “Sweet as pie if you do as your told, but the minute you resist she’ll go for you like a sand panther. I can’t imagine there was much room for bedside manners in the Rebellion, but thankfully that attitude works well in cities like Mynock.” You spluttered again, putting the glass down since it was out to get you too apparently.

Of all the treacherous--, why were you so nice to this old sod again? You would show him a sand panther when you ‘forget’ to buy his favorite tea next time you went shopping.

You seethed to yourself, leaning back in the armchair you had perched yourself on earlier, flyaway hairs from the breeze outside falling into your face which you blew away with a frustrated breath.

“Hm, a panther?” Your eyes rose as the low baritone filled the air after Biran had finished having his laugh at your expense. Mando cocked his head pensively to the side as he looked at you briefly, “More like a kitten, I’d say.” And with that, he looked away.

He didn’t bother saying anything else after that, content with letting Biran’s laughter fill the room and smother the tense silence the two of you were sitting in.

You could feel your cheeks heating up once more as you glared daggers at the tin can in front of you. Why did it feel like you were being simultaneously insulted and flirted with? You couldn’t make the distinction, so you didn’t know how to respond.

Instead, you decided to poke at a different part of the conversation.

“For someone who was coerced, you sure do find yourself on my table quick enough when you need treatment.” Your eyes ran up and down the length of his body candidly when he looked back at you, “and when you don’t need treatment, evidently.”

You smirked when the Mandalorian clenched a fist on his thigh, the third occupant in the room seemingly forgotten as Mando hissed,

“I never asked for your help.”

You scoffed and decided not to deign that with a response.

“Besides, I only stopped over for supplies and fuel.” He admitted and a treacherous part of you sunk a bit at the honesty in his voice. Seeing you was just a coincidence, like always. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air and you fought the twinge of sadness that chased you because of them.

Biran looked between the two of you before standing shakily and patting the Mandalorian on the shoulder with no hesitation, “Allow us to provide you with something extra for your travels then.” He turned his wrinkled face towards you with a smile, the deep groves of his crow’s feet increasing as he nodded to the bags of forgotten groceries, “I think our guest should try the crab. Knowing you, you bought too much as usual.”

You flushed at being caught out, were you really that predicable?

“There’s no need. I got what I came for so, I’ll be going now.” Mando stood fluidly despite his armor, and you were once again struck with how different it was seeing him injured as opposed to healthy. You felt you needed to get used to his presence all over again, with how much it filled the room.

“Thank you, for your hospitality.” He tipped his helmet towards Biran, his voice still rather gruff but laced with a polite softness uncharacteristic to him. Biran waved him off and started making his way back out to the practice when he heard the binary from his medi-droid welcoming a new patient.

That left the two of you standing in a room that suddenly felt much too small for the tension that hung around you both like a blanket. You moved into the kitchen to separate the food you would keep and the food you would give to Mando on one of the countertops, tying the bag tightly by the straps so that it stayed clean and fresh when you were done. You couldn’t hear him move, but you could feel the slight disturbance of the air when he leaned his shoulder casually against the doorframe, arms crossed enticingly once more as he watched you.

“So… what did he call you again? A sand… kitten, was it?”

“Oh, shut up.” You growled over your shoulder at him before turning and shoving the bag with two of the Berbersian crabs and some herbs you knew went well with them, into his hands.

“I don’t need these.” He held the bag out, straightening his stance as he pushed himself from the doorframe. You wisely ignored him.

“All you need is a pan. And water. And heat. Boil them and actually give your body some proper nutrients, would you?”

You explained as you began leading him out towards the private entrance of the residence, through the small kitchen and out into an alleyway that gave you an immediate sense of déjà vu the moment Mando stepped outside. The sun was still beating down and it glinted across the helmet that was becoming as recognizable as a face to you.

“In case you didn’t realize, I’m perfectly healthy.” He replied smoothly, getting his bearings as he examined the alleyway and noted the sounds from the nearby street as the direction he needed to go.

“That’d be a first.” You griped at him, but there was no venom in your words, and he knew it.

You knew he was about to leave, and the suddenness of his departure was as jarring as his arrival. You didn’t know why you felt the need to stall, and you pushed that urge down rapidly in the face of the warrior when he looked back at you from assessing the street not a few feet away.

You sighed and let out a chuckle, wondering again how this man constantly came barreling into your life, disrupting the precarious peace you had brokered while here. You might have said it was a nuisance, but deep down, you knew that he brought a breath of life back into yours every time he crossed your path, reinvigorated the aimless routine you found yourself in. It was unsettling, the way this man had wormed his way into being such a… significant presence in your life. Even after only meeting him three times and always under less than pleasant circumstances.

Part of you wanted to tell him he could stay longer if he wanted; but you knew he would refuse.

Part of you wanted to tell him to be safe; but you knew he wouldn’t be.

Part of you wanted to tell him that you would see him around; but you knew that you probably wouldn’t.

So you settled on a lackluster, “good luck on your hunt” with a small smile as a peace offering for the fraught bickering you always seemed to fall into with him. A peace offering, he seemed to accept as he lifted the bag silently and looked inside,

“Pan. Water. Heat. Right?” His own attempt made your smile grow as you chuckled and nodded,

“You got it, sunshine.”

