#i can literally spend as much time as I can on memorizing new words and I won't remember them

[feathers-little-nest]

omg! the reason why I was so shit at learning every language I tried to learn before is catching up to me! who would've thought!

[wolviensabes]

Logan and pregnancy.

RQ: 'Logan taking care of his pregnant girlfriend perchance 🤔' -@wheezyth3dem0n

Warnings: F!reader, pregnancy themes, written in HC style.

A/N: I just wrote pregnancy hcs on my main blog so let's keep the theme going. Ignore grammar mistakes, not edited.

Logan knows you're pregnant instantly when the scent of your hormones change.

He looks to you and he isn't sure how to feel just yet. He hadn't planned on getting you pregnant, it wasn't something that he ever thought about. But it was his reality now, and he wasn't too sure on how to feel.

He was just a little wary jumping into something so permeant, considering your lifestyles. The dangers that are involved, all he thought about was how the baby would be in constant danger. Especially knowing it would most likely be mutant.

You were a little hurt, knowing he was a bit standoffish since the discovery, but after some thinking he had come around and explained what he was thinking about, and how he was just worried about its upbringing. It was reassuring that he comforted you in this sense, even if it initially hurt when he backed off.

"M'sorry, this is all...new to me. I never thought I'd be a dad...of all people." Logan grumbled to you, rubbing your back to try to reassure you that he was happy, it was just...a lot for him to take in.

When you begin to show, Logan's presence starts to become more and more. His missions are spread out a bit more, and he spends more time around you. At first, your pregnancy is mostly independent, besides him being around in the evening. You figure it's because he's still processing that you are carrying his kin, but as he starts to come around more often, you're surprised but decide not to mention it.

Logan starts to observe you closer, his hands often find your belly and rub it. He can hear the heartbeat, and he leans closer so he can rest by your belly. Most nights are like this when he's not holding you. He pays close attention to your habits, as well as schedule, memorizing everything you do day to day. When you get a little bigger, he notices daily tasks are a bit more difficult for you.

"Let me help," Logan insisted gruffly, watching you try to pick up clothes for laundry. He worded it more like a demand than offer, he didn't like how you were bending over so often.

"I got it, Logan, really," your stubbornness insisted you could handle it, but he had his doubts. He could see your clear struggle, he could sense you were tired but you were so stubborn.

"Enough." he demanded and gently pulled you away from the laundry, his arms strong around you and easily maneuvering you around. He sat you down and pointed at you. "Stay." he ordered.

Logan brings you food, he doesn't cook a lot but he still tries. He gets help from Jean or Storm. But he's always the one to bring it to you. He displays a lot of instinctual habits by now, especially since you're showing more now. Something inside him just...triggers when he sees your swollen belly. When you walk around the mansion for some exercise, he is right there with you, his eyes scanning the halls and every single person around you.

He growls at people who come close, he is so insanely protective over you now. It shocks you the first time he about lunges at Scott when he asked you how far along you were. "Logan!" you watched your feral boyfriend literally snarling at Scott.

"Get your eye off her, slim." he hissed, his voice was venomous and mean. Scott was just as surprised, even for Logan he was acting much more aggressive. You pulled Logan along, muttering an apology to Scott along the way.

"Logan what the hell! He was just asking how far I was," you muttered, your bristled boyfriend still had an irritated expression. His nostrils flared as he looked down at you. "Easy...it's fine. He's gone, just relax..." you rubbed your hands over his chest, soothing him from his protective mode.

He piles you into the shared room you have, he gets you all settled on the bed and cozy, there are so many blankets and pillows there and they act as excellent support for your large belly. He makes sure you're as comfy as possible, he fusses a lot by grumbling and making sure you have enough blankets. "Keep the baby warm." he grunts at you, covering you with a blanket as if your baby will get cold.

Logan likes to lay close to your belly, he can hear the baby and smell the change you emit because of all the hormones. He hears the baby moving around too, he enjoys listening to his little one in there.

You end up bound to the bed for a while, your ankles were so swollen and you were weak as the pregnancy progressed. You relied on him and he was more than happy to comply. He rubs your swollen ankles and feet, leaning forward and letting his facial hair tickle your belly.

When you feel your hormones flare, you get emotional and worried about labor and birth, all the normal worries for a mother to be. Logan sits with you and lets you vent your worries, but he is also the voice of reason during your emotional episodes. He always reassured you, telling you it would be alright, he was here with you, and he'd never let anything happen to you.

When your little one does arrive, it will be the most protected baby on the planet, not only the baby, but you too. Like hell anyone will get the chance to harm you with Logan by your side.

Thanks for reading.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[thebestsetter]

He was born to be by your side. It was his greatest desire, what he was meant to do. It's like being next to you came naturally to him, and he can't even remember how his life was before he met you. But what he can remember are the days you both spent together. Ridiculous conversations that, somehow, made so much sense to the both of you. So random, but yet holding so much meaning.

You were both laughing so hard. Walking by the shore, hand in hand. The sunset painting the sky with red and orange. Beautiful. So, so beautiful.

"When we grow up, we'll have a house by the beach" you said, swinging your arms together

"Says who?"

"Says me!"

He grabs your sun hat and puts it on his head, earning a small "Hey!" from you.

"And then we'll buy a cotton candy machine and make lots of cotton candies." He completes your thought while taking the final bite of his popsickle. You clean the side of his mouth (which was all smudged from the cold treat) and smile.

"Yeah, we can do that too."

You used to talk about your future a lot. More than the average couple, actually. Sometimes, you both reunited at your favorite cafeteria just to talk about life. How it was gonna be. How was gonna be your life together.

"A caramello cappucino with apple pie and a mint and chocolate milkshake, please" you said, and just hearing his typical order coming out of your mouth made him smile. Somehow, knowing you memorized his order made him happier than he could put into words.

After he paid (of course, he can't let you pay for your snacks. What kind of man would he be?) you both went to sit on a table right beside a window (you always loved looking out a window while talking, and he knew that. He knew you like the back of his hand). And like you couldn't handle the sound of silence, you started talking (and he'd never complain about it: he loved hearing you talk)

"We can have 3 kids, how about that?"

"I don't like odd numbers. Why not 4?"

"4 is too much" you said, sticking your tongue out and frowning your eyebrows (you looked so cute) "We can have 2, if the problem is odd numbers"

"2 is too little" he argued, and then sighed jokingly "Okay, fine, we can have 3"

You smiled, taking a sip from your milkshake

"Maybe after the third one, we can consider having a fourth, if you'd like"

And you knew he wanted to. Of course he did. He wanted to form a big, happy family with you. He wanted his future to be by your side. He couldn't picture a future without you. Which is why it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all.

"What's your favorite color? Mines yellow"

It hurts. He hates this. He hates this shit so freaking much. His heart feels like it's breaking, and his lungs are gasping for air. He can't look at his date without feelong absolutely sick, like he could literally throw up at the very moment. He can't help but think of you. How you were already talking about how many kids you'd like, and now he's back on the "knowing each other stage". It was so strange not seeing you.

"I'm sorry, please excuse me"

He can't spend a single minute here anymore. He's on the verge of dying, he's sure. And as if his body already knows exactly what makes him feel better, his feet take him to your house without him realizing.

His hand hovers upon the door, ready to knock on it. Life without you is meaningless. He needs you. He loves you. He loves you so fucking much.

"HHAHAHA Stop it!! Love, I swear, tickle me one more time and I will... HAHAHAHA"

He lowers his hand and walks away.

He loves you, that's why he's letting you go. He needs to let you go for your own good. You need to get over him (even though he's sure he'll never get over you)

He can't do this to you. Not when your new boyfriend treats you so well. Not when he fucked everything up. Not when he was the reason why you two broke up. He doesn't deserve you. He always knew you were too good for him. But now, he's doing you this favour to repay you for all the times you helped him. He's not going to disturb you.

Well, back to the talking stage, it seems.

GOJO SATORU, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, CHOSO KAMO, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, TSUKISHIMA KEI, Kageyama Tobio, Oikawa Tooru, KUROO TETSURO, TODOROKI SHOTO, Bakugou Katsuki, Aizawa Shota (kinda???), SHINSOU HITOSHI, RIN ITOSHI, SAE ITOSHI, BACHIRA MEGURU, Chigiri Hyoma, KUNIGAMI RENSUKE, REO MIKAGE + any character you think fits this!!

~ A/N: not proofread!!

Masterlist

[waitingonher]

ALL DA LADIES LUV LEO! — [leo valdez dating headcanons]

author's note: i am ladies. where's my irl leo...wtf.

you and LEO VALDEZ are the definition of “if you do it, i’ll do it.” (a VERY common phrase in your relationship)

istg this guy is down to do ANYTHING. you wanna play dress-up and do his makeup? go ahead. you wanna participate in some cheesy couple trend? of course! he’d do anything to make you happy <3 (even if it means ruining his dignity) 

leo has so much love for you, and he is NOT afraid to show it. he for sure owns a million different variations of the “i ❤️my girlfriend” tee-shirt. he’s worn them so much that even chiron and mr. d stopped pestering him for not wearing the chb shirt 😭 

y’know that one topic you could talk about for hours on end? yeah, well you’re the topic leo could talk about for hours on end. you always feel bad for the unfortunate new camper who decides to ask “who’s on your shirt?” it always ends in them making an excuse to get out of the conversation. 

some may say he’s obsessed…i just call it the bare minimum!! 🤗

leo absolutely LIVES for your little gossip sessions. he’s not one of those bf’s who will try to give actual advice on how to handle the situation,, he’s the type to fully shit talk the person with you 😭 you guys are literally the “she’s also ugly…” audio and i know for a fact you guys have made a video using it LMFAO

he also has the entire timeline memorized. he could tell you exactly what month, what day, and what time so and so wronged you if you asked 😭 leo’s absolutely invested and will ask for updates every so often. 

considering how leo spends so much of his time in bunker 9, it’s almost your second home at this point. you can’t even begin to count how many times you’ve fallen asleep sitting with him as he’s worked on a project. but leo always carries you to bed! there’s no way he could allow his girlfriend to wake up with a sore neck! 

speaking of bunker 9, leo keeps a bulletin board full of photos with you and all your friends next to his workbench! when working on a particularly hard project, he’ll look over at the photos for some motivation. 

there’s nothing better than successfully convincing leo to come to bed, especially during those cold winter nights. he’s basically a big heater that can walk and talk. and leo’s super duper big on cuddling so it’s even better. why invest in a heater when you have him? 

LMFAO it’s so funny when it’s summer and he’s basically on his knees begging for cuddles 😭 it’s only then that he curses his strangely high body temperature.  

i also think it’s canon that leo’s a good cook…?? so you’re always eating good with him!! he just loves seeing your reaction to his food, especially when it’s your cultural food. leo knows how important it is to you and to know he could provide some semblance of what you grew up with, it makes him beyond happy. 

when you give him hugs from behind while he’s cooking >>> 

he melts every single time.

omg. breakfast in bed with leo. him shirtless wearing an apron that says “kiss the cook” while bringing you a plate with all your favorite breakfast foods <33 

pda king 🙏🙏 he loves pda, but not in the gross, obnoxious way. leo’s obviously smart enough to know when it’s the right time and place. 

he’s also really big on “splitting the pole” LMFAO 😭 if you’re walking down the street and a street sign is in the way he will literally pull you to his side while screaming, “don’t split the pole!” babes…it’s not that serious 🤒

his love languages are words of affirmations and acts of service. there’s nothing better than coming home to cuddle with you as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear after a long day. he really values all your thoughts and opinions, so it means so much to him when you say these things. 

when it comes to you, leo’s so incredibly supportive with everything you do. the minute you even slightly hint about picking up a new hobby, he’s already encouraging you to do it. 

he gets so upset when he gets those “these initials are soulmates” videos and your initials aren’t together 😭 one time you woke up to an entire essay-length text from him explaining why you two are extremely compatible in response to a video that said “these initials aren’t compatible” 

leo’s VERY attentive, especially when it comes to you. at this point, it’s like he knows you better than you know yourself. he always knows what you’re gonna say simply by your reaction. his brain literally goes “oh her right eyebrow raised slightly, i think she likes it!” and he ends up being right too.. 😭

or when he goes shopping without you and he sees something he thinks you’d like, and it ends up being something you’ve been wanting for the past few weeks?? at this point he might be reading your mind…

this also makes him the best gift giver ever! it could’ve been something you barely mentioned before bed, but he made a point to remember it and surprises you with it. 

he also likes to make you little gadgets that you never would’ve even thought of but are so helpful. one day you walk into your bathroom and leo’s sitting there polishing his newest project, and he tells you it’s a towel heater he made for you??? 

leo absolutely loves your family and will do everything in his power to build a close relationship with them. he knows how happy it makes you and he also just genuinely enjoys their company too! ooh and if you have siblings, especially if they’re younger, he just adores them to death…UGH he’s so so good with kids. 

whenever he buys you flowers, he also buys some for your mom too!! and considering his mechanic skills, he loves to work with your dad with his car/whatever needs fixing around the house  😭😭 your parents basically treat him like their own son and leo feels so incredibly lucky to have you guys in his life. 

this guy’s your #1 hype man + your personal tripod. when he’s taking your picture he’s literally screaming compliments behind the camera while suggesting poses for you to do 😭 he’s just so silly like that! and then when you post it, he’s up in the comments like “i took these where’s my credit  🤨🤨” 

you guys are at each other’s cabins so often that no one’s ever fazed when you’re at the door. they’re just like “who’s at the door?” “just y/n again.” 

and his siblings absolutely love you to death. they see how happy you make him and they love you for it. but they’re also strangely protective of you too. when you and leo get into those rare arguments they’re always like “what’d you do this time  🤨?” to him LMAO 

ugh but your younger siblings and his younger siblings all look up to you guys like you’re the pinnacle of love. it’s genuinely so sweet,, they always talk about how they want a relationship like you two when they’re older 

dancing in the refrigerator light but in bunker 9 under his workbench light.

i like to believe that leo always has music playing when he works, so when a good dancing song comes on, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing to dance with you. 

sometimes it’ll be a song where you guys are just silently slow dancing together or it’s a song that has you two jumping up and down going crazy. the duality of his playlist! 

i just KNOW that at some point in your relationship, leo makes you a promise ring gjkdslfsl and i bet the stone has some sort of significance to you guys.

sometimes when you can’t wear it on your finger, you’ll string it onto your chb necklace and he just gets so giddy knowing that you care that much about it 😣

SPEAKING THROUGH MORSE CODE WITH HIM?? specifically when you’re in bed, both are too tired to talk, so you feel him tap “i love you” against your skin and you send the message back. 

can we all collectively agree that leo is like the most perfect boyfriend ever?? 😍😍 thanks!

[garfield-mug]

Can I request a Bob blurb? Maybe he has a really hot girlfriend and nobody believes him until they meet her? You can do whatever you want with this!