He nodded once in affirmation while you moved around him back towards the door of the practice. For some reason, you didn’t want to watch him walk away this time. It was easier for you to leave instead. A rumble of your name from the Mandalorian had you looking over your shoulder at him questioningly, the blush that had risen to your cheeks at the sound of your name on his lips not lost on Mando. He had turned back towards you when you moved and after a beat, spoke again.

“See you next time.”

And just like that, your chest hollowed, and a warmth filled you. The weight of his words were like an embrace, a reassurance you didn’t know you needed. Had needed, for longer than you probably knew. It was something secure and encouraging in these times of change and uncertainty, and you felt yourself cling to those words like a lifeline.

The placid nod you offered him with a gentle smile was all he stuck around for. Spinning on his heels, he took off towards the streets of Mynock once more, disappearing in a flash of beskar and steel and for once, you didn’t ponder about possibly seeing him again. You knew you would.

Din settled back into the pilots’ chair of the Razor Crest twenty minutes later, running through the familiar process of flying the ship out of the atmosphere and into the comfort of space, eager to escape into hyperdrive as soon as he was clear enough from Dandoran.

See you next time?

He groaned leaned his head back against the chair, staring up at the ceiling of the cockpit, his brows drawn low over his eyes as he frowned. What possessed him to offer that promise, he didn’t know. Maybe it was the way your eyes had dimmed slightly when he was about to leave, or when you had wished him luck on a job he was still so uncertain about. Maybe it was the way you blushed when he said your name.

Or maybe it was just because he wanted to see you again too.

And that was the most troubling reason of all.

Din didn’t do friends, he had acquaintances and colleagues even if the term was tenuous. He had the covert and the foundlings, but he didn’t have people he actually wished to see. Never trusted anyone beyond what they could each offer one another. You hadn’t looked for anything from him, and it was unsettling. He didn’t know if he could trust you, years of training and experience told him otherwise. But from the old memories of you pressing Raquor’daan poison from his wound to the teasing friendship you displayed with the old Mirialan, his resolve softened a little.

His eyes flicked to the rapidly shrinking planet he was leaving.

Trust was too strong a word right now, but respect… he could admit that he respected you. And that alone put you on a very short list of people, one he was sure you would never truly understand the importance of.

And he was right.

You would never know the significance of being on that very short list of people, but in that moment, Din’s grudging respect for you set both of your lives on a very different course than either of you ever anticipated; one that revolved around a very special, very small, green child.

Once Dandoran had faded sufficiently behind the Razor Crest, he keyed in the co-ordinates to the far reaches of the Outer Rim and entered hyperspace and after several days of travel, he finally struck beskar when the tracking fob starting beeping as he coasted through space. He smirked behind his helmet as he changed direction and noted the closest planet on his navicomputer where his bounty was hidden.

Arvala-7.

Gotcha.

Stitches Taglist:

@geannad @ayamenimthiriel​ @sarahjkl82-blog @gracie7209​ @nova646 @pychedelic-rainbow

[lamamasjamas]

A Night in Coruscant pt 2

a/n: :)))

Word Count: 1.7k

Series masterlist

You noticed several gashes in areas where his armor couldn’t protect him. Tender flesh ripped apart from a blade gave you the urge to give up and let this man die. Why should you care, he’s a bounty hunter, the cruelest people in the galaxy who show no mercy to victims who couldn’t pay their dues to those in power.

But bounties could be bad people too.

Maybe you are a bad person…

No, you had to do it…

There was no other way…

Shaking your head, you see that there was blood everywhere. It was starting to smell like copper. Kriff, you don’t know this man, is he worth saving.

You can’t have another life on your hands again. How would you live with yourself then?

You start with taking the prices of armor that could be a problem for your stitches. The chest plate and pauldron didn't add any bulk he didn’t already have, you noted of course.

Now you needed to check for any injuries on his head… or face.

Carefully you grasp both sides of his helmet in your hands and take a moment to stare into the solid black T. You hesitate. What is he? What if he looks like a Hutt’s ass. Could he be Trandoshan, you wouldn’t mind. You just hope he wasn’t ugly and ruin the illusion for you.

You inhale in preparation and exhale when you finally slide the helm off his head. You instinctually close your eyes. When you realized how childish you were acting you slowly parted your eyelids.

The first thing you noticed was his nose. Since his eyes were closed you couldn’t really focus on them like you would when meeting a person in a mutually conscience situation.

Kriff was he handsome. He looked like he would be in those holodramas you religiously watch.

Like a real knight in shining armor here to save you from your misery.

You subconsciously cup his face and trace up his nose with your thumbs. Tracing his eyebrows and reaching his ears then…

He's getting cold and losing blood from the gaping wounds you have been neglecting for a while now. You should probably do something about that.

Stopping what you were doing you reluctantly focused and finally went to work. Cleaning and stitching his wounds while occasionally glancing back at his very pleasant face.

Thoughts were running through your head while he was laying awkwardly on the too small bed. Which was in the house. Where you live.

Why did you bring a man who would not even think twice about kidnapping you into your home, to lay in your bed, using your valuable, you might add, resources to heal his wounds. You're no medic but you learned how to “fix” some mistakes in the past. You did a pretty fine job if you do say so yourself.

Dank Farrik. What will happen when he wakes up. Surely he’ll be eternally grateful for you saving his life and he would decide not to turn you in. He seems reasonable, no matter how intimidating he may look.

You decided to leave him be and check on him the next day.

You wake up with anxiety deep in your stomach, you almost forgot about the man unconscious on your couch in your living room. You guess it was time to try to wake him up and lead him out. Like the good host you were, you decided to make him something to drink.

Turning on the stove and leaving the kettle on top of it you leave briefly to gather the herbs and ingredients needed from your artificial garden in your backyard.

You failed to notice that your guest was starting to wake up.

You faintly heard curses coming from the living room. How nice you thought, he’s awake and right on time for a calming drink of tea or coffee. He seemed like a coffee kind of guy.

You see him gathering all of his things and trying to put back his armor. This would be a normal reaction if not for the terrible amount of shaking and angry curses spewing out of his mouth at the moment. Your plans of offering him breakfast were dissuaded when you step into the room and he turns sharply to look at you.

His eyes are brown. Dark brown. The color of soil, wet, fertile dirt made to nurture plants to grow; something unattainable to you. Except now.

He snarls at you and you instinctively back away. One step forward for him is two steps back for you. Your back is to the wall and you feel him closing in on you. You raise your hands to push him away but he just grips them and with great force slam them against the wall next to your head.

“You have no idea what you just did.” It sounds like a growl. You attempt to curl into yourself but his hands keep you steady planted against the wall. You try to respond but he beats you to it, “Why did you take off my helmet?”

Is that why he was so aggressive? He didn't act this way even towards the twi’leks who were about to kill him. You were scared out of your mind. You must have been taking too long to respond because he gripped your wrists tighter surely causing bruises you would see later.

“I- I was just trying to help you-I swear. I didn’t even think about stealing your armor or harming you at all. please- “ “You should have let me die”

What the hell. This man is kriffing insane.

“W-wait, w-what?” “No living being can see me without my helmet.”

I’m dead. At least I was able to die at the hands of such a handsome man, maker knows how long ago it’s been since I’ve even seen one up close.

He suddenly pulls you away from the wall and leads you to the couch and forcefully pushes you down to sit. He kneels in front of you, being face to face. “You need to repeat exactly what I say.” “wha-” “Do you want to die?”

Saying a few words or die? Seems like an easy choice. With a whimper you reply with a quiet no. He sighs deeply, closes his eyes and murmurs a soft ok in response. He starts off with a stern repeat after me, then “Mhi solus tome…” he waits for you to follow his lead. And finishes with “Mhi ba’juri verde”

He stares blankly at your face, and for a moment you just stare at each other saying nothing. The shrill sound of the kettle startles you both and you try to get up and turn off the stove. He catches your wrist, gently this time and stops you from going towards the kitchen.

He has his helmet in his hand and puts it on. “Go pack your essentials and valuables, we're leaving.” His voice sounds almost robotic due to the modulator built in the helmet. His touch is gentle but his voice is still stern. He lets go, and you immediately follow his command afraid he would change his mind about killing you.

While packing your things you realized you didn’t know why he was making you pack in the first place. Was he going to turn you in for a bounty, despite everything that’s happening. And if he was turning you in, why is he telling you to pack valuables?

You heard a knock at the door pulling you from your racing thoughts and realized he might be annoyed by how long you were taking, not only by the hard pounding of your bedroom door but by his irritated voice telling you to “Hurry it up”.

You quickly hid your stolen vibroblade in your back pocket and opened the door. The door frame made him look broader and taller and overall giving him a much more intimidating look. He steps forward into the bedroom and looks around. “Have you gotten everything?”

You ignore the question completely and ask one of your own, “Where are you taking me?” His shoulders tense and you suddenly realize you're in no position to be asking the questions.

Still looking through your things in your bedroom he says “You’re coming with me. To my ship.”

“What -” “You ask what a lot.” “I don’t know- what are yo- where are you taking me?”

He just shrugs. That could mean he's not going to stuff you in a carbon freezer and turn you in, or he actually is and he's not telling you directly.

“No” He sighs deeply and turns “No what.” “I'm not going with you.” Another deep sigh and he charges towards you, taking you by such surprise that you drop your bag and forget that you had a weapon hidden in your pocket. He picks you up by the waist easily and throws you over his shoulder. He then squats down to pick up your bag and holds it as if you weighed nothing.

His hands are huge in comparison to you and you feel yourself heat up by both the embarrassment and the thought of his hands so close to your ass.

He strides towards your living room while also slinging the shoulder strap over his shoulder that wasn't currently occupied. You are in such shock that you have become pliant enough to not struggle. Why try when you know he could probably beat you anyway.

He moves towards the kitchen and collects a thermos of tea, which you assume he made while you were packing. He doesn't seem to stop or slow down after he locks your door and exits the house.

Several minutes later you can feel him slow down, and try to turn to see what he was approaching. It was the ugliest ship you have ever laid eyes on in your life. A Razor Crest, a much much older model than the ones you've seen. You have no idea how he even has it functioning; it's so damn old.

He pressed a button on his wrist and the hangar slowly opened. He definitely fixed her up that’s for sure. Thank the maker for that. He carefully put you down along with your bag. He was so tall he had to slightly bend down to reach your eye level. With his hands on his hips he curtly said, “Stay.” and closed the hangar.

He left towards the cockpit with several crates which you assumed were filled with his weapons and gear.

You avoided turning your head towards the buzzing of the carbon-freeze station.