A/N: for the purposes of this story, the daggers are permanently stationed in san diego. idk if this really fits the request, but i look at bob and immediately think that man can dance, so....

also, the squad gives bob a bit of a hard time in this one, but i promise they love each other lmao and the length of this may have gotten away from me, but i had fun, so it's okay lol and this isn't proofread bc i'm tired so excuse any spelling errors (i'll stop talking now byeee!)

(p.s. see if you can spot the movie reference, 10 bonus points to whoever points it out)

Word Count: 2.2k

Content Warnings: none unless you don't like dancing ;)

Cheek to Cheek

Bob knew he wasn't really a "ladies' man." He was rather quiet and reserved, keeping to himself most of the time. He wasn't cocksure and forward, like Jake. He wasn't a goofy, shameless flirt, like Bradley. He didn't consider himself shy; he wasn't afraid to engage in conversation or make friends. Bob just preferred to sit back and observe. He liked to watch and listen, getting a good read of every room he walked into. Watching and listening was how he noticed you.

You were a sight to behold. Bob reasoned that you had to be new to the club because he would've noticed you before.

Bob doesn't get much downtime, but when he does, he likes to spend it at the San Diego Swing Dance Club. Since he was little, Bob loved to dance. He remembers his mother teaching him a basic waltz when he was about seven. Gliding and twirling around the living room on top of his ma's feet are some of his fondest memories. He started ballroom classes when he was around twelve (he wanted to impress his date to his very first dance) and fell even more in love with the art. His repertoire grew and grew, having meticulously memorized different styles (paso doble was his favorite). He still loved dancing as he grew older, able to turn on the charm as easy as he knew the moves. He loved the way dancing made him feel. Bob never felt more free than when he was drifting about the dancefloor, leading his partner. He thought it was the closest you could get to flying while staying on the ground.

That's why, when he noticed you, he knew he had to have a dance. Thankfully, his regular partner, Julie, understood and agreed to the switch for the night (she was a great wingwoman). For as often as he was in his head, Bob usually never got nervous. He was nervous approaching you. He remembers it like it was yesterday. It was Lindy Hop night and you were wearing grey striped slacks, a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, and an old, beat up pair of white slip-on vans. He was in his usual button down and slacks. One look at you and he knew he was a goner. You looked a bit disheveled, hair haphazardly put up and out of your face, making small talk with a few other members of the group. He thought you looked ever so slightly out of place and that it was so, so endearing.

Eventually, he worked up the courage to ask you for a dance. It did take more than a few pep talks from Julie to get him to go over to you, but she didn't have to literally drag him there, so it was a success. He asked for a dance, holding out his hand. You said yes.

One dance turned into two, then three, and eventually you'd danced the whole night away. You'd exchanged numbers before going home and then you weren't just meeting once a week at the dance club. You were making time to see each other whenever possible. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. It had now been six months since you and Bob made it official and you couldn't be happier.

Now, it made sense with his job and his general personality why the rest of the Dagger Squad hadn't known about you. They'd had conversations about their love lives often, but Bob had never really volunteered much information. You two had a good thing going and he liked to keep good things to himself for a while. Plus, the conversation rarely ever got turned his way. Bob was... very unassuming. The rest of the squad, except for Nat, never really inquired much about Bob's love life. It's not like Bob was purposely keeping you from his friends— it just never really came up. Nat was the only one who knew Bob was seeing someone and she was keeping it close to her chest out of respect for her friend and WSO, but also in the event that it spawned a bet. A bet she would surely win.

Eventually, one evening at the Hard Deck, the Daggers were all discussing their love lives once again. Mickey turned to Bob and asked if he was seeing anyone.

"I am, actually." Bob felt 5 more pairs of eyes snap to him, a collective "what?!" buzzing in the air at their inquisitive looks.

"You're seeing someone?" Jake asked, partially stunned. Bob wasn't offended, he knew he presented as a bit of a wallflower, and he was okay with that.

"What, you jealous, Bagman?" Bradley couldn't help himself. Jake's gaze snapped to the other aviator, challenging. Despite them both being on... better terms after the uranium mission, they still liked to jab at each other. Jake was usually better at it— slow, persistent needling while keeping a calm and collected facade. Bradley was more direct, favoring an immediate reaction over slow buildup.

Before Jake could respond, Bob cut in, turning the focus back to him.

"Matter of fact, I am," He sat a little straighter, dusting his pants of remnants of the peanuts he was snacking on. Natasha took a swig from her beer to hide the sly grin that was threatening to break across her face.

"Romantically? You're seeing someone romantically?" Reuben questioned.

"Sure am." Bob pushed his glasses further up his nose. He was thinking about you and how he wished you'd been able to come out tonight. You had talked to Bob about coming by to meet his friends, but scheduling conflicts always arose.

"What's her name?" Mickey asked.

"What's she look like?" Nat played into it, ignoring the pointed look Bob shot her way. He was still thinking of you, particularly about how darling you looked when you writhed underneath him, but they didn't need to know about that. Instead, Bob refocused, a dreamy smile taking over his features and a rosy blush creeping up his neck, landing on his cheeks. He couldn't help but look at the ground for a few moments, then he relayed your name. It felt so natural falling from his lips. The squad was eager for more information.

"She's just... perfect. She's smart and funny and so, so beautiful. She's got these eyes that just... and her smile?" Bob sighs, he actually sighs.

"I don't buy it." Jake is the first to burst the bubble. "I mean, we ask you what she looks like and all you give us is "oh, her eyes, her smile"? No way," Jake throws back the rest of his drink. Mickey and Reuben nod, signaling their agreement. Natasha smiles devilishly to no one but herself.

"C'mon, Bagman, he's clearly telling the truth. I mean, look at him. He's actually lovesick." Bradley chimes in. He knows what a man in love looks like.

"Yeah, it's kind of disgusting," Javy pipes up, firmly siding with Bradley.

"Well boys," Nat claps Bob on the shoulder. "Looks like we have a bet on our hands." She watches the men around the high-top table, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hundred dollars in the pot says Bob's mystery girl is real. You in?"

Nat pulls out five twenty dollar bills, placing them in the middle of the table. Bob watches in amusement.

"Steep price, Natty, but I'll bite." Jake throws his wager in as well.

Eventually, everyone put some money in the pot, much to Nat's satisfaction, even if she would have to split the prize money.

"Alright, alright... When and where can we meet your lovely lady?" Jake asks Bob, who is glancing down at his watch.

"Uhh, this Thursday at the San Diego Swing Dance Club. Seven-thirty, sharp. Wear something nice, but comfortable." With that, Bob was throwing on his jacket and out the door, headed home to see you. He wouldn't have left so abruptly, but you'd sent him a text and he wasn't going to keep you waiting.

The Daggers were even more perplexed. Well, all except for Nat, but the rest didn't need to know about it.

"San Diego Swing Dance Club?" Reuben was taken aback. Jake was thoroughly amused.

"Oh I have got to see this now."

-

The week flew by, and eventually it was Thursday evening. You were excited to finally meet Bob's friends, he talked about them so often. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a bit nervous, fretting over your outfit and hair more than usual, not to mention your makeup.

"Babydoll, you'll look beautiful no matter what you choose." Bob had been sitting on your bed for the better part of an hour now, as you agonized over your outfit choice.

You sighed, coming to sit next to him. "I just want to make a good first impression." You rest your head on his shoulder.

"I promise they'll like you no matter what you wear." Bob presses a kiss to your temple. You take a deep breath and close your eyes.

"I'll go with the plaid pants then."

Bob huffs out a laugh, "Alright, baby."

-

The Daggers arrived at seven-thirty, sharp. Just like Bob had told them. Nat sent Bob a text, letting him know that they'd arrived. He excused himself from the group to collect the rest of his friends. He was excited, happy to share one of his passions with the people he called friends. He was also happy to finally introduce his girl to the rest of his friends. Bob made his way over to the rest of the squad, clustered awkwardly by the main entrance of the dance hall.

"Glad you could make it!" Bob pulls Natasha in for a hug and greets the rest of the guys in a similar fashion.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Bobby." Jake says, eyes sweeping the room for a lady to take home for the night. Bradley and Javy were doing the same. Mickey and Reuben had brought partners for the evening— a double date.

The group fell into their usual rhythm, easy conversation and a few friendly jabs here and there. Almost forgetting the reason why they were there. Almost. Jake was just about to bring up the fact that they still had yet to meet Bob's mystery girl, when the intro to Thurston Harris' Little Bitty Pretty One started playing from the bandstand. It was jive night, which just so happened to be your favorite. Scanning the crowd, your eyes found Bob talking with his friends. 'Well, it's now or never,' you thought, and you were beelining towards your boyfriend so you could make it onto the floor for the first dance. Bob was just telling Nat about this new recipe he tried out for dinner when he felt a tug on his arm. He turned to look at you and smiled.

"Bobby c'mon, can't miss the first dance!"

He looked back at his friends, "Be right back," and Bob was off to the dancefloor with you. The Daggers watched as he whisked you away, stepping into a seamless jive. You felt like you were positively flying, floating through the air, feet touching every cloud. The way you and Bob danced together was something special. You could read each other in a way most dance partners wished they could. Feeling the music, keeping in time with the rhythm, anticipating and adapting to every move the other made. Improvisation was the purest form of art, the amount of trust placed in your partner is unlike anything else. You and Bob had something special, there was no denying that, especially as you were twirling across the floor.

"Who knew he could move like that?" Javy had to pick his jaw up off the floor.

"They make it look so effortless," Reuben looked utterly amazed.

Jake had to admit, he was impressed. Game recognizes game and damn it, Bob Floyd had game. It really was always the quiet ones. You were pretty, and you seemed fun. You seemed like you'd be good for Bob, even though they hadn't technically met you yet. Jake couldn't even be mad that he'd lost the bet. What he needed now was to learn how to dance like Bob because apparently, that was a great way to meet a lady. You and Bob were out of breath when you rejoined the group, introductions going a smooth as ever. You like the squad and the squad liked you. By the end of the night, you and Bob had shown everyone how to do a basic jive. Reuben, Mickey, and Javy caught on quickly, feeling comfortable enough to join the people out on the main floor. Bradley and Jake needed... help. Nat was managing, wanting a bit more time to figure the steps out before trying them on the floor.

Before everyone knew it, it was ten o'clock and the band was saying goodnight. You and Bob were saying your goodbyes, ready to head home. Once you and him were out the door, Natasha turned to Bradley and Javy.

"Alright, we split this three ways and make sure to absolutely rub it in Jake's face." Nat divvies up the cash and Bradley and Javy take their cuts. Javy gives a curt nod and a smile before walking to his car.

Bradley turns to Natasha. "Can I walk you to your car?" He offers his arm.

"Sure," Nat smiles and accepts.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Freaky Fred

(WARNING! This analysis is... NAUGHTY!)

Hello dear reader, this is Fred.

You hear the words that are in his head.

To Courage the dog he is a threat,

because he’s very… naughty.

In Courage the Cowardly Dog, you see,

Fred appeared and definitely

left a mark on you and me

by being very... naughty.

So let's take a look at this creepy man,

and hopefully you'll understand

why this guy has garnered tons of fans

despite him being... naughty.

Motivation/Goals:

Fred’s a man of simple needs.

He wants to cut hair, indeed!

And his efforts would likely succeed

if he weren’t so… naughty.

He has a compulsion, you know.

He sees hair and it’s time to go!

And so he spends the\is episode of the show

being very naughty.

Performance: Paul Schoeffler is the man, you know!

He voiced Le Quack, Katz and Big Toe!

The Cajun Fox, Zalost, the Snowman, oh,

he played characters who were… naughty.

He was quite good at what he had to do,

even playing Dr. Vindaloo!

And he played our boy Fred, it’s true,

with a performance that was… quite naughty.

Final Fate: After shaving Courage’s hair,

the orderlies escort him out of there.

One could argue the ending’s unfair.

Fred was only… a little naughty.

Evilness: Is Fred evil? Who can say?

I certainly don’t see him that way.

Really, at the end of the day,

the worst you can call him is… naughty.

He shaves off hair against people’s will

because it gives him perverted thrills.

He doesn’t maim or harm or kill,

he’s genuinely just naughty.

So I suppose a 1.5/10’s the score.

I can’t really justify much more.

He’s not cruel or deadly to the core,

he’s a weird guy who’s naughty.

Best Quote: The opening lines of his sole appearance of course,

which he delivers with no remorse

as he outlines his action’s course

and explains that he is… NAUGHTY:

“Hello, new friend. My name is Fred.

The words you hear are in my head.

I say, I said my name is Fred,

and I've been... very naughty.”

Final Thoughts & Score: Alright, time to drop the rhyming act so I can actually really talk about Fred. And boy, is he ever interesting to talk about! Courage is really a cavalcade of amazing one-shot antagonists, but Fred is easily one of the best and most memorable.

A huge part of that is probably down to his single appearance being narrated from his point of view. He’s the rare Courage villain that gives us explicit insight to his thought process and why he does what he does, and what he does is… extremely strange and even suggestive. His compulsion is so strange and how he narrates it and refers to his actions really build him up to feel worse and creepier than he actually is. He’s not trying to hurt Courage in any way, he’s just trying to exercise his bizarre fetish like a G-rated Yoshikage Kira. There's a lot of ways you could read into this compulsion, but t really does make him stand out as a character due to how unique it is and how it's implemented into the story.

I think what also helps is Schoeffler giving one of his best performances on the show. Like yes, Katz and Le Quack are great, and Vindaloo is a funny meme man, but Fred is just a truly iconic character with such a bombastic and sophisticated narration that I really think he’s a contender for the best character the man played. On top of that we have a fantastic design, with his crazy hair and way-too-wide grin; literally every aspect of this guy is perfect.

But at the end of it all, you have to remember that Fred isn’t actually evil, no matter how much he seems to insist he is. At worst, he’s an anti-villain, and even then it’s in name only; the dude is just a freaky weirdo who looks like Betelgeuse and has a strange fetish he can’t help but act out on, and at worst his actions are annoying and inconvenient as opposed to horribly destructive or deadly. Like, oh no, your hair’s gone! It’ll grow back, whatever. He may be Sweeney Todd for kids, but this barber ain’t a demon; he’s just a fucking weirdo. And I love him for it.

A 9.5/10 is the score he gets,

A memorable antagonist, one of the best.

His narration will never leave your head,

and isn’t that just…

NAUGHTY?

[danaewrites]

Helmet Over Heels

part iii: harder to hide than i thought

din djarin x reader // read it on AO3

word count: 4.2k

summary:  When your path literally collides with a beskar-covered Mandalorian one night, neither of you expect how that meeting will irreversibly change the trajectory of your lives. 

You’re pulled into his powerful orbit, agreeing to take care of his son in exchange for adventure and freedom– when he’s not off hunting bounties and inadvertently saving villages in need, that is. It’s the perfect plan. Or it would be, if only your quiet crush on the man would stop growing into something more with every hour you spend together. There’s no way he’d ever feel the same, right?

And Din? Well, he’s been trying (and failing) to convince himself that he’s not completely helmet over heels for you since day one. But a Mandalorian can only repress his emotions for so long…

(This fic takes place sometime after Season 2. Din’s back on his bounty-hunting business with a Razor Crest that was never destroyed and an adorable green sidekick who won’t stop chewing on its wires.)

tags: strangers to friends to lovers, slow-ish burn, nicknames, touch-starved din djarin and fem!reader, canon-compliant through season 2 and then Jesus takes the wheel :P

author's notes:

the first part of this chapter is very much inspired by Space Song by Beach House. imagining the pretty lights of hyperspace instead of the slope fields i’m working on in calculus has kept me sane, so hopefully you beautiful readers have as much fun with that as i did!

read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v coming soon!

You slowly stirred to consciousness, face scrunching up at the heat of the sun on your face. Memories flowed back to you in disjointed flashes, slowly piecing together the setting of your current prone, relaxed state.

You’d spent the night mesmerized by the bright lights of hyperspace that lit up the darkness beyond the ship’s windows, fighting the sleep that threatened to lower your eyelids. You tried your best to remain quiet and allow Mando to pilot you through the galaxy in peace, but you couldn’t help the gasp that slipped out when the white beams momentarily faded into pastel shades of lilac and chartreuse. His helmet snapped sharply towards you at the sudden noise, tensed shoulders only relaxing once he saw the awed expression on your face. 

“You haven’t seen this before?” He sounded surprised, and for a moment you felt embarrassment twist in your stomach at your lack of travel experience. He sighed, baritone turning low and thoughtful. “Come here.” He gestured for you to lean closer to him, directing your attention to a small cluster of dots on the navigation holoscreen.

“We’re passing through the Cresser Nebula. The original star died too recently for the dust to fully disperse,” he explained. “The extra material makes the hyperspace tunnel thinner for a moment– those colors are the new stars forming outside of it in the leftover gas.” He spoke with an unexpected patience, and you wondered whether he’d learned it from attempting to teach Grogu. In your experience, trying to keep the green baby’s focus for longer than a minute was a constant challenge. 

You’d hung onto his careful speech, memorizing every detail as he continued his quiet tour of the cosmos. It was the first time you’d ever truly heard about the intricacies of space; your overwhelming focus on surviving Nath’s harsh environment generally took up any extra time you could’ve used to learn about the rest of the galaxy. You didn’t intend to let a single lesson of his go to waste, not when you were finally free to hear them. 

You snuck a glance at the reflection of his silver helmet in the arched window, admiring how the lights shimmered across the beskar. You wondered what he was looking at beneath the metal mask: the pretty blur of hyperspace, his blinking console, or maybe the tiny lever where Grogu’s ball rested? There was just so much to watch, from the endlessly flickering radar screen to the breathtaking display of deep space beyond the glass paneling. You didn’t think you’d ever get sick of the view; you’d stay on his ship for the rest of your life if it meant you could enjoy the peace of hyperspace every night. Despite your pondering, his visor gave nothing away, and you forced yourself to pull your eyes away before he caught you staring. 

The quiet rhythm of his steady, modulated breaths beside you only added to the calmness that settled into your fatigued bones. Eventually, your exhausted brain must have shuttled you away to dreamland somewhere in the trance of hyperspace. Maybe you had been more tired than you thought, because you certainly didn’t remember bringing a blanket this comfortable back to your seat. You were wrapped in something thick and warm, a soothing contrast to the cool leather beneath your thighs. 

A tiny sigh found its way out of your mouth as you pressed your face into the soft fabric, shielding yourself from the daylight before you were forced to face reality once again. Stars, but it was lovely. The faint smell of woodsmoke and vetiver and something mechanical—blaster grease, maybe—enveloped you as you melted into the cloth, overwhelmingly reminded of days spent playing in your family’s workshop back on Odala. You’d forgotten so much of what life was back then, simple and joyful, but this tiny luxury of sensation brought back some of those precious memories. 

A quiet inhalation echoed from above you and your eyes snapped open. You jolted up from the cool leather of the passenger seat to see Mando paused mid-step before you, helmet tilted towards where you had snuggled into the blanket. You looked down to see that the blanket was not a blanket at all; it was, in fact, his own deep grey cloak that you were clutching like it was your child. Your face flamed and you quickly relaxed your grip, awkwardly smoothing out the areas where your hands had wrinkled the charcoal fabric. 

Had he given you the cloak? You didn’t think you had a habit of sleepwalking, and there was no way he’d have been unaware of you somehow snatching it in the night. Grogu was still wherever he’d been dropped off, so his shenanigans couldn’t have been involved. That left the most logical option– that Mando had been the one to settle the soft fabric against you in the darkness of the cockpit. 

You felt your cheeks flush again, this time from acknowledgement of the unexpectedly thoughtful action. You knew that following the temptation of that warm feeling led to nothing but danger. You couldn’t risk messing up the best thing that’d happened to you since you escaped your ruined homeworld, but… it’d been so long since anyone tried to take care of you, even with a gesture that small. Your traitorous heart beat a little faster at the thought. 

“I— have you been awake long?” You spoke sheepishly, hoping to distract him from the messy tangles in your hair and the redness left on your cheek from being pressed into the seat all night. You were sure you looked ridiculous, though the Mandalorian appeared perfectly polished as usual. The mud and soot from the previous day’s activities had been scrubbed from his armor, replaced with a subtle shine. 

“No.” He dragged his glance away, moving past you to flip a series of switches above the pilot’s seat. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, feeling the Crest settle onto the ground with a muffled thunk. You opened your eyes to find that the sunlit clouds of the atmosphere had disappeared, in its place an arid desert with a bright metropolis of a city on the horizon. The planet’s name was Nevarro; according to the navscreen, it was located in the Outer Rim. You had landed near its titular city, an old trading stop and the location of the Bounty Guild’s main headquarters. 

“The kid’s been staying with some old friends here. Sent them a comm that I’d be coming today,” Mando said as he straightened from his position crouched over the controls. 

You nodded, tugging your shirt down from where it had risen up over your abdomen when you slept. A frown creased your forehead as you stared at the worn piece of fabric. You hadn’t had the chance to retrieve the rest of your minimal wardrobe before leaving Nath– the swarm of angry citizens around your rental pod had made sure of that. If you were to survive the wide range of galactic temperatures while traveling with Mando, you’d definitely need a few more outfits. You made a mental note to persuade him to make a market detour before leaving the city. 

Mando opened the cockpit doors with a pressurized hiss, and you scrambled down the ladder after him. Your eyes wandered over the tidy hull of the ship, surprised at how neatly-kept it was now that you were seeing it in full light. It was bigger than you expected, too. There was enough space for a cramped but functional ‘fresher, tucked beside what appeared to be a bedroom. You caught a glimpse of a miniature hammock suspended across a corner of the small room. That must be where Grogu slept, if the little red sheet hanging off the edge was anything to go by. Beneath it, you noticed a set of dark, slightly-wrinkled blankets stretched across a lowered bed frame. 

Your eyes widened slightly as you realized that Mando must have slept there sometime after you passed out. It was oddly intimate, seeing proof that even the armored bounty hunter had human needs. At least, you assumed he was human, from his shape and voice. You’d spent longer than you’d willingly admit imagining what he might look under the layered beskar, eventually coming to the conclusion that a pair of green ears would definitely not fit under the helmet. The father and son didn’t appear to share any physical characteristics, and you wondered what their story was. Hopefully, you’d find out some of that information while taking care of Grogu.

Your attention focused back on the rest of the hull, eyes tracing the supplies stacked neatly by the net-lined walls with evident curiosity. Mando gestured to a dark set of doors by the ship’s entrance. “That’s the carbonite freezer. I’d suggest you stay away from those buttons, unless you want to travel like a bounty,” he warned. 

You eyed the area with trepidation and nodded. He seemed satisfied with your response, pressing another set of buttons until the boarding ramp lowered. “Behind the cockpit is the galley– it’s not much, but you’re welcome to use it.” 

You nodded again, relieved that you wouldn’t have to subsist on flavorless ration packets while traveling. Maybe you’d even have the time to experiment with a few new dishes– a luxury not afforded to you during your hectic hours at the cantina. “What are Grogu’s favorite foods?”

“Anything that hops,” the Mandalorian grumbled, tone quickly filling with exasperation. “He’s not picky when he’s on the ship, but take him outside for a minute and the kid’ll have eaten all the frogs in a damn parsec.” 

Your mouth quirked up as you imagined the little green child stuffing his face with whatever unfortunate amphibian dared to go near him. Like father, like son, you supposed. Those hunting skills had to be passed on somehow. 

“And you?”

Mando paused his descent onto the ramp, clearly caught off guard by your question.

“What meals do you prefer?” You clarified, mind wandering to all of the dinners you’d saved for him back at the cantina. You could never quite determine which he liked best, since the bowls were always scraped clean no matter what you put in them. You weren’t sure whether that said more about your ability as a chef or the lack of actual food aboard the Crest. “I’m more of a fresh fruit and vegetables person myself, we never got much of those back on Nath,” you admitted. 

He coughed, modulated voice rough with surprise. “I— whatever you make is fine.” You remained silent, fixing him with an expectant look. Men. 

He hesitated for a moment, then spoke, “I liked the spicy orange stew.” At your blank look, he continued. “With the little… bread pockets?” 

Your eyebrows raised at that, and you hummed thoughtfully as you remembered the dish he was talking about. “Oh– the napethsh curry!” 

That had definitely been one of your finer culinary moments. Your boss had brought in packets of rich, aromatic spice powder that morning for the day’s special– a rare, delicious find. You’d carefully shaken them into a savoury pot of sandgrain with the last of the sweet tubers, alternating between stirring the dish and flipping fried bread puffs on the pan next to it. Your eyes had fluttered shut in pure appreciation when you’d finally tasted your handiwork, and if Mando’s reaction had been at all similar— well, you couldn’t blame him for wanting more. 

“Spicy food, huh. I can work with that.” You beamed up at him, visions of fragrant curries dancing in your head as you followed him into the sandy landscape. You’d bet a fair amount of credits that a market on a desert planet like Nevarro would have no lack of spice vendors. If your haggling skills were up to par, Mando might get his wish granted faster than expected.

***

The Crest had landed within a reasonable distance of Nevarro, but when you finally reached the metropolis you felt as if you’d been walking for miles. It would take some time for you to get used to the feeling of intense heat on your skin instead of the bone-chilling Nathian winds. 

All your discomfort, however, was quickly forgotten as you entered the city. Terracotta buildings lined the narrow, twisting streets; each structure featured no less than four oval windows and was topped with a dome that curved to a sharply pointed apex. Vibrantly dyed clothes fluttered in the desert wind, carefully draped across thin lines of rope that criss-crossed over the alleyways. You watched as a group of laughing children weaved between the booths of haggling vendors in their pursuit of a hovering disc. It was noisy and cramped and reminded you so much of home that your breath caught in your chest.

You didn’t notice that you’d stopped walking until Mando called your name, breaking the spell the warm environment had put on you. Your gaze snapped up to see the beskar-clad man paused several paces in front of you. Kriff. Had you really been that lost in thought?

“Sorry, I– got distracted,” you offered sheepishly, almost tripping over a loose cobblestone in an effort to catch up. “Where are we headed?”

“There’s a school here, where the old Guild headquarters used to be.” Your armored companion adjusted something on his helmet, scanning the area before he motioned for you to follow him down a less-crowded street. “Don’t know whether the kid likes the lessons or stealing his classmates’ lunches more,” he grumbled under his breath. You gave a small chuckle at that, remembering Grogu’s endless attempts at sneaking a treat from the bar whenever your back was turned.

You stayed close to Mando as he led the way through Nevarro’s crooked streets, gawking at the liveliness that seemed to infect the entire town. People smiled at each other as they passed, shouting multilingual greetings from across the busy pathways. It was so very different from Nath, where the most interaction you’d get in a week outside of your work was a couple of suspicious glares from the old women selling fish on the street corners. You’d felt so isolated there, but here your mood was buoyed by the warm spirit that lit up each face you passed with a genuine expression. 

Mando stopped near the doorway of a round, sandy building on the edge of the town square. Despite the darkness of the clover-shaped entrance, you could still see the faint outlines of desks and hear the sound of excited children talking over each other. A tall man draped with a regal–looking cloak leaned against the school’s wall next to an imposing, muscular woman. His face brightened as Mando approached– something rather unusual, considering that most people were terrified that he’d been sent to capture them. 

“Karga,” the beskar-clad man in front of you acknowledged with a dip of his helmet. 

“Ah, that’s Magistrate Karga to you, Mando!” The dark-skinned man boomed jovially, stepping forward. “Things have changed since your last visit,” he continued. “Nevarro isn’t just a dusty pit stop anymore.” He spread his arm wide, gesturing to the bustling town square, and you privately agreed with his assessment. 

Mando gave a short nod, then shifted the conversation to more important matters. “Where’s the kid?”

“He should be finishing school any moment now–” Karga was interrupted by your excited gasp. 

“Hi, bug!” 

You stepped out from the tall Mandalorian’s shadow, beaming down at the little brown bundle speed-waddling towards you. You crouched down to his height and opened your arms, laughing at his excited babbling. “Yeah, I missed you too.” You were completely sincere, despite the teasing tone of your voice. The kid’s antics brought a lightness to your life that you didn’t know you needed until he came along. 

“Mando, you didn’t tell me you brought a friend!” Karga exclaimed, eyebrows raised high on his forehead. “And such a lovely one at that,” he continued, bending with a dramatic flourish of a bow. “Now you don’t have to call me Magistrate, just Greef will do,” he winked.

You were pretty sure Mando was rolling his eyes underneath his helmet, if his crossed arms were anything to go by, and you refrained from doing the same. You knew men like Karga back on Nath– charming and flirtatious, but only to the extent that it benefited their ambitions. You were more flattered by the thought that he’d deemed you important enough to impress than by his actual words. 

Still, you gave him a good-natured smile and introduced yourself as you bent down to pick up Grogu. “Your city is beautiful, I’ve never seen anything like it,” you complimented the Magistrate, holding in a laugh at the way his chest puffed up. 

“So how’d someone like you wind up with him?” The muscular woman beside him asked with blunt honesty, cocking her head towards the Mandalorian. She crossed her leather-bound arms, clearly interested in your response.