[alreadyblondenow]

Never get to hold you | Lee Haechan

Lee Haechan x female!reader x Lee Jeno

▸ Fluff, smut, angst? Haechan is poor ▸ Part of To All the Members I’ve Loved Before: Dear 127, hosted by me ​

Summary: Growing up in a fucked up household, Haechan has always been thankful for his friend Jeno for treating him like his real brother. From giving him food, to letting him stay in their big house, to lending him money for school. Jeno has always been an angel. Until one day, Haechan found another angel, you. Finally his life is now brighter than ever… but not for long, because Jeno likes you too. Will Haechan let this once in a lifetime love slip and give you to his true friend who’s always been nice to him? Or will he be selfish?

Work count: 6k flat amazing

Warnings: Smut, toxic household, mentions of parents fighting, Haechan is poor here, if you are not okay with the idea please click away. Unprotected sex, couch sex, mentions of rough sex, overstimulating, Haechan smoked one cigarette, mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, mentions of Haechan’s sister, break up, slight cheating? but not really A/N: Pure fiction. Haechan’s character here is inspired by Justin Fooley from 13 reasons why. And the friendship is inspired by Bryce and Justin’s friendship. hehe. Originally this is a cheating au, but I’ve been writing a lot of cheating au so.... lets do the right thing for now. HAHA. also I did not include a lot of smut just because it doesn’t fit the story so i hope you understand that and still enjoy reading this. <3 

A peaceful night that’s what Haechan longs for. A night free from the screaming and shouting of his parents, the glass shattering and never-ending blaming. He turns the volume up of the song he’s listening to from his mp3 player, closed his eyes, and tried sleeping. It’s not calming or whatsoever but it’s better than hearing the bickering.

For Haechan, sleep does not fix anything but it sure does make him feel better once he wakes up and finally faces another fun day in school. Yes. That’s right, Haechan loves going to school for it makes him feel like he’s a normal person. Not everyone in school knew how fucked up his life is and that’s another thing why he loves going to school. School and his friends have been his escape.

“You’re coming tonight right?” Jeno sneaks from behind and swings an arm on his best friend.

“Of course I’ll be there. I have to drive your drunk ass home-“ Haechan jokes but he was soon interrupted by something so unfortunate.

His shoes gave up on him.

“I think I should go and get this fixed before class starts. Not again,” Haechan said, stopping to remove his worn-out shoes and check them further while Jeno watch him.

“I have my Balenciaga shoes in my locker I don’t use that anymore. If you don’t want to keep it or accept it, at least use it for the day,” Jeno smiles at his friend and pats his back. But before Haechan could even say no to his best friend, Jeno is long gone for the school bell rang already.

Every since Haechan is new in town, Jeno has been a good friend to him. Both very different boys but they are brothers by heart and got each other’s back. For Haechan, Jeno is an angel to which he almost feels bad for not giving something in return for all the things Jeno gave him. Not just material things but Jeno offers financial help to Haechan too, in fact, Jeno is the reason why Haechan’s mother got a job at a store Mrs. Lee owns.

So you see, being a loyal and true friend is the only thing Haechan can give in return for now.

After school, Haechan fixed his wretched shoes before going to his part-time job. There, while he looks over the convenience store, he does his homework on the side and makes sure that he studies in advance so he can get closer to the college and scholarship that he’s aiming for and finally get out of this hell hole.

“You like studying so much?”

A voice made him drop his pen and went to work immediately. Punching the cashier and putting the stuff you bought in a plastic bag with a shy smile. A shy smile that miraculously lights up your day, he’s like a sun you thought.

“College. You’re new here right? I saw you earlier with the student body president. I’ve been there, being new in town will get easier... with the right people” Haechan says.

“Well, I had a bad first day, but thank you.... Hyuck. It’s great to know that eventually, everything will get better ” you read his name tag and smiled so sweetly at him. Oh, you wish it’s not obvious that you’re flirting.

When you left you’re all he could think of. He can’t stop thinking about your smile, how it’s obvious that you’re flirting with him but he thinks you’re so cute rather than flirty, he even beats himself up for not asking your name and making you stay longer.

As he walks his way home under a quiet night and with nothing in his head but your smile, he replays his only memory of you in his head while smiling alone and looking like a complete idiot. But when he was just a few walks from his house, he hears the screaming and shouting again.

He ran towards the door and straight to his sister’s room, not giving a fuck about why his parents are fighting. He hugs his little sister who’s in tears and basically shaking from fear, keeping her close to him to let her know that he is here now. And this is the sadness and reality he had to face every day.

“You scared?” He whispers but his face shows no fear to show his sister that his big brother is ready to protect her.

“Where were you?” She whines and snuggles to her brother more.

“I was at work, sorry. You know something wonderful happened to me today,” Haechan ready himself to tell his sister how you two met for the first time. She has always loved Hyuck’s stories and she’s always interested in the people his brother is friends with, especially Jeno.

“Well, why didn’t you ask her name? Will you see her again?” She asks eagerly. “I want more stories about her, she sounds sweet even though your conversation was too short”

“Yeah I know. Maybe I can talk to her by Monday and tell her, ‘hey my little sister wants us to be friends’” he jokes.

And so the night went on, exchanging stories with his sister until his parents stopped fighting and eventually his sister fell asleep in his arms. To be honest,  he didn’t want to leave his sister alone after what happened tonight, but he promised Jeno that he will be there so he needs to be there.

Going to Jeno’s birthday celebration in a bar downtown is the last thing he wants to do after having a hard night. The bar was loud, packed, and it’s giving him a headache. So he promised himself that he will stay here for half an hour only, which did not happen because his heart feels heavy.