“Oh, I’m Grogu’s–” you paused, looking over at Mando as you tried to think of the right descriptor. You hadn’t exactly discussed job titles in the twelve hours you’d been employed by him, and you didn’t want to accidentally offend him by implying the wrong level of familiarity. And it wasn’t like you could just tell them you’d knocked his shiny butt into a snowbank, beginning a beautiful friendship of riding rainbow Mythosaurs into the sunset and exploding the occasional Tradoshan and/or cantina along the way. Although… the idea was rather tempting, if only to see how Mando would react.

“Caretaker,” the armored man finished for you, and you sent him a grateful look. The muscular woman next to him smirked, appraising you before extending her hand. 

“Cara Dune. Ex-Rebel-shocktrooper, current Marshal of Nevarro,” she introduced herself with a wink. You instantly liked her, despite the intimidating aura she exuded. Her frankness appealed to you— it was a welcome reprieve from the icy insincerity Nath’s citizens wrapped their hearts in, tighter than their winter cloaks. 

Karga rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Well now, Mando, we have some business to discuss. Marshal Dune will show your friend to the market, if you wouldn’t mind coming with me,” he spoke, gesturing to the tall, sloped capitol at the forefront of the plaza.

Mando remained where he stood, helmet tilting towards you. “Get her to the medcenter first. Have them take care of her face before anything else.” He instructed the Marshal. You winced as the unsightly gash across your cheekbone twinged, a reminder of why you were here in the first place. 

“Hmm. What’s in it for me?” She cocked an eyebrow at the armored man. “I’m a busy woman these days, I can’t always be making detours…”

“Dune,” he warned, tone supremely unimpressed. 

The dark-haired woman’s smug grin widened. “Yes, sir,” she spoke, raising her arm in a mockery of a salute. “Didn’t realize it was that serious.” She nudged your arm, giving you a knowing once-over as she walked past the beskar-plated man. “Alright, then. Medcenter it is.”

You turned to leave with her, but the cool press of beskar on your forearm paused you in your tracks. You angled your head up to meet Mando’s gaze– or at least, where you assumed his eyes were beneath the beskar– with a questioning look. He tilted his head toward the bustling streets and pressed a handful of credits into your palm. 

“Get whatever you need. We won’t be stopping at another market for a few weeks,” he instructed, and you nodded gratefully as you tucked them into a secure pocket of your tunic.

Suddenly, Grogu cooed, grabbing for the remaining credits glistening at the top of the pouch that hung from Mando’s belt. His unexpected movement caused you to stumble forward, just barely catching yourself as he slipped out of your arms. You frantically tried to regain your clutch on the child before he could scamper away, but Mando had already beaten you to it, holding him firmly in place on the cobblestone road.

To your surprise, the armored man crouched down and fixed his son with a rather intimidating head tilt. “Hey. Don’t do that again,” he warned the green toddler, who blinked up at him with guileless eyes. “You’re going to behave for her,” he reminded Grogu sternly. “Or no coloring book.” 

That did the trick. Grogu immediately turned to you, lower lip trembling and arms outstretched in repentance. You raised an eyebrow, but allowed him to climb back up into your embrace. Your mouth quirked to the side as you looked back up at Mando. 

“You still have the coloring book?” You asked, eyes crinkled with surprise. 

The Mandalorian scoffed. “It’s a miracle Karga was able to wrestle it from him before school.” 

Your lips curved into a delighted smile, pleased that you’d judged the kid’s artistic interest correctly. You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Well, I’m excited to see what he’s made,” you grinned up at the beskar-covered man. Your gaze lingered on him for a moment, watching the desert sun flicker across his helmet as Grogu nestled into your arms.

“Hey! You coming or what?” Both of your heads snapped to where Cara was standing at the end of the road, hands on her hips and a curious look on her face. You stammered out a sheepish apology and raced over, but when the Marshal’s attention was diverted, you couldn’t resist looking back at the silhouette of the armored man. You gave him a tiny wave, holding in a giggle at the way Grogu mimicked your action. 

The Mandalorian raised his gloved hand, subtly returning the gesture. You spun back to the street with a hidden smile.

***

As promised, Cara led you to the medcenter, where you waited for a nurse droid to patch your face up with a bacta kit. The building was unlike any you’d ever been in; light shone through stained–glass skylights onto the woven cushions where prospective patients rested, the scent of cinnamon and sanitizing solutions mixing to form an odd but not entirely unpleasant aroma in the air. 

“So, what’s the deal with you and Mando?”

“What?” Your confused expression made her lean back on her cushion with a lighthearted scoff. 

“Oh, come on. He doesn’t let just anybody stay around his kid. I had to fight off a damn Imperial invasion to get him to trust me,” she muttered, eyeing you. You blinked in surprise, then remembered that she’d been a Shocktrooper before Nevarro. Of course Mando would need someone with those terrifying skills in his line of work.

“So what’d you have to do? Rescue another alien child? Blow up a prison?”

“Something like that,” you muttered, letting Grogu toy with your fingers. The cantina wasn’t a prison, but explosives were definitely involved. You figured you were dancing on the right side of the truth.

Cara shook her head in mock exasperation. “Mandalorians. Always gotta be something with them.” She grinned, all teeth. “Good thing I like demolition.” 

You shot her a wry grin, opening your mouth to ask her how she’d wound up on Nevarro. Unfortunately, the droid chose that moment to spray you straight in the eyes with aerosolized sanitizer. You yelped in pain, scrambling to direct its robotic arm to the right location before you wound up needing bacta for more than one spot on your face. 

Once you’d finally gotten the droid under control and your treatment grudgingly paid for, you headed out to the market with directions from Cara– all previous questions forgotten in the stinging wake of the sanitizer. You’d parted with a promise to return with stories about your travels with Mando and the kid. Mostly, she wanted to know if there was any exciting conflict in the center of the galaxy that she could jump into. You had a feeling she wouldn’t stay as Nevarro’s Marshal for too long; you recognized the thirst for adventure that gleamed in her eyes all too well. 

Your time in the market was far too short, even though you’d spent the better part of a day there. You’d happily wandered through the streets, wonder etched into the lines of your face at the sheer variety of wares hawked at every turn. You’d trained yourself to be frugal, determined to buy only the essentials and save the rest for your future travels, but here even the barest necessities were crafted with care. 

Sweet, earthy jasmine soap that surrounded you with a peaceful aroma; impossibly soft textiles that shimmered enticingly in the sun; bittersweet fruit that melted into a soothing wave of liquid in your mouth. Nevarro was a land of plenty indeed, you mused as you pored over a vendor’s towering collection of cheese. 

You returned to the school as the sun sunk beneath the horizon, a drowsy green child on one arm and a basket of supplies on the other. You said your goodbyes to Karga and left, Mando’s bounty belt now four pucks heavier. The two of you ambled back to the ship in peaceful silence, Grogu asleep in your arms and the soft glow of the night lanterns glimmering on curved beskar. 

Unbeknownst to the bounty hunter, a tiny jar of dried nari peppers rested in your back pocket. It’d taken you ages to choose from the tables of spicy seasonings, but you finally decided on this one despite its exorbitant price. You planned to surprise him with it on some sort of special occasion– maybe a birthday, or a holiday. It had been too long since you’d had cause to celebrate anything, really, and you were determined to seize any little chance you could. Hm. Did either of your new roommates even have birthdays? You’d have to wrest that information out of Mando eventually. But for now, you were content to just walk next to him in the moonlight, city hubbub fading away into the quiet whisper of the sand.

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read on: part iv

[smytherines]

Hey, I saw that you were bored, and I am also bored, so have an ask! Your Owen headcanons are great, so I was wondering if you have any about Owen's interest in acting/theatre?

It's one of the things that's really interesting to me about his character, even though it only gets a brief mention in canon.

Sorry if you've answered something like this already!

Ooooooooo this is such a good ask

It's weird, because despite being a hardcore theatre kid myself (I spent ages 8-18 in a community theatre program doing 2 plays and a musical every year), I always tend to see Owen's interest in acting in relation to my autistic Owen headcanon, as allegorical instead of literal acting/theatre.

Although in my experience, masked autistic people make excellent actors because it's what we do all the time anyways- every social interaction is a performance. We finesse ways to deliver lines, body language, tone of voice. I have to physically stop myself from rocking or swaying. I say combinations of words I've memorized from TV, delivered in the style of whatever actor's delivery is most appealing to me. Before I was diagnosed I used to joke that I built my public personality around Lauren Graham's line deliveries in Gilmore Girls. (I also routinely quote that show in social interactions)

It's exhausting, but I can more or less be at a social event for a few hours and seem ~normal~ and then come home and fall apart. The only time I feel like I can really unmask is when I'm totally alone, and the more time I spend with others (even people I love and adore!) The more irritated I get, the more quickly I melt down, the less I'm able to keep up the "I'm totally normal" facade I've constructed.

Obviously I'm 1000% projecting onto this character, but that's kinda how I see Owen and how I write him. I mean he literally is masked for most of the show, the acting, the way he speaks and his body language changing based on who he's around and what he's doing, him putting on personas and playing characters, the specific way he speaks with his hands, the way he seems to fixate on certain interests and ideas and ideological positions, the way they emphasize his interest in details, just so much of that feels familiar to me.

I do think he probably would've enjoyed acting. It saved my life. I wouldn't have survived without learning how to be someone else, someone other people don't immediately reject. For a second I thought maybe he could've been involved in vaudeville as a teenager, like Cary Grant, but vaudeville was on its way out by the early 30s so that doesn't seem likely. He'd be too young for it.

But I imagine he really liked to read plays, even if he didn't necessarily have a way to act or to see theatre as a kid/young adult. I think in the chwm epilogue I wrote about him buying a used copy of Pygmalion (unless I deleted that in editing, I can't remember). I think he probably read a lot and listened to radio plays and listened to BBC News to perfect his respectable posh accent.

I've had a headcanon for awhile now that Curt and Owen used to have sneaky little late night movie dates, because they just both love movies so much. Curt loves the action and the fantasy, the heroics of 1950s cinema, probably westerns, war films, musicals. Owen likes noir, and sci-fi, and british kitchen sink social dramas (those might be a *bit* late for him but the precursors for that), and is fascinated with the mechanics of acting, picking things apart, like he almost sees it as research for their jobs.

That's mostly just because I love classic films from the 30s-60s and now any time I watch something that came out during their time period I find myself wondering how those characters would react to it.

To me, in my little headcanon, Owen Carvour meticulously built this image of the perfect dashing confident charming British spy. And eventually he meets Curt and he trusts Curt, he sees that they have these similar rough edges that they hide with arrogance and vanity, that they are both playing a role. Curt is the first person who more or less experiences the world the way Owen does- filtering out the unacceptable parts of themselves to get by.

Curt is the only person he ever feels safe even partially letting the act drop with. Not all the way, they could never be 100% vulnerable with each other like that. But enough that Owen feels... safe with Curt. Not just about their secret (although yes also that), but Curt is the only person Owen allows to see any vulnerability, any trace of who he really is. It's part of why what Curt does feels like such a betrayal, why Owen can't move past it. Because he had a relative safe harbor, one person on earth he trusted, and it nearly got him killed.

[xyzcekaden]

🕶 operation: m.e.e.t.c.u.t.e. 👓

by airauralintensity (aka me, xyzcekaden!)

memorable encounter explored through changed universes, totally excellent

fandom: codename: kids next door characters: lizzie devine, nigel uno ship: nizie genres: romance, comedy, fluff, pre-canon, first meeting, transfer student!lizzie, hero complex!nigel, nigel pov, mostly themes: paranoid!nigel, nigel asks first, literal schoolyard bullying, canon typical laws of physics, loosely inspired by operation holiday and stop the g:knd word count: 2.6k+ chapter: 1/3 rating: K+ for depictions of bullying

read it below, on ffnet, or on ao3!

~~~

A/N (1.11.2025): I can’t believe a kids' cartoon is what breaks my 2 year fanfic writing slump. All of this is sparkymouse’s fault. If they didn’t leave such a great comment on just another textbook case, none of this would have happened!!!

I didn’t rewatch every episode of C:KND, just the Lizzie ones. If anything I write contradicts canon (not that the show is overly preoccupied with canon to begin with, lol), then just read this like an AU, nbd. I deal in feels, not facts.

One-shots are in the order of ideation, nothing more particular than that. Chapter titles are from Soldier by the Backstreet Boys.

~~~

somebody shot you down

His working theory is that Lizzie is a disguised alien from a planet of sentient plants sent to monitor Earth’s children, and he just needs the proof.

~~~

“Class, settle down! I have an important announcement to make before homeroom ends!” Mrs. Thompson’s voice rings out above the chatter of fourth graders.

Nigel listens with half a mind as he draws up blueprints for the new scanner he wants to install in mission control. Projectiles smaller than a baseball are currently ignored by the treehouse’s security system, but the Teen Ninjas have started paintballing graffiti onto the tree trunk; and he wants that behaviour curtailed expeditiously.

Normally he’d use this time to chat with his teammates, but they’re all out this morning. Hoagie has food poisoning, Kuki’s got a family emergency, Wally is suspended, and Abby is on some personal candy mission. It’s just him today.

“We have a new student who’ll be joining us for the rest of the year! Please give a warm welcome to our newest classmate, Elizabeth Devine. Elizabeth, why don’t you go and tell us a little bit about yourself?”

He lazily tilts his head up to catch sight of the new girl—long auburn hair in twin braids framing a cherubic face, wide circle glasses framing wide brown eyes, wide frame in general. She doesn’t look like much; but then again, he thought the same of Kuki until he got to know her better.

“Hiii, everyone! I’m Lizzie, and I just turned 10,” she introduces with a voice that sits high in her throat. “I like watching romcoms with my sister and baking pies with my grandma.”

At least she’s American. She won’t have it as bad as he did when he transferred to Gallagher. In fact, he notices a group of girls in the class surround her table once Mrs. Thompson prompts her to sit; and the sound of eager gossip among them starts not too long after. Seems like she’ll be in good hands.

He doesn’t pay her any more attention for the rest of homeroom, and he more or less forgets about her entirely, too… until recess, that is.

While on his customary playground patrol (a routine he is well-equipped to handle even without the rest of his team), he catches sight of a group of kids where the fence meets the wall of the school. Curiosity propels him closer; to his knowledge, that corner of the playground has nothing there to play with.

He doesn’t want to unnecessarily get their attention, though. The point of recess is that kids can spend their time doing whatever they want in order to recharge and face the rest of the school day; so be it if these guys are choosing to spend their time over there. A few paces away, he makes the decision to just leave them be… but then he hears laughter.

It’s not the fun and happy laughter of a good joke; it’s meaner than that. It’s the laughter of bullies.

He lurks on the periphery of the group to observe the situation. Through the gaggle, he sees someone on the ground, but he can’t tell yet whether that person was pushed down.

“But I don’t understand,” a familiar voice pleads. “What was I doing wrong?”

“For crying out loud, girlie! You were eating dirt; do I really have to spell it out for ya?” the ringleader jeers.

Natural shifting of the crowd reveals none other than the new girl, Lizzie, as the center of attention. She’s lounged on the ground, hands trenched in the earth and legs neatly tucked to her side. There are grass stains on her blue skirt and a brown smudge on her cheek, too, lending even more credence to the absurd accusation that Nigel just heard.

Was she really eating dirt? he thinks to himself with slight disgust. That is, admittedly, very, very weird.

But for all that she essentially doomed herself to a lifetime of name-calling and ostracisation, she does not appear distressed at all. Her posture is lax and movements unhurried as she draws herself up to stand.

“Gee, I had no idea…” Her voice wobbles with innocence, and her eyes get impossibly more fawnish.

Nigel’s face hardens. He has to step in before she starts to cry.

“Absolutely no idea that THIS SCHOOL IS FULL OF NOSY BULLIES!!!”

Caught mid-stride, her volume forces him to take a step back. The bullies circling her get the brunt of it, though: the power of her decibels knocks them onto their butts, skidding in the dirt.

“How bored are you that you have to go around causing trouble where there isn’t any, huh!? Does it make you happy to pick on kids all by their lonesome? Kids who aren’t bothering anybody?? Only losers care too much about what other people are doing with their free time! Go touch some grass, why don’t ya!”

Kids flee left and right, but very few escape the wads of turf she throws after her aggressors. Her aim is erratic, but her power and frequency more than make up for it.

Just on the edge of the target zone, Nigel merely watches her defend herself with an eyebrow raised in interest. He believes he just got to know Lizzie better.

“Haven’t had enough yet, baldy?” she growls at him as he walks up to her.

“Trust me, I’ve had plenty; but I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I’d never join a ring of playground bullies like those guys.”

He stands in front of her with feet shoulder-width apart, arms crossed behind his back, and chin held high. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Nigel Uno; but when acting in my capacity as a Kids Next Door operative, I go by Numbuh One,” he says with a slight smirk. He’s not ignorant of the effect he tends to have on people between his position, his confidence, and his accent.

“‘The Kids Next Door’? What’s that?”

The smirk freezes on his face in an awkward way. The KND aims to save kids worldwide from adult tyranny, and no team was more prolific at that mission than Sector V. Based in America as Lizzie was, surely she should have heard of them. Has his team never saved her or her classmates from overpowered bullies, insane teachers, or gross school lunches before?

No matter; he was never one to pass over the chance to advocate for his cause. He passionately describes the mission, vision, and creed of the Kids Next Door; details the various perpetrators who stand against kids’ rights and privileges worldwide; and expounds upon the bonds and camaraderie that forms among operatives.

The only thing that stops him is the bell that signifies the end of recess.

Lizzie noticeably perks up at the sound, to Nigel’s mild embarrassment. “Well… All that being said, you should join us. The Kids Next Door is always on the lookout for promising youths to join our battle against adult tyranny. Extending recess by an extra 15 minutes is one of our long term goals,” he entices.

“That’s real sweet of you to offer, Nigel, but I’ll have to pass. See you in class!” She punctuates her dismissal with a smile and a wave before skipping off towards the school entrance.

He stares, flabbergasted enough to let her get a head start, but he quickly gets himself into gear. “W-W-Wait, are you sure?” he stutters as he catches up to her.

Nigel prides himself on his 100% success rate of recruiting hopefuls into the KND ever since he himself was scouted by Numbuh 5. He knows potential when he sees it, and he’s usually so good at galvanising that potential into action. What part of his impassioned spiel didn’t immediately appeal to her? Lizzie has moxie and gumption and spunk and—

“Yeah. I’m not interested, no offense; I’ve got other hobbies that need my time. I really appreciate the invite, though! Your club sounds like it would be the perfect fit for someone else, someone with way too much time on their hands or who has trouble making their own friends. You know the type. Anyway, good luck with recruitment!”

—absolutely no interest whatsoever. (Not to mention tact.)

He watches the school doors swing shut behind her, bewildered and a little bit offended. What kid would give up the opportunity to join the Kids Next Door?

Then the hamster wheel in his brain kicks into gear, and his eyes narrow.

Unless she isn’t a kid in the first place.

~~~

His working theory is that Lizzie is a disguised alien from a planet of sentient plants sent to monitor Earth’s children, and he just needs the proof.

There’s the alleged dirt thing, of course; but Nigel didn’t see that for himself. He tries tailing her during recess in case of a repeat performance, but she’s since started hanging out with some girls from class. They often gossip in the shade of a tree with branches whose strength he misjudged, and they did not appreciate it when he accidentally crashed onto the flower crowns they were in the process of making one afternoon.

(There is an errant thought about how the crown becomes her when she puts it on, but it is fleeting and ignored in favour of figuring out his next course of action.)

He almost caught her eating celery once during lunch—which is honestly no better than eating dirt and would have been surefire proof she was not a human child—but it turned out to be ants on a log. Just because he doesn’t think that’s a real snack doesn’t mean she’s forcing children to eat vegetables against their wills necessarily. Since then, Nigel’s been monitoring her lunch every day, cleverly taking samples when she wasn’t looking and searching for unknown contaminants hidden in her food that might indicate her true biological identity, but he had to stop after he made the mistake of actually trying one of her homemade meals. He was out of commission for three days after that.

(He can’t help but be impressed that she finishes every bite of her lunches, though. He’s always been jealous of kids who can eat whatever they want without getting sick; it’s almost like a superpower.)

She behaves strangely in class, too. Whenever someone uses an idiom, she has to ask the teacher what it means. On top of that, she actually takes notes and pays attention. That should be enough to make anyone suspicious, but she also doodles! By virtue of their last names, Nigel sits far enough behind her that he can surreptitiously examine her notebook with 2x4 technology (Glaring Ocular Gap Gadget Lets Entities See). The flower sequences she draws all over her notes are patterned in such a way that reminds him of code. He hasn’t quite cracked it yet, but he’s working on it.

(The most common flower has a blue center and yellow petals, which instantly brings to mind the shirts she always wears. It’s to the point where he can pick her out in any crowd by that fact alone.) (For surveillance, of course.)

As far as he’s concerned, he needs no further proof; but he knows his team. If he goes to Sector V with anything less than photographic evidence of Lizzie Devine’s alien heritage, they’ll make fun of him and his paranoia for weeks. He just has to keep observing her until he captures something on camera.

When he reviews the photos later at his locker, however, her eyes seem to take up more and more of the images’ focus.

“These are useless,” he mutters to himself.

“What’s useless?”

“Wah!”

He jerks away from the surprise voice, and the photos from the Long-range Orbit Observations Kaptured Only Using This fly into the air. He hastily grabs at them as they fall down before whirling around to find none other than the object of his investigation holding one that he missed.

“Hey, I look good in this!”

“Lizzie!” he screeches in embarrassment as he snatches the picture out of her hands. How is he going to explain this? “What are you doing here!?”

She crosses her arms and levels him with an unimpressed glare. “As of two weeks ago, I go to school here, Double-Oh-Seven.”

Nigel’s embarrassment is momentarily overshadowed by excitement. “Actually, my Numbuh is One,” he corrects eagerly, thinking this is her way of expressing interest in taking him up on his offer from all that time ago. He knew his sense for potential operatives wasn’t deteriorating! If she joined the KND, it would summarily lay all of his misgivings about her to rest!

“More like Number Dumb,” she scoffs, crashing his hopes again. “When you told me all about your little spy club, you made it sound like you were actually good at spying.”

“I’m one of the best there is!” he retorts with offense.

“That’s sad, then. I could tell you’ve been following me and my friends around for the last two weeks, and I’m actually here to tell you to knock it off. The other girls won’t keep hanging out with me if some loser with a crush is always there to weird them out.”

He blushes something fierce. “I’m not f-following you,” he stammers out. “I-I’m just… gathering valuable intelligence about areas where you happen to be.”

“I see. So this is for one of your missions?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, happy that the easy answer is the truth.

“Can you tell me about it?”

“I—Um. Am! I mean, I am… I am afraid that’s classified.”

“Oh, so I’m a suspect.”

“N-not necessarily.” His voice breaks as he deflects.

“Am I a target, then?”

“I’d be taking much better precautions if you were,” he swears.

She leans forward as she baits, “I’m not any kind of person of interest?”

He blinks. “I, uh, wouldn’t say that…”

She looks him up and down before raising her eyebrow. “For a James-Bond-wannabe, you sure are a bad liar.”

He’s actually a fantastic liar. Normally. He doesn’t know why it’s so hard now, though.

The longer it takes for him to think of something to say, the more amused she looks. She even smirks at him as she leans back.

This is nothing like he’s used to. He knows how to handle himself in front of threats to his safety or threats to other kids’ freedoms, but this? Whatever threat Lizzie poses is not one he has any defences against.

But let it never be said he ever backed down from a threat.

Just when he decides to stop letting her get to him, however, she rolls her eyes and sighs. “Let me make this easy on you, then. Do you know what a pinky promise is?”

“Of course I know what a pinky promise is,” he snaps.

She shrugs. “I just learned about them on Tuesday. Anyway. Ask me whatever question you want, and I pinky promise to answer it honestly.”

He gapes stupidly at her outstretched finger, offered way too lazily considering how vulnerable she’s making herself to him. Whatever internal conflict he was facing doesn’t matter now. He could learn anything about her: where she came from, what she’s doing here, whether she really eats dirt.

It’s a heady feeling.

He sees himself reaching out his own hand in slow motion, not fully cognisant or controlling of his own actions. Not until his skin touches hers.

“Are you free on Saturday?”

Instead of his pinky hooking around hers, his hand settles over her fist in entreaty. He hastily arranges his fingers into the correct orientation before meeting her eyes, and what he sees there makes him gulp.

The guarded look she always wore—the one he can only recognise now that it’s melting away—is replaced with a surprised delight, glittery and warm.

“I sure am.”

She giggles behind her other hand, and the sound wraps around his heart and squeezes a little too tight. If Lizzie really is a threat to the children of Earth, she’ll have to get through him first.

There is no one else he could allow to face her like this.

[mvshortcut]

My dude, you got any advice for writing action/escape scenes? Brain is empty right now. Absolutely dry; no creative juices (well, some creative juices; it’s really just this one specific part of the plot that I’m wrestling with)

Hooo boy I am by no means an expert of any sort and I'm still pretty new to this whole writing thing! Plus I've definitely been winging it on every action/fight scene I've written before. But I'm delighted to ramble about it - hopefully you might find something helpful in here!

My favorite solution to "brain is empty" is to take a shower. Literally it's a free chance to daydream about your plot (and get ideas!) while you shampoo your hair. Alternatively I like to put on fun music and move around, possibly act out the action/escape scene.

Or alternatively, the good ol' [Character Escapes] in brackets, keep writing, and come back to it another day.

Also if you have one really specific detail that you want to write but are drawing a blank on what comes before/after it - just write that one bit, really spend time with it, and have fun! Leave the rest for another day.

I've always felt the build-up is the most important part! It can help you increase the tension as well as bring in key details that will come back later during the action scene.

Setting! Even though action scenes are generally pretty fast-paced, it really helps ground it if you can describe a few memorable details sensory about your setting, and then have your characters interact with/use the setting during the action.

One thing I like to do is chunking (there might be a technical term for this but idk what it is lol). So basically I find that dividing the action scene up into chunks helps me tackle it better. It might help to think of each "chunk" as its own individual mini-scene. Like maybe the location changes, and that's a new "chunk," or maybe it's just the next "step" of the action scene. Either way, I like to go back and really tighten up each chunk - like, did I really ground this in the setting? Does this help me get to the next part? etc

Also related - pacing! This can be done with the events of the scene itself (how fast are they happening? how much time do you spend describing something?) and also your writing itself (do you use really choppy words and kinda harsh syllables to speed it up? what about punctuation - em dash my beloved). If the whole thing is too fast it can get confusing - it's good to vary slow and fast-paced bits. This is where the "chunking" can become helpful!

I find that reading it aloud (or even just in my head) helps me to understand the pacing and see where I might need to speed it up/slow it down

The last one that I find helpful is looking at power dynamics. So, let's say you have an escape scene. If the person escaping is waaaay overpowered by the people they're being tracked down by, it's gonna be pretty difficult to write an action scene that doesn't end in like 5 seconds with the person being caught! (This goes for like. person vs environment/nature/etc as well.) Basically I just look at the strengths/weaknesses of everyone involved and say, is this generally balanced enough so that the audience is scared for our protagonist, but it's reasonable to hope that they might escape? If someone is overpowered, is there an obstacle I could use that knocks them down a peg? Is there some hidden ability our protagonist might have that allows them to gain an advantage or outsmart their opponent?

Anyways this got super long; my apologies! Again I'm still new to this whole thing so try some stuff out and see what clicks for you!!

[fitzpirations]

Some thoughts on me seeing Days of Wine and Roses like,, almost a month ago now but I don't feel like editing it other than to add a few extra bits in bold & at the end. Overall, I really enjoyed it! Intrigued at what's next for the cast & crew, and if I could see it again/replicate my first viewing I probably would.