So he went out to have a cigarette and to clear his mind, having a debate with his conscience whether he’s going back in or not.

“The answer is no,” you said from behind which made him turn immediately and face you. “I’m watching you for a few minutes already and your feet is obviously hesitating to go back inside”

“It’s that obvious? Am I really that easy to read?” he takes one final hit from his cigarette before he throws it away. You nod with a smile to answer his question. It’s obvious that you’re happy to see each other again. “Why aren’t you inside? It’s cold out here,” he would give you his jacket if only he’s wearing one right now but he’s not.

“Everyone is loud inside and I feel like I’ve had enough of the screaming and overflowing booze, you know?” You answered awkwardly. Little did you know that Haechan feels the exact same thing. “But I should probably go and not ruin the silence here too so-“

“I can’t stop thinking about you” Haechan finally blurted out. He didn’t mean to but those are the words that came out from his mouth the moment he saw you turn and was about to walk away. “I don’t even know your name but my sister thinks your cool” he added, trying to sound fun and interesting. Heck, he’s trying to make you stay.

And it's working.

“You have a sister and you told her about me?” Haechan nods with a shy smile, “Well what did you tell her?” You asked with a flirty tone.

“I told her that I’ve never seen a smile so beautiful and that I feel stupid for not asking your name” he shamelessly flirts and came closer to you, making your heart beat faster and making you really nervous.

“Take me some somewhere quiet and I’ll tell you my name” you flirted back.

And without any second thoughts, he brought you to a place where you two can laugh out loud freely, and there's no loud music to bother the moment. You introduced yourself and all he did was giggle and tell you that his little sister will be happy about this. Haechan made you laugh nonstop, telling you the happy memories he holds dear and even small parts about his life, without fooling you and making you think that he’s someone else.

Now that he gets the chance to talk to you again, he wanted to embrace you while he pours all his honesty to you and hopes that you don’t mind liking someone fucked up like him. But Haechan thought that telling you that he’s poor as a rat on your first night together is not something worth staying for, so he shrugged it off and continue asking more about you.

Until you both lost track of time and he offered to walk you home, which you think it’s sweet.

“Do you want to have some water first, before you go? It’s a long way back. M-my parents are not home so no need to be shy,” you offered with a hint of other intentions that he surely understood. And thankfully he accepted.

The moment you closed the door, he stopped you from opening the lights, his hands are on your face and your lips touched immediately. Returning the kiss without hesitation, heads turning continuously and both tongues are wanting for something more.

You motion him to the couch and push him until he falls on the cushions and let out a quiet giggle. It was a pity that you wouldn’t see his bright smile. “You okay with this?” he slips his hand inside your shirt and smoothly removed it.

“More than okay,” you said and started to undo his belt and remove his pants. Soon, you’re both wearing only your underwear while grinding on top of each other. Shy to make a move but your kisses and moans say otherwise. You’re the one who initiates it this time, unclasping your bra and making him knead and cup your boobs shamelessly.

“Do I need a condom?” he asks, removing his boxers brief, throwing it on the floor, and immediately slipped his hand inside your panties while you’re on top of him kissing him like there’s no tomorrow.

You moaned softly when his fingers made contact with your very wet slit and told him, “No. But pull out?” he nods and told you he will. And because of that assurance, you finally removed your panties and went on top of him.

“It’s hard to pull out if you’re going to be on top, maybe next time?” He says and effortlessly switched your positions, putting him on top of you. He pulls away for a second and pumped his cock in between your opened legs, came in closer to kiss you before he pushes his in.

His kisses were gentle and sweet like he’s not about you fuck you in the next few seconds. But when he finally lined his cock and slowly thrust in, both of you moaned and forgot that you were kissing for a second. Sharp gasps escaped your mouth while delicious groans escaped from his. Slowly he takes his time pushing in and out without thrusting all the way, which surely builds the momentum and it definitely made you want more of him.

“I’ll go deeper” thankfully he noticed and pushed in finally. Thrusting a little bit quicker than earlier while his fingers are busy drawing circles on your clit.

Soon, you’re both on edge. Too shy to admit it but you can’t stop clenching and unclenching around him, “Stop doing that,” he says and kissed your neck, bitting the shell of your ear to hear you giggle while he makes you moan deliciously.

He came first as expected because you can’t stop moaning behind his ears and making him feel good with your tight walls. He shoots his cum on your stomach, away from your pussy while his other hand is continuously drawing fast circles and making you cum in no time.

You shivered like crazy and tried closing your legs but Haechan got a hold of it and overstimulated you.

“Wild-brutal, that’s you” you said while you continue to shiver, curl yourself in a ball and beg him to stop.

He kisses your body, avoiding his cum but still managed to suck your nipples good as you come down from your high. When you’re finally calm, you reached for the tissue on the coffee table to wipe yourself clean but he snatched the tissue from your hand and did it himself. After that, you moved your body and make room on the small couch so he can lie beside you, using his arms as your pillow, keeping you close to his sweaty body.

“You’re the second girl I kept in my arms tonight,” he says softly. Looking into your eyes directly. You know that it's his sister and it made you smile and planted a kiss on his lips.

“Can you keep it that way then?” you said, softly like how he spoke. He nods and tightens his hug.