My thoughts, like film have developed and I am mostly out of a terribly weird headspace that I was unfortunately stricken w/ this weekend and I gotta say I loved Days of Wine and Roses.

~~~~~~~

I do think it’s perfect in the theatre it is right now & while I would LOVE for it’s actors to win very big awards for it and do believe they are due… for me a transfer is not the right move. Willing to debate on it! I think the story is important and unique and beautifully told but,, I also think the set/sound/lighting design @ Atlantic is special and can’t imagine it staged differently. It perfectly fits that space and needs that intimate of an audience, in my opinion.

anyway, this isn’t a full review & no one cares, but I’m so stoked with how things turned out & with my friend and I scoring great cancellation ticket seats & seat upgrades for a very cheap price and the fact that REDACTED who I adore was also there. my friend spoke to them while I blacked out- it was very neat. So embarrassed of myself for our post-show interactions that I’ve physically cringed and tensed up every time I think about it but! The show keeps replaying in my head and I’ve been thinking more and more about how it was told and listening to the demos and I just think how great is it to see a new piece of live theatre! I went in knowing a barebones plot (and purposely avoided real reviews, the demos, and the original movie) and was so happy to go on that ride. I do so so wish my mental health wasn’t being all finicky because I think I would’ve been all the more immersed in it but- nothing I can do about that. Luckily I didn’t say much of anything to the redacted actors in question, but my lack of interaction with one while my friend spoke to them and kept nudging me & my theatre equivalent of “good game” to the other will haunt me forever ❤️ my only consolation is I believe I wasn’t memorable in my presence & that maybe 1 day I’ll properly meet these people who I literally adore as a fellow creative. Wouldn’t that be nice. Until then, I will continue to beat myself up about it LOL. It’s so,,, I hasten to actually explain it more, but I feel about 3 feet tall thinking about it.

And did they drink ANY wine the whole time??? I’m very Kirsten in the first few scenes-coded in that I don’t drink and really never should be convinced to, haha. So I’m not super knowledgeable on names of booze- but I think I would have noticed them drinking wine, red wine at least. And no roses, just sad tulips. Oh! I could go on about the 2 little transition scenes they do with ok, both the “wine” (the bag from the liquor store that they have you you to believe is only holding one bottle) and the “roses” (the soon-to-die Tulips). Like it’s set up as a bit of like? Something to watch while they’re moving things around but actually? It reappears in the actual plot in a large way. And so many moments echo and mirror each other in words, actions, and song between Joe and Kirsten, but the reprises (so to speak) are new and fresh. Just so so neat. What a fun & exciting new piece of theatre. And why is the rolling out of the bed all the way to the front of the stage so funny? maybe it just was to me.

anyway anyway I have a lot of thoughts/they keep coming in and like loading which is wild. Like I’m joking but it’s as if I blacked out?? Perhaps someone on here will appreciate the image of me debating just buying closing night tickets even though I was too cheap to spend full price on any other performance// but a newer friend of mine posted a story of like, the New York Times review on opening night and I responded to it like “I’ve been dying to see this show!” and he was like “yeah haha it’s really good I’m working press on it lol isn’t that funny and I had to take a group pic with Kelli and was emailing her to arrange something and she saw me and called me over by name and gave me a hug- I didn’t know she knew my name!” I worked with this guy on the show I stage-managed recently and he’s in the process of quitting his sweet sweet press agent job and I’m not a close enough friend to acquire tickets from him and let me tell you,,, I was absolutely losing my mind reading this .

cut to my (other, closer) friend and I rolling up to the show without tickets the other night, with just hope & a dream and we were like 'wouldn’t it be funny if we saw like ~celebs/Broadway people because a lot of them are off tonight?' and we were chatting about watching the Tony's and stage-dooring and other unrelated stuff & we get tickets after 20 minutes and go to dinner and when we come back she’s like look it’s REDACTED TONY WINNER and I’m like omg. We go to step into the building proper and who do I see but my literal favorite actor at the moment other than REDACTED who is in the show and I was like friend it’s REDACTED! and she’s like go say hi and I’m like??? No I will not be doing that. And she’s like but he’s your favorite! And hey, we’re here to see REDACTED, who’s your other favorite! It’s a big night for you! But she was so loud that I was like looking straight ahead embarrassed that the random people in line would hear us. Literally what a time though, we had standing room tickets and then we got moved up like twice to center row, perfect view seats. Literally like a day later I was finally like O MY GOSH about it all,,, the desire to not be crazy about any of it and keep cool made me robotic in the moment and I’m very pro leaving-people-who-don’t-know-me-alone, so the circumstances were odd.

Anyway I literally have a notes app I keep throwing thoughts at about the most random moments from the show or the staging and it’s v good theatre. Like I enjoyed it, but wasn’t in love or anything but the more I stew on it, it’s a random choice of adaptation, a weird little show, its stars (including the actress playing their kid) are arguably all too old for their roles, there’s a song in Norwegian?? the opening number didn’t give me the ick but I was scared for my life that Brian was singing all of his lines// like I knew it was going to be a “two-hander” and read that the others other than the kid don’t really sing but that opener,,, I was like o no do I hate this? But also the set was so cool and as a recent big fan of Brian is was v cool to literally see him irl (lame I know) but why does the cast just pose in the beginning and slay for like 30 seconds? Idk but it was v 1950s chic of them idk idk we literally were clapping like,,, YEAH 👏👏👏 yeah! 👏👏 . And the scatting/jazziness of it all, I literally was shook but so pleasantly surprised by it all. What a treat! New musicals!!!

ok i literally never resolved the point I was making that the opening scene was not my thing and I was a bit scared I was going to hate it, but really enjoyed like the following 90%! Something about the first song is that it shouldn't be a song, in my opinion. I get why people are tempted to call it a play with songs, but I do think it's a real musical. Just was a bit cursed watching Joe singing right off the bat when no one else did, imo! If I were to see it/hear it again I may come around to it, but something about the way he was like half-singing was weird to me lol

but also randomly saw something from a video (that I haven’t watched as of yet) of Kelli saying they were supposed to open on BROADWAY February 2021 I think?? (tell me they wouldn't have closed immediately w/ omicron? or am i mistaken, I watched like 3 shows I was rooting for that season close early, and there were a TON) Literally the more I think about the show I’m like,, respectfully don’t transfer to Broadway,, it’s so special where it’s at, like I know Atlantic announced its next season I feel? But I don’t know what theatre it would fit in correctly, they’re all too big and the opposite of the intimate experience it is rn. In a perfect world I literally want them to film this version (which I know is the epitome of highly unlikely) but also, I think realistically other than the star power of the cast and creative team it’s such a hard sell for your typical theater-goer or tourist and I would hate for its history to be one of a flop like,, what have we learned from The Sweet Smell of Success :((( I also learned via Kelli ‘s own post and someone’s reference on here that there’s a full boot of that…someone please me up with a link!

So what have we learned. A lot of takes I have not shared,,, it turns out I can get starstruck and it’s so embarrassing it makes me want to scream. Show is good! I’d love a cast recording and for it to not just die but,,, I’m fearful of the idea of a transfer- it seems like it’s likely happening anyway, someone on the team commented on Kelli’s ig about the Tony's all like “excited for next year!” And my press agent friend is all “they’re eying a transfer!” And it’s not that they don’t deserve it but… idk I will remain skeptical of that. I truly believe it can be a success where it is now, and that just because it isn’t a Broadway show doesn’t mean it isn’t impactful and rewarding creatively and etc etc there is the part in my brain like this is Brian’s Tony tho, no?

I firmly believe had everything w/ Next to Normal gone down differently he would have beat those little Billy Elliots’s in a heartbeat, but I digress. Like other than SSOS which I only have a idea of (and no clue about that year’s competition from the top of my head) he’s been up for 2 comedic roles which are hard sells in a category with “proper,” dramatic roles nominated -as in, actors who appeared in a leading role in a drama- and then ITW-which I have thoughts on separate from who his competitors were- which tows that line and sadly like,, it wasn’t even close for him. I feel like every nom he’s had doesn’t even quite show off how talented he is as an actor like idk how to describe it, but idk. I want a Chip Zien nom & win for Harmony, which my brain tells me may be a featured role but if it’s lead… all hypothetical but I’m not rooting on the show’s downfall… I just think it’s perfect where it is.

Anyway... chaotic highly informal thoughts but I also have a few screengrabs from my notes app note I am going to paste below. Would love to hear someone else's thoughts, and am willing to say, obviously, one of the REDACTED's in question is BdJ.

[hearsayhorizons]

Thinktober 2024 13: Tonic

Lekk stands at almost seven feet. She’s almost as wide as I am tall. A warrior from a “death planet,” she said it’s designated. So many muscles that grew so fast (perhaps artificially aided, though we don’t discuss most things from her world) that her arms are a mass of stretch marks and scars from the split skin. They’re so old and deep that even my healing potions do nothing.

She’s gorgeous, and insanely athletic, and none of the regulars we know will spar with her anymore. She’s also, in the most literate sense, a barbarian.

“You want to learn to read?” I repeat.

She nods. “I’ve been in the libraries here. I see the books you work from. I don’t how much call for it there is—where I’m from—but sometimes we find Imperial shuttles or old bases. Sometimes the computers are still up—but none of us know how. If we could, if one of those computers could kill all the droids—”

The unique nature of the house gives me context for computers, droids, and Imperials. In two days, we will both have to leave for a week; I will know nothing of these things for that duration. But I will remember her request, and I can bring materials back and forth readily enough.

The barkeeper says that the reason for the three-day time limit is because this place has proven addictive, but I don’t think it helps. I spend all of my time outside the House working on things for its benefit to earn my next stay, and I’m sure Lekk does likewise; my healing potions do work on the new scars she earns from these jobs.

Here we relax and—blessings be, Lekk helps me with my work here when I have a fully-stocked glasslab. A clever assistant and all the reagents I need... but only three days out of every ten. Giving that up to try to teach her to read three days at a time...

“I bet there’s someone better for that here,” I say. I hate myself for it. “I’m not a teacher, just an alchemist. Or—maybe there’s someone in your realm, that way you could have more consistent lessons.”

“But I trust you,” she says.

When I privately poll the barkeep for suggestions or help, it—she, now, I guess—just shrugs at me, mindless of jostling the baby strapped to her chest.

“The house provides. The language you work at will be the ones you need for each of you. Beyond that, if she wants no other teacher, that’s you. How did you learn?”

But rote memorization doesn’t work for Lekk. She knows all the letters and can name them. I’m either a major failure as a teacher, or she has dyslexia. Probably the former. The letters just don’t tie to words for her.

And then one day we enter my lab to find all my reagents and sands discombobulated. No one else can even find this space without me, so—so what happened?

“Oh, no. This—this sets me back weeks, because I can only be here for a few days. And organizing this... by myself...” I am not proud to admit that I crumple to the slate floor.

“Acornite,” Lekk says. Wood whispers on wood. Paper rustles. “Beetroot.”

I push my braids out of my face. “Lekk?” Another unique property of the house: the desks and tables and chairs are all at the perfect height for both of us at the same time. I try not to think about it too hard. She is at the reagent cabinet, where the drawers and the labels have both been shifted about. “Briar heart. This is... this says... Catbane.”

“Lekk... You’ve been helping me here with the lifting and the pouring and the glassblowing and the organizing for, oh, ages. When was the last time you tried to read?”

Of course, the library has a book that strings those words into sentences, into context for proper reading. Of course it does. The house provides. That book? Hooked on Tonics.

[fatuismooches]

Hello

I just saw your post with the fragile SO and honestly I loved it sooo much ❤️

Now I wanted to request kinda of a follow up. Like what if before you died you wrote them a letter, saying how much you love them and how they made your last days on earth so memorable and stuff like that. And they found it, like maybe a month or so after your death. How would they all react? (I'm specially curious of Capitano because you said you thought he would think that he killed you 😭)

I really love your writing and I plan to make more request in the future 👋

-🦎

♡𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞/𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋��𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐝 ♡

synopsis: The Harbingers are made of steel, unflinching in any possible situation. But it seems that even such strong beings falter in the face of their lover's death, especially after they find a letter you left behind. Can be read as a part 2 to this.

includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader

notes: Hop on the angst train, everyone. This is the first completely angsty thing I've written, and probably one of my favorites + longest pieces. I hope you enjoy this sadness, anon...!

Pierro:

Pierro carried on. He went about his day, filing paperwork, assigning duties to new recruits. What could he do? There was no time to mourn. The entire Fatui depended on his guidance and orders. He couldn’t just drop everything to fully devote himself to grieving you. But everyone knew - in any spare moment he had, he was thinking about you. Thinking about how he used to be able to go home to you waiting for him. Thinking about the walks he took with you that were heartwarming despite the body-chilling temperature. Thinking about when you were alive.

It was another day when one of your maids came to him with a piece of paper. Of course, she was terrified at being in the presence of the Harbinger, but she presented a folded piece of paper to him, stating that she had found it while cleaning your room. Pierro hadn’t been in there for a while. He was consciously trying his best to avoid it, choosing to pick up work instead. He nodded and the maid quickly scurried out of the room. It was most likely a final memento from you. He should honor that, he thought as he took off his mask.

Dear Pierro,

Hello there, my love. I hope your day wasn’t too tiring. I know how you’re always swamped with your Fatui business and such. You’re the head Harbinger, you know! You should definitely abuse your power to get some more days off. You didn’t hear that from me though, not like I wanna keep you to myself or anything. Totally not because I’m dying to spend some more time with you before I quite literally die. 

You know, sometimes I wish I was a Fatui soldier just so that I could admire you from afar some more. Those recruits are damn lucky, getting to see you more than I do. I don’t mean to complain though. I’m still tremendously grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying the best moments of my life with you. Yeah, even when I made jokes you still had that stoic look on your face but it was still hilarious. I loved when you would wrap me in your coat and tell me stories about Khaenri’ah. Even when you weren’t here, I loved when these random recruits would be scurrying to my room every so often to deliver your handwritten notes. 

Truly, there’s no life I’d rather live than this one… minus the illness part though. I am sorry to make you shoulder another death, my dear, but I love you greatly. I will always be with you.

Quietly, Pierro put the paper down and rubbed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ever since the fall of his nation, his heart had long gone numb. He had tried to ignore the prickling of his heart after your death, but your letter was really rubbing it on. When was the last time mere words could stir up such emotion in him? He didn’t know. But he promised you, this would not be your final resting place. Pierro knew, after fulfilling the Tsaritsa’s promise, he would see you again.

Capitano:

Capitano wasn’t very photogenic. After all, all you saw was a helmet shrouding his face in darkness along with his pitch-black armor and clothes. But you had insisted on taking a variety of pictures with him, claiming that it kept you happy. It wasn’t until later on when he stumbled across a scrapbook, with pages covered in photos of the two of you together, that he understood why. Since then, he let you do as you please. The doctors said it was good for you to keep occupied by doing things you liked. And well, it was rather cute, with all the decorations and fancy tape you added. Capitano often found himself looking at it to see what you added when you weren’t around.

But ever since your death, he hadn’t looked at it since. If he did, he didn’t think he’d be able to control the emotions boiling up inside of him. If he looked at your smiling face again, the pain and regret would be too much to bear. But as the days passed by and he continued to think about you, he couldn’t help but flip open the scrapbook, revisiting the memories he made with you so long ago. He flipped until he found a envelope in the middle, causing him to perk up. It had been sealed perfectly, even stamped with one of his seals. Now, Capitano didn’t want to invade your privacy, but what was inside called to him too much, and he very carefully unsealed it with a knife. Inside was a piece of parchment, similar to the ones he used to send you letters.

My knight,

I’m writing this after you just left for an expedition. You’ve just fed me breakfast (a/d fa//ed, but it’s f/ne b/ca/se it w/s c/te.) (The ending part of the sentence has been erased, but it’s still a bit readable.) We took an early bath together, and you helped me choose a nice outfit for today. You dutifully assisted me with my medicine and tucked me back into bed for some rest. Lastly, you’ve just tenderly kissed me with all the love in the world, my favorite part of course.

It’s too bad that I won’t be able to receive any more of your kisses soon. I think the sickness is really catching up to me, haha. (There are some doodles of the two of you randomly drawn in the middle of the paper, with lots of hearts and stars and rainbows. Maybe you stopped because you didn’t know how to continue.) To be honest, I’ve asked the doctors not to tell you, and somehow, they’ve listened to me. I just don’t want you to worry about me. Somehow, for someone as menacingly looking as you, you worry a lot more than I thought (no offense, though.)

I don’t want you to blame yourself for anything, my love. You genuinely made my life so, so much better. Even towards the end, I can only feel happiness that I was able to share some of my life with someone so incredible. You aren’t a monster. You’re the man I love dearly, the one who many people look up to all the time. You did everything and more, which really warms my heart.

I’m saying this because I know how you are and I need to knock some sense into you before you start getting any crazy ideas. Please don’t beat yourself up. If I could choose my destiny, I’d rather choose to be sick and be with you rather than being healthy. I’d choose you again and again, over and over, my dear. I love you, truly.

Carefully folding the letter, he tucked it into the envelope again and resealed it. He snugly placed it back into the scrapbook and closed it, placing it back into the drawer where he usually kept it. Capitano was used to the grief and destruction that war brought. But he wasn’t used to it when love brought these feelings upon him. His heart still hurt - terribly so - but… your letter seems to have brought him some peace. You would forever be in his heart.

Columbina:

It had been a while since your death. By now, everyone had become accustomed to hearing her songs every day. It was a constant reminder of your passing. Oftentimes,  Columbina had begun to stay in your room longer than her own. You were gone, but something about your space soothed her soul a bit from all the grief she was going through. And she also liked to go through your stuff and remember different things about you.

There was a box that contained a compilation of the many songs and poems she gifted you, along with some that you created yourself with her help. Sometimes, she liked to go through the box and think about you, but she never had the time to inspect every piece. Until now, when she noticed that there was an unfamiliar piece of paper that she didn’t recognize. Columbina picked it up and began to read.

My lovely melody,

Lately, I’ve begun to sing more. I think you’ve inspired me. I hope you don’t mind me stealing that one song you like to hum the most. The only problem is that I don’t have enough stamina to sing for that long, and I think my voice is kind of off-key. But I promise I’m working on it! I’m not going to tell you yet because I want to surprise you with something nice, as a thank you for taking care of me for so long.

Actually, there’s another problem, and it’s that… (it seems that you wrote a lot of words here and then scratched them out; perhaps you were unsure how to word it) Well, I guess I don’t really know if I’ll live long enough to perform for you. It’s been kind of tough lately. But I’m going to persevere for you. Your poems have been helping a lot. We should make a book of them one day. And um, in the case that I don’t make it, I would like you to know how happy you made me.

I always got so giddy when I heard you humming down the hallway. Nothing felt better than when you would croon to me and massage my scalp and play with my hair. You are so comforting and sweet, and just - lots of things that would be too much to write. I always feel eternally fortunate that I was able to have a lover as amazing as you. You really did change my life. I love you very much, Columbina. Please don’t forget me.

Columbina’s usual smile had turned into a downward curve. Oh, how she wished she could hear you sing. Your usual voice and laugh had already been angelic to her, she knew your songs would be beautiful too. But you were no longer here. She would have really loved to hear your song. You would have been the best duet partner. But perhaps, you could hear her songs from the other world as she laid on your coffin once again.

Dottore:

Dottore hadn’t entered your room since your death. He was far too busy with his research and experimentation with resurrection. Mourn you? No, no, you weren’t going to be dead for long, after he finds the answer. You would be back in his arms soon enough. Both of you would be fine. That was, until no matter how hard he researched, he always seemed to hit a dead end. It was frustrating. He couldn’t believe it, but he was at the point where he willingly needed a couple of minutes to rest. Dottore headed to his room, but as he placed his hand on the doorknob, something stopped him and he looked over to the room next to his, yours. He silently walked over and opened your room, having not been in it for a while. The only reason you didn’t share a room was that his was very… bland, boring, not very comfortable, and not spacious enough for the medical equipment.

It was the same as he had left it, not bothering to change anything. You liked to decorate it, and he let you. Framed photos of the two of you were on the dresser, lights hung up around the room. It seemed to make you happy. But there was something he had not noticed before - a slip of paper sticking out from under the pillow. Dottore walked over and took off his mask - something he unconsciously tended to do when it was just the two of you - and opened the folded paper.

To Zandik,

I remember when you first took interest in me, looking at me up and down with your mask on, a wide smirk on your face. I knew my parents said they hired someone intelligent to cure me, but I sure didn’t expect it to be the second Harbinger. I think you already know this, but when I saw you, I was kinda scared for my life. And I was for a while, especially when you made me drink the most hellish concoctions and injected strange things into me. But long story short, I still fell in love with you somehow. Even though you were probably trying so hard just because you wanted to solve the mystery of my illness, I couldn’t help but think you were quite handsome when you focused on something so intensely. Your pointy teeth were the cutest. (The previous sentence has been erased but Dottore could still make it out. You were an idiot, he thinks.)

I don’t mean to insult your intelligence or skill… but I don’t think I’m going to make it, Dottore. I know you’ve been trying really, really hard (I was there the whole time, after all) to help cure me, but I think you know better than me about my condition. So yeah. I guess this is my goodbye… my parting letter.

I know you don’t care about anyone or anything really, but I hope you accept it when I say I genuinely enjoyed our time together. Yea, you were hella terrifying and a lot of scary stories drifted about you, but there was a lot of maniacal laughter and you rambling on about things I had no clue about, but I would always happily listen to you, Zandik. I would write more, but I don’t think you’re one for sappy words and stuff like that. So I’ll leave end it here. I love you very much.

His mouth was a straight thin line at the end of your letter. Dottore put his mask back on and tucked your letter into his coat. For once, he couldn’t blame someone for insulting his intelligence. He did fail, after all. But Dottore was no stranger to failure. Experimentation was a series of trials and errors, failures and successes. He swore to himself that you would not be a failure. Perhaps his journey to Sumeru, the land of wisdom, would grant him some more insight for your resurrection.

Pulcinella:

It was just after your funeral. Surprisingly, all the Harbingers had gathered too. It seemed like they had grown somewhat fond of you after Pulcinella introduced you to them, at least enough to attend your funeral. Pulcinella was grateful. He had spoken a few words in memory of you. He couldn’t keep everyone for long. They had other matters to attend to. But in his heart, he had a lot of dear words for you. 

Pulcinella sat down at his desk, deciding to do some paperwork to distract his mind. He pulled out the drawer to retrieve some items but he noticed a piece of paper stuffed to the back of it. He certainly had not put that there. He reached for it and opened it to read the contents.

Hey Papanella,

Do you like that nickname I came up with? I haven’t said it to you yet because I’m not sure how you’ll react. But I think it’s pretty cute. I haven’t said this out loud yet either but… um, I guess you’re like my dad to me. My own parents never cared much for me after my illness proved to be too much work, but you always treated me so kindly. So yeah. Thanks for being a father figure to me. Archons, this is kind of embarrassing.

I’m admitting this because I don’t know how much longer I have. I know you’re always encouraging me to keep living on, and I really do appreciate it. I’m sincerely trying my best, but I think my sickness has been getting worse. Ah, and thanks for introducing me to the Harbingers. They’re pretty scary but they’re kind of cool when you get to know them. Some of them are cute too. Please don’t tell them I said that. But really, for the longest time, I thought my life would amount to nothing, and that no one would remember me. But you proved me wrong. I truly enjoyed spending the last of my days doing old people stuff with you (just kidding of course!)

I’m going to ask you to tell me lots of more stories when I see you again. They really make my day. I like the ones about you in your youth the best. They’re the funniest. Anyway, I love you, gramps. Don’t miss me too much.

Pulcinella was old. He had seen things be built and broken down, people come and go. But he always hated it the most when he had to see youngsters go before he did. Especially innocent ones who had done nothing wrong. He just prayed, that whichever world you were in now, treated you better than this one did.

Scaramouche:

Ever since your death, the soldiers had been on the receiving end of Scaramouche’s insults even more. No longer were you here to hastily save them from his berating, much to their dismay.  They actually appreciated you for stopping Scaramouche from giving them another verbal (and sometimes even physical) beating. But now if he wasn’t yelling at someone, he was deathly silent, which was why even scarier than his words. Everyone knew they were forbidden from speaking about you in his presence.

When Scaramouche had to visit Inazuma for whatever reason, he always found himself walking towards your house. Once he had came across the Tenryou Commission moving your items out of your house, due to no one living there anymore and the want for someone else to buy it. Needless to say, he swiftly dealt with them and sent them on their way with rage. They had tried a few more times and he did not hold back, until later they stopped coming, apparently after the head shrine maiden gave an order on the behalf of the Shogun to leave the residence alone. Hmph.

He doesn’t know why he keeps coming here, the only thing that’s different is the new collection of dust on the dresser. But the want to see you again keeps calling him, only to leave Scaramouche sorely disappointed. He thinks he knows every nook and cranny of your house, that is until he walks on a floorboard that caves in and nearly makes him fall. He’s about to lose his temper until he sees a piece of paper hidden under the floor. The words die in his throat as he picks it up to inspect.

To my beloved Kunikuzushi,

As I write this, you’re probably yelling at some unfortunate Fatui soul and they’re all trembling in their boots. Haha, I wish I was there to see that. You should be nicer, you know. But it is kinda funny to see you mad. I hope you come back soon… it’s getting too quiet around here without your quips and remarks.

But I know as you read this, I’m no longer alive. Kuni, I… (There are wrinkled spots around this area, presumably from your tears.)

I love you, and I don’t want rage and hatred to consume you again. I’m sorry to make your heart bear such pain again. It may be fruitless to say this, but please don’t blame yourself… it was out of our control. Please know I enjoyed every moment with you, whether you were cursing at some guy who bumped into me, even when you teased me relentlessly, or silently crying in my arms about your fate. But my favorite part was your soft smiles which grew more frequent. You are loved very much by me too. I want to see you smile more, many more times before I- (The rest of the sentence was scribbled over with a pen, making it unreadable.)

I wish I didn’t have to depart so soon… I wish I was born someone else, someone more strong and healthier… if I was, would our story be different, Kuni? Perhaps we’ll meet again one day… hopefully, sooner rather than later, and maybe I won’t be the same as I am now, but…

Will you wait for me, Kunikuzushi?

Scaramouche hated when he cried. He felt weak, stupid, and disgusting, especially when you were there. And somehow, he couldn’t help but feel worse than that when he finished reading your letter. He was never favored by the Gods, having been betrayed by one already. It seemed as though he was always fated to be betrayed by people he cared about. But he knew deep down that you didn’t betray him, he did instead by not being able to protect and save you. In an effort to bury his despair, anger, and grief, he would wipe himself clean of foolish human emotions, ready to ascend to godhood with his creator’s Gnosis…

Arlecchino:

Arlecchino’s days had been exactly the same ever since your death. They were the same as before she had met you too. Bland. Boring. Dull. It was after your passing that she truly realized how much your presence had added some thrill and color into her life. Now they were empty. But she was used to that. She had felt that way for a long time.

Arlecchino didn’t do much in her room besides sleep. Her room wasn’t anything special, just the standard and rich master bedroom. That was, until you took it upon yourself to decorate it. She hadn’t bothered to change it despite the style being very much different from hers. Today she had come in briefly to retrieve some documents under her bed. But, there was a random piece of paper there, collected dust on top of it, most likely from being placed there a long time ago. Arlecchino opened the folded paper and was greeted with your handwriting.

To my sunshine,

I bet you’re wondering why the hell I chose “sunshine” of all names. Even I can admit that you are nothing like sunshine. But I wanted to spice things up a bit, and to be honest, you bring a lot of sunshine into my heart and dreary little life, despite your stone-cold face. So yeah! I don’t think I can call you that to your face though. It’d be too scary.

I didn’t tell you, but I’ve had some people ask me why I chose to stay with you despite my health being what it is. My answer is always very easy - I love you, Arlecchino. Plain and simple. They don’t know how you are with me (which I’m kinda glad for… I want to keep this side of you to myself; yes, I know I’m greedy.) The way your lips quirk up for a split second then always turn downwards because you don’t want anyone to see. The way your eyes soften for a bit when I tell a corny joke. Or when I do anything actually. Your facial expressions are pretty cute.

Ahem, moving on from that, I guess you can say that I’m not too scared to say these things because I might be leaving you soon. Not of my free will, of course. Rather, it seems like the time my illness is allowing me to live is limited. Hopefully, you don’t notice anything off about me. I don’t think I could explain all of this in person… 

But I am really thankful to you for sticking by my side for so long. Even though you don’t tell me, I know sometimes you lament about your lack of ability to be verbally and affectionately comforting. But I hope you know that I don’t really care about that. You are more than enough for me. You’ve done a lot more than you think. I’m forever appreciative, my dear.

Arlecchino was left speechless, the usual bite in her throat died down. As someone who had few kind words to say to others, having such sweetness directed at her was not something she was used to. But of course, a part of her wasn’t surprised, because the only person who’d utter such things was you. It pained her, and even the children who cried after your death, greatly. But whenever she needed a reminder of you, she would uncharacteristically gently trace her fingertips over the words of your letter.

La Signora:

Everyone knew to stay out of La Signora’s way after your death. She was cruel before, but your passing seemed to reignite all the flames of anguish and hatred she harbored deep inside her broken heart. Once again, her walls had been put up to be unbreakable.

Rosalyne had gifted you a lot of makeup and accessories. She liked to experiment on you and liked it when you tried it yourself too. You had kept everything in a nice big box so nothing would get lost. One day she felt drawn to it again. She knew she was missing you dearly again, and although opening it would just cause her heartache, she couldn’t help but pry it open to see how you kept it. But on top was a hastily folded letter, stained a bit by the surrounding makeup, tucked into a small compartment. She flipped it open and began to scan the contents.

My dearest Rosalyne,

Hello there, pretty lady. You know, that’s the first thing I thought when I saw you. Tall pretty lady. Did you know that? Now you do. Anyway, I was wondering - how many of your flame moths can you create at a time?? Can you make them form a heart or something? 

Haha, I’m sorry for beating around the bush. The truth is I don’t know how much longer I have left. No matter how much warmth your moths provide me, for some reason, I always feel the chill of death creeping up my spine…

I don’t mean to be your second heartbreak. I’m really sorry… you deserve so much better than that. But for what it’s worth, you made my life a lot better than it was before. I hadn’t had much confidence in myself because of my illness for a long time. But you, Rosalyne… you made me feel like an actual person, as strange as that sounds. I feel like, when I’m with you, you make me feel so loved and special. I’m far from it but I actually feel like royalty. And royalty is really a life worth living. I don’t even know how you did it, but thank you. My life is so, so much happier thanks to you.