“To be honest I feel like I’m a slut right now because I slept with you first... on my first day of school, my first day of meeting you-“

“Sssh. You think too much. You’re not a slut. I like you, you like me. It’s a normal reaction” he kisses your lips and your cheeks one too many times to make you giggle and eventually let go of your thoughts. “I have to go back to my friends” he added.

“What- No, stay, please. My parents wouldn’t mind” you begged but he shook his head and got up from his comfort.

“I’ll find you again”

“Well give me your phone” you said, eager to make him stay. Eager to stay in his life.

“I don’t have one because I can’t afford one” Haechan was shy to tell you the truth but he didn’t want to lie to you. But of course, you understand him instead of prying. You sat up, kissed him sweetly and told him,

“It’s fine. You know where I live, so we're going to do this old school then” you giggle and make the most of the few minutes you have with him. He reached for your panties and helped you wear them together with your shirt, leaving a soft kiss on your lower abdomen.

“Is that fine? Going old school?” He asks smiling and asking for another kiss.

“More than fine, that means I get to see you always” he giggled and told you that’s right and continued wearing the rest of his clothes.

The next day, Haechan woke up with a smile on his face by just merely thinking about you and thinking of going to your house tonight and surprise you after he hangs out with Jeno at the amusement park.

As his day went on with his best friend, all he thinks about is you. Did you eat already, how was your sleep, do you think of him, and what are you doing now? These are questions that he wanted to ask you because he misses you already, but also, these are the questions that attracted the universe into putting you both in the same place.

Just a few minutes ago, Haechan is thinking about you but now you’re right in front of him... with a blindfold at The Kissing Booth and about to kiss Jeno.... Jeno of all people.

There, Haechan stood and watch you and Jeno kiss in front of the audience. Watching your friends take a video and giggle as much as they want because you have no idea who you’re kissing right now. Oh they would kill to be in your position and taste Jeno’s lips. While you... you think about the gentleman who made you laugh over and over again last night, the gentleman who’s honest about everything, and the gentleman who made you feel good on your family couch last night.

And when you removed your blindfold, you can’t help but feel disappointed. It’s not Haechan you’re kissing, he hasn’t found you again.

When Jeno came closer and attempted to kiss you again, you pushed him away in front of many people, smiled and whispered, “We had our fun already, I think that’s enough. Sorry, I was hoping you’d be someone else” and came down from the stage to join your friends.

The disappointment in Jeno’s face was evident. He felt like he violated you or something and wanted to apologize further but you didn’t give him a chance. He saw Haechan standing in the corner with a soda in his hand and joined him, “That was something. I feel like I was taken to another dimension while I was kissing her. Damn I like her already” Jeno admits, having no clue that Haechan knows exactly what he’s talking about.

“Hey.... Haechan” you taped his shoulder which made him and Jeno turn around. You didn’t want to be bold and flirty with him in front of his friend so you just said hey.

Jeno was shocked to the core when you approached his friend and not him, and he was even more shocked to see you smile so sweetly at Haechan. “You know each other?” he asks you both nervously.

“Yes”

“No”

“N-no. Not really. Dude, everyone knows her. New girl in town plus she came by the store during my shift yesterday after school” Haechan explains. Completely denying that you two shared something special the other night.

Good thing Jeno believed and accepted Haechan’s explanation, so this time he didn’t waste any more time and shoot his shot. “I want to apologize to you. Can we go for a walk? Alone together-“

“Good idea man. I think I should go. I have a shift at the store, s-see you at school. B-both of you,” he says and awkwardly walks out and left you with Jeno.

You wanted to follow him, you would rather want to watch him work at the store than be with Jeno and waste your time strolling around the park, you’ve been wanting to be with him ever since you opened your eyes this morning and now you can’t believe that he denied you in front of his friend.

The whole time he was walking in circles around his neighborhood, Haechan can’t stop thinking about you and Jeno. Even hating the universe more for making him and Jeno like the same girl. Fuck, he murmured frustratingly until he came to a thought that maybe life brought you to Haechan’s life so he could finally give something back to his best friend.

Maybe he’s doing the right thing by letting you and Jeno get to know each other.

“You’re a fool,” his sister teases him while he watches her brush her teeth. Haechan just snorted and let out a small laugh knowing that his little sister is smart and that she’s growing up wise.

“But when you grow old you can’t just commit to something or someone if you know to yourself that you can’t. Be honest,” he kisses her sister good night and tucked her to bed. Wishing for her sister to grow up strong and smart, and not like him.

///

After a few weeks of seeing Jeno and going out on dates with him, you force yourself to think that what happened between you and Haechan is just a one time thing. That you were just horny teenagers that night who both had a bad day that’s why you thought it was something special.

It’s not that you’re using Jeno to forget Haechan, but Jeno is the one making his moves and trying so hard to impress you. He’s almost as nice as Haechan you thought. Maybe that’s why they’re best friends, and maybe that’s why now you look forward to seeing Jeno every day because you see Haechan in him.

Until one night, you and Jeno had a rather hot night that leads you two to his bed. Sex with Jeno is rough and fast and to be honest you forgot how many condoms he used because the sex was that good. And in that very moment, you realized that the only difference between Jeno and Haechan is the way they fuck. Jeno made you forget Haechan whenever you two are in bed and that made you want Jeno to fuck you more each day.

But Jeno is a natural sweetheart, a lover boy who shows you that he is a great man and a good person. “I know we fuck too much and it's obvious that something is bothering you” he says, hugging you closely while you’re on top of him after a very good car sex. “You can tell me, you know?” he added but you just shook your head no. “Okay okay, I understand. I love you. Whatever you’re going through or whatever that’s bothering you, continue to lean on me. Use me if you must,”

And right then and there, you decided to return the love Jeno is giving you.

It was not easy but it was worth it. Jeno loved you so much, more than you could ever imagine. You spend your senior year together, made memories each day, have good sex after school or during weekends, be the life of the party together, and meet each other’s family.

“Are you happy with me?” he whispers behind your ear while he hugs you from behind.

“What kind of question is that?” you said, turning around to meet his eyes and rake his hair away from his face. Not giving a fuck about the people watching you two flirt in the middle of a crowded place with drunk teenagers.

“Just a question. My way of checking if I’m still a good boyfriend” he admitted shyly. You rolled your eyes and came closer to him, planting a soft kiss on his lips which soon became heated and his hands roamed freely around your body.

“Mhmm. I'm happy, I love you” you whisper and you mean it.

“I love you too” he smiles and continues the kiss.

And while you two are in your own private world minding your business, Haechan watches from afar with a beer in his hand. Jealous, but not mad. Happy, but for you and his best friend. You deserve each other, he thought.

So as you and Jeno make your relationship strong and pour all your love on each other, Haechan became even more hardworking, focused more on his studies, and looking for more jobs to save more money. It was his way of forgetting you.

During a party that Jeno threw in his house, everything was intensely wild and everyone got drunk during the party, except Haechan because he was late due to his shift from one of his part-time job.

He saw you laughing with your friends near the poolside. You look beautiful tonight, as always. And at the same time, you look drunk already and all he wanted to do is take care of you but that’s not his job.

“Great that you’re here man, ugh. I’m so drunk” Jeno whines, almost about to throw but he’s still in control. “Here. Promised her dad I’d bring her home, but obviously, I can’t now. I can’t drive while I’m like this, knowing that she’s in the car with me. Too risky. Please dude, thank you”

And just like that, the responsibility and the power to take care of you is passed unto him.

“Baby, Haechan will bring you home- I can’t drive” Jeno admitted to you. Giving you his jacket before he walks you towards his car.

“W-what? Let me stay then, I’ll take care of you. Then you can drive me home when you’re sober” you said but your boyfriend said no and told you you’re as drunk as him. So you didn’t have a choice but to go inside the car with Haechan. He watched you two kiss goodbye and say your I love yous with each other before he drives away and takes you home.

The drive was silent. You didn’t dare to open your mouth and ask how he’s been, he didn’t dare to open his mouth and tell you that you’re beautiful. And it stayed like this until he reaches your house and parked in front of it.

“Do you remember the night that you walked me home?” you started, and you think it’s the alcohol that's talking. Haechan just nods and lets out a heavy sigh. “I wish it never happened. I wish I didn’t flirt back then and went back inside that bar instead of asking you to take me somewhere quiet” you admitted, feeling your heart break but you can finally breathe better now that you told him what you really feel. But deep inside you didn’t mean it. You’re just saying that because you’re still mad at him for denying you.

He unbuckles his seatbelt and reached for you, shamelessly hugging you, and placed a sweet kiss on your temple. You feel his tears and that made you hug him back. Staining his shirt with your tears that you kept for months.

“I’m sorry. I can’t give you what Jeno can give you. My life is a mess, I’m a trash and you deserve someone better. Someone who can take care of you, I can’t” he hugged you a little bit tighter to let you know that he’s sincere. And after a few minutes of silence, he explained his part to you and you listened attentively not because he owes you an explanation but because you miss his voice.

“When I was new here, bullies just won't stop teasing me, then Jeno became my friend and suddenly they all stopped. Jeno didn’t mind if I’m poor, he just wanted a brother and found it in me. That’s why whenever I’m in need he’s always to the rescue, my books, my mother’s job, this Rolex watch that I only use whenever I need it at work. I remember he gave this to me because he didn’t want to give me cash because he was afraid that will make me feel small. So instead he gave me this watch and expected me to pawn it. But I can’t because it’s like a token of our friendship”

“I get it. Bro code” you said calmly and watch him nod. “But who are you to tell me who to love. My heart still belongs to you when Jeno was courting me, I think about you when he kisses me-“

“Do you still feel the same way?” he blurted out, looking at your lips and thinking of kissing it one last time before you have your closure. But he won't.

“I love Jeno but you still have this great effect on me, you still have my heart” you admitted.

“I’m sure you understand me now. Why I don’t want to hurt my friend” you nod because you do understand him, you don’t want to hurt your boyfriend either, “He’s an angel” Haechan added.

When Haechan left and drove away, you feel like he took your heart away with him. Like that one specific night you had sex with him and you didn’t want him to go. You know what you said. You don’t want to hurt Jeno and you do love him, but what can you do? Your heart still belongs to Haechan.

After that understanding with Haechan, you suddenly became cold towards Jeno and all you could think about is Haechan. Obviously, Jeno can see right through you. He knows you, whenever something troubles you, you will keep it to yourself and you won’t tell it to him. So he made a way to cheer you up, but it ended up annoying you.

He invited you to his house to have a sleepover and movie night with him. The thing is, Jeno knew you love having sex with him so the moment you two are alone in his room with all the lights off and only his big flat-screen TV is on, he tried putting you in the mood and became way too touchy.

“Stop” you whine as Jeno starts kissing your neck while his hands roam free around your body. It feels good you can’t lie, but you’re not in the mood so you pushed him a little too hard which made him even more frustrated.

“What did I do wrong? I wish you could open up to me more, Y/n” he gets up from his bed and gave you space. “You’ve been like that for days and days already, I don’t know if I did something wrong. Baby, just tell me. I’ll fix it,”

And there it is. Your very reason why you loved him “Why do you have to be so nice?” you murmur and sat beside him. You knew that this isn’t the right time to tell him about Haechan, but he asked what's bothering you so you’re going to tell him the truth and do the right thing. Bravely, you told him every inch of your feelings, the truth about you and Haechan, and hopes that he will not get mad at you or his friend.

He listened. While Holding your hand. Close to tears but he won’t cry in front of you. Not yet. But now that he knows the truth about you and his best friend, he felt like he stole you from him.

“Don’t be mad at him, he just feels obligated to give back to all the kindness you have done to him and his family” you wait for his reaction. You expect him to get mad or throw a fit but all he did was kiss your knuckles, hold them tightly, and kept you close while he can.

“So what now? Do you need time? Space even? It hurts like hell, I must admit but I can’t force you to stay” he says, with tears in his eyes and trying so hard to look strong.

“I need space from the both of you, choosing is not easy. I don’t want to hurt you in the future Jeno” you said.

“I can’t force you to stay, but I can beg right? I love you-“ He cups your face and leaves too many kisses on your lips, saying he loves you over and over again, begging you to please choose him.

“I’m sorry Jeno, please don’t beg. You don’t deserve this,” you made him stop begging and pull him into a tight hug. Inviting him to come to bed with you and savor this night together while you can because, on the next day, you will leave him.  

///

When you broke up with Jeno and focused all your energy on school, you walk almost every day from school to your house just so you can sort out your thoughts.

Jeno stopped begging you to come back after a few months and got himself a new girlfriend while Haechan… well, he’s doing his best with avoiding you. Still, breaking up with Jeno is a wise decision because now it’s clear that you don’t love him like how you love and long for Haechan.

“Fuck” you curse at the rain for pouring out of nowhere and you have no choice but to enter the store that Haechan is looking after. Just like the rain, you came out of nowhere and shock him. But shocking him and ruining his peace was not your intention, you’re just waiting for the rain to stop so you can go and walk again.

Shivering because of the store’s air conditioning, you hug yourself to keep yourself warm in every way you can but it’s not enough. You tried going out again but the rain kept pouring and it started to rain hard again when you tried and open the door. But then you heard the sound of the air conditioning being turned off, and Haechan is behind you holding the remote and some extra clothes.

“You’ll get sick if you stay wet. Here-“ he awkwardly hands you an extra shirt and his hoodie, “You can change back there. There’s no one else in this store except me,” he says and points at the door for the staff room. Of course you accepted his offer and you’re happy that he still cares.

When you got back, you saw him preparing you a hot drink and made you sit on one of the vacant chairs. “How are you?” he asks, stirring the drink and puts it in front of you carefully.

“I’ve been well, thank you for asking. How about you? How's your sister?”

“I’m doing good too. And my sister is fine”

And after that, an awkward silence made you both giggle and feel shy about being alone in this cold store. But not for long. Haechan initiated the conversation and made small talk with you. If he’s being honest right now, he doesn’t want you to shut up. He wanted you to talk and talk freely without being shy… like that first night you spend together.

When the rain stopped, he walked you home again and you both enjoyed the cool breeze and wet street. Admiring the calmness that the rain brought. “Why did you avoid me? After me and Jeno broke up?” you asked calmly.

“I know we learned the hard way and we’ve been through some stuff” he came closer and put strands of your hair behind your ear, “I’ve been helping myself to be better for you so this time I won’t fuck us up, and I wasn’t avoiding you. I’m giving you time to heal” he smiles and looked into your eyes deeply.

“Can we start again?” he finally blurted out. “This is my final attempt on keeping you, and… I just want to fight for you this time”

The rain was a blessing after all. You don’t know if the rain was a sign of starting over again but you’re glad that you decided to walk today and got soaked in the rain and did not have a choice but to enter that convenience store. But you’re happy that the rain brought you back together, so you hugged him tightly as your answer and warned him with all your might.

“If I wake up tomorrow and you deny me again, I swear Lee Haechan-“

And just like that, he cuts you off with a kiss, an act of promise so you won’t need to worry for the next day. “My sister will kill me if I let go of you again” he giggles and continue kissing you.

Who would have thought that you need only the rain for you and Haechan to get back together? Because after that night, he kept his promise to you. He never left your side and you never left his. Life wasn’t easy for him still, but you made sure you stayed with him through thick and thin.

Even though Haechan can’t bring you to expensive dates or movie dates, being with him while he’s working at the convenience store is more than enough for you. “I love my job. I can earn money while having a study date with you in this cold store” he says, kissing your temple while you’re busy reading and studying beside him.

Your remaining high school days were full of him and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

After graduation, you and Haechan planned on living together even though you’re both going to different schools, thankfully your schools aren’t that far from each other. Living together is not easy, your parents warned you. But Haechan made it easy for you because he loves you so much. Nonetheless, you would still choose a hard life with and just so you could be together the moment you open your eyes in the morning until you close them to end your day at night.

“It's you and me from now on, Y/n” he whispers beside your ear, hugging you from behind so tightly like you’re going somewhere and finally kiss you good night.

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