Hopefully, I make it a lot longer after I’m writing this letter. Maybe the Gods could finally take pity on me and give me some kind of blessing so I can stay with you longer. But if anything happens, I really, truly love you, Rosalyne. (The end of the letter has an origami moth colored in and taped to it.)

Signora’s hand trembled as she finished your letter. Her heart had returned to being ice, but it felt like her whole body was being swallowed up in red-hot grief and anger. Signora would dedicate herself solely to the Tsaritsa’s noble dream. It was the only thing she could do now, with nothing else to do and no one left for her freezing heart to love. No one could ever hope to understand the grief and pain she’s been through. Perhaps, that was why when she stood in front of the Raiden Shogun’s sword, she did not feel much regret.

Pantalone:

Whenever Pantalone went out, he often found himself looking through the windows of many stores to view their products. It was almost an instinct to pull out a large sum of Mora to buy anything he thought you’d like. And he still did this, only that he stopped halfway every time when he remembered that you were no longer with him. And his heart felt painfully heavy once again, like how heavy his smile felt with the pressure to keep it up.

The silence of his office had become a norm once again, your joyful presence no longer around to brighten it up. Pantalone opted to drown himself in paperwork to ignore it. Actually, he never realized how much the tick of the grandfather clock bothered him until now. Usually, your voice was loud enough to hide it. He sighed and reached for the bottom drawer to get some new pens to sign the documents. But his eyes widened as he saw a paper clearly laid out there, addressed to him at the top. His heart beat quickened as he carefully picked it up and realized it was from you. It seemed like you had experimented with some fancy calligraphy pens he had gotten you a while ago. And you had also stolen every stamp you had from him and stamped all over the paper.

Darling,

Hello, my love. Sorry for all the random stamps. I wanted to see what they looked like. Why does the Fatui need so many different-shaped stamps? You should make one of us, actually. And do you see I’ve been practicing my cursive script? (Indeed, on the back on the paper, your name has been signed in different styles.) I’ve been trying to do my signature all fancy like you. Hopefully, I’m improving.

I am thinking to make you read me a bedtime story tonight. I found a new one that seemed pretty cute. It’s a commoner falling in love with a nobleman… a tale of forbidden romance. It seems to go fine, until the commoner s/cc/mbs to (It seems that you scratched off the rest of the sentence.) Actually, I won’t spoil the ending for you. But by the time you read this letter, we may have finished it already. I’m just going to abuse that pretty voice of yours as much as I can (kidding of course… but no joke. Have you tried some kind of service where you just read things to people? I think you’d make a lot of money from that. I sure would give all my life savings to you.)

I guess since I’m writing this, I should say another thing I’m thinking about. I’m not sure how much longer I can hang on. I’m trying my best because I don’t want to let you down. I know you’ve been trying your best, with all these fancy doctors and equipment, but um… yeah. But I should also say that I’m not regretful having spent my time with you. You made the last days of my life so relaxing, so stress-free, so… nice. I’m glad I don’t need to worry about anything with you. Let’s move on from this, actually.

I’m thinking of a lot of things, actually. I wonder what you made the chef prepare for us tonight. Mhm… I’m getting hungry. Will you feed me dessert again too? Hah, I’m going to miss thinking about such mundane things. Hmm, I think I can hear your voice down the hall, so I’ll wrap this up. I love you.

Pantalone gazed at your words forlornly, his mouth formed into a downwards line. He had never thought the loss of something besides Mora could squeeze his heart so painfully, but here you were, making his eyes sting once again. Blinking back any tears, he made sure to store your letter in a safe place. He made a note to visit your grave today. He’d bring your favorite snack too, and read you a story perhaps.

Sandrone:

It was almost ironic - the puppet master had become a puppet herself. She didn’t speak much to others anymore, choosing to lock herself up in her lab. A part of her debated making some kind of robot or doll replica of you. But it would never be the same. She wouldn’t feel your warmth, or your natural, free laugh. Nothing would be similar.

Sandrone had begun inspections on all of her created robots. It was a grueling process she had gotten used to, but she missed the chirping of your voice as she did so. She worked in silence, opening the compartment of one of them when she was caught off guard by a formerly white paper, caked in dust, inside. The only person who had access to her Automatons was you. So could it possibly be…?

My forever,

I’m actually writing this in the same room as you. You're too preoccupied with your robot building and engineering and all that stuff, so you don’t notice me rushing to write all of this. I’ll make this quick. Actually, it’s hard to concentrate when you look so pretty and intelligent. Ahh, I’m so lucky to have you with me.

I think you’re repairing one of your robots so it can lift us up and take us on a walk. I’m excited. Those are always so much fun. I know you aren’t a sappy person. But I want to make my feelings clear, since I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to watch you unscrew some bolts and hammer down the nails. I don’t need to say it outright, do I? We both know I’ve been getting worse. Neither of us wants to say it out loud, but it’s reality.

Before I go, let me make it clear, since I know you like being blunt. You are my everything. Seeing your cute little robots send me these cute little messages really made my day. I think you told me a long time ago that you didn’t care much about human emotions. I think that’s changed now. I love waking up to see that calm and content expression on your face and watching it become a bit more softer when you see me. You’re more human than you think, you know. Some people think that being cooped up in a lab with a Harbinger is not an ideal way to live. But I beg to differ. I would choose no other way to live as long as I’m with you, Sandrone.

I think you’re finished with your tinkering. I’m going to have one of the robots hide this paper in them. I think some of them like me better than you >:) I wonder how long it’ll be until you find it. Hopefully, you don’t find it too quickly because it’ll be awkward to explain this to you. Either way… I love you dearly, Sandrone.

Sandrone gently brushed off the dust on your letter. She wished she found it sooner. She didn’t know whether it was good or bad her heart was finally feeling some emotion again, but she was grateful to have some final parting words from you. Sandrone had a bubble of inspiration float up in her. She had a good idea of what she was going to build next.

Childe:

Childe had found it after he was cleaning out your apartment in Liyue. He wanted to bring all of your stuff to his home in Snezhnaya. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t throw any of your items away, even the random useless trinkets. Childe’s chest felt hollow as he opened the door to your residence. He expected to see your face brighten and eagerly pull yourself out of bed to hug him. He’d easily lift you off the floor and spin you around, drinking in your gleeful giggles as he pressed his lips to yours. But now it was just the creak of the floorboards as he walked in.

Childe had a memory connected to every piece of clothing that you had. That one he gifted to you for your birthday. Another he remembered twirling you around in on a picnic. One of his sweaters that he doesn't remember you stealing from him, mingled with your scent and his. Archons, his chest hurt so badly, but there was nothing he could do as he neatly placed your items in boxes, emptiness consuming him. He was finishing up the packing when a piece of paper folded in half fell out of one of your pants’ pockets. Childe picked it up and his eyes widened when he recognized your handwriting and his real name. Sitting down on your bed, he began to read.

To my one and only Ajax,

My greatest wish is that you’ll never find and read this letter because it means that we’re living our best lives. We’re happy, content, still deeply in love with each other… living in bliss. 

But if you’re reading this, then we probably didn’t go and do all of the cool and exciting things you wanted us to. I didn’t move to Sneznhnaya and I didn’t meet the rest of your family. We didn’t go travel to all the nations like you wanted to…

Heh, that’s too bad. I was really looking forward to seeing the same sights you saw on your travels. The pretty bloom of Inazuma’s sakura trees, the beautiful snow-covered streets of Snezhnaya. Remember that time you asked me if I wanted to conquer the world with you? Of course, since I can’t ever say no to you, I accepted your proposition. But in my head, I couldn’t help but think that you should probably choose someone who can match your ability and someone who is act/a/ly g/i/g to b/ ali/e. (The previous words have been haphazardly erased, making it hard to make out.)

You know I… (The ink here has bled through the paper, most likely due to you stopping there for a good while.) I don’t even know what to say, I’m just sorry. I don’t wanna leave you, I wanna be by your side forever, wanna be attacked by your cuddles every day. But the only thing I can do now is to make sure you understand that I’m truly grateful for you. No one else has ever cared about me as much as you did. You never stopped believing in me and always smiled when I needed you. You made my feeble life worth living.

Please don’t be sad. Teucer and the rest of your siblings need you. I love you so very much…

He didn’t realize how hard he was digging his fingernails into his skin until he started bleeding through the paper. Childe had been through endless battles, and fought countless enemies, but no wound had ever burned as badly as his heart did right now. Even in the Abyss, he did not feel as bottomless of despair as he felt right now. He wanted to hold you again too, Childe thought. He wanted to kiss you all over and show you how much he loved you. But you were gone, and the letter just solidified it more. He laid down on your bed, hand covering his forehead as he stared blankly at your ceiling. Biting down on his lip hard, he tried to prevent tears from flowing again. He would just go back to being the Tsarista’s weapon again, drowning himself in battle and blood just to feel something after your death.

[inklore]

a friendly bet.

premise: friendly banter leads to a very interesting bet.

pairing: druig x (f)reader

warnings: this is a prologue, teasing, banter, super cheesiness because tis the season, literally no warnings because it’s just a prologue lmao. but still 18+ only minors dni, you will be blocked

word count: 1.05k+

etc: this is just the small prologue to the series since i didn’t want to spend too much time in the first chapters explaining everything and wanted to just jump right into the cute stuff. so, this is short, sweet and to the point and teases the dynamic between these two!

series masterlist

At first you don’t think you’ve heard him right, the pub wasn’t that packed for it being a Friday night but the booming hum of some Christmas medley playing through the speakers above—and the few drinks you’ve had that have a dull buzz settling into your veins traveling through to your ringing ears—it was hard to hear him.

Without batting an eye, or for warning you, Druig grabs one of the legs of your stool and pulls you closer. His legs are spread and he’s sitting on the edge of his own stool, making you now inadvertently sat in his lap—between his open legs and looking at him wearily, the smile on your face slightly faltering at how close the two of you now were. His other arm leaning on the bar, the one on your stool moving from the leg of the seat to rest atop your knee.

A placement that is not out of the ordinary when it comes to the two of you. The pair of you had been friends for years now, you were used to Druig touching you—usually in the helping or playful nature, he was never one to just reach out and touch you just because. And maybe that’s why your body is reacting the way it is. Why you suddenly feel like you can’t move, don’t dare to. Or why his hand is burning through your jeans making the overheated pub even more sweltering, you silently praying someone opens the pub door to let in the cold from outside if only to cool you down for a second.

And before this moment you would have thought you’ve had every look Druig has ever given you memorized. He wasn’t a predictable person but he was one of habit and with as long as the two of you had been friends he rarely strayed from said habits, giving you leeway to learn his mannerisms.

But with the way he was looking at you right now you thought maybe that wasn’t the case anymore. Sure, his signature lopsided smirk was there. The one that both intimidated and intrigued people to and away from him. This expression was nothing new to you, had never made you bat an eye at the spread of it across his lips, or the sometimes cocky playful tone that accompanied it. Except now it seemed different. Felt different. He was looking at you so intensely, a look in his eyes that made your breath change and cheeks burn a little hot—it was god awful hot in the pub right now as if the air had been sucked out, like Druig was using up all the air to stare at you, to taunt you with that unreadable look, the placement of his hand. And it was making you think you drank too much, and put your nerves on edge at the same frustrating time. Two feelings you’d never felt when you were around Druig.

“I said,” his lips quirk up a bit more as he leans forward a bit, making his chest move into your space, brushing against your shoulder. His face so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath as he speaks, “I bet I can make you fall for me before Christmas.”

You let out a soft laugh, that slowly turns into a breathy chuckle once you realize he’s serious. His expression not changing, his face reading stoic seriousness mixed with that cockiness that you supposed got you here in the first place. Your comment earlier about ragging on him when all of the girls in the pubs head had turned when he walked in, striking a cord with him apparently. And if you didn’t know Druig you’d figure it would just be the cool leather jacket and smirk that always seemed to reel the girls in. But Druig was more than that, he had layers to him that once they were peeled back—once he let them be peeled back—you could see that there was more to him than a pretty boyish face.

So when you said, jokingly, that he could make any girl fall in love with him without effort. That he probably took too much pride in the fact, him and his dumb smirk—something that could not be far from true when it came to Druig. But it had made the two of you laugh and joke about it until beers were ordered and you’d moved on to other topics. Or so you thought. Until now, as if he’s testing your tease, your bluff.

“What?” He asks, his smirk turns into a half sided grin. There’s a beat where neither of you speak, or make an attempt to answer, as if everything that has been spoken into reality is settling into locked eyes, shared breaths, and uneasy unexplainable feelings. “You said you bet I could make any girl in here fall for me easily, right?” He picks, teases, throws your words back at you, “so let’s test this theory, win or lose we both get bragging rights. And I know you enjoy proving me wrong, love.” The hand on your knee squeezes and it makes you scowl at him.

“This is a joke right?”

“Do you want it to be?”

“It’s unrealistic.”

“Is it?” He chuckles lowly, “you’re the one who said it.”

“Yes, but not me!” You laugh at the absurdity of the whole thing, but part of you was not too surprised that Druig was challenging such a thing—the context itself yes—the two of you loved to pick and tease the other to the point where others got annoyed while hanging out with the two of you together. The constant banter and love to keep the other one going was what you loved about your friendship. There was never a dull moment.

“Why?” His eyes drift down to where his hand rests on your knee, it moves slightly, the smallest of an inch, the intake of breath you do definitely from nerves. And when his eyes trail up your figure, his gaze falling to your lips, his voice low, teasing, full of intent. “Think you’ll lose?”

And as if you’ve never been sure of anything more than this you accept the bet with the determination to see Druig eat his words.

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

Mob bucky/seb or mob chris/andy recs??

Updated 07/04/21 ✨ = Just Added

To be added please tag me in your future works!

Hey Anon! I’m so glad you asked this because Mob/Mafia! Any version of those boys is my favorite. In my previous fic recs I recommended...

If love was an option by @mianorth » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Part 1 🦋 Part 2 🦋 Part 3

Good Little Wife & Good Little Girl by @donutloverxo » Mob!Andy Barber x Reader – A little dark and it has some really good smut in it.

Blackmail by @stargazingfangirl18 » Soft!DarkMafia Andy Barber x Female Reader — You were just doing it to protect your family, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself, especially once you started to like it. (One-Shot)

Blow Sweet and Thick by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky x Reader — Bucky is having a bad day, you can help him feel good. (Part of Mafia Monday’s)

Run To You by @bestofbucky » Mob!Boss Bucky x Reader — Mob boss Bucky Barnes hires you to be his bodyguard. (Series)

Can’t Run, Can’t Hide by @angrythingstarlight » Dark!MafiaBucky Barnes x Reader — When you get noticed by the infamous mob boss, you flee. But Bucky doesn’t like to be denied anything and he’s coming for you. (One-shot)

Six Feet | Ch.1 ⚰️ Ch.2 by @queenoftheworldisdead » Dark Mob!Steve x Reader + Dark Mob!Bucky x Reader — Your family’s small funeral home comes into financial trouble. In desperation your father finds the most unlikely solution to solve his financial problems. | (Short Series)

Bankrupt by @mypoisonedvine » dark!40’s!Mob!Stucky x Reader — Your husband’s gambling addiction quickly got him in hot water with the mob, and you by extension. When some debt collectors come by to settle what is owed, you realize that you have a lot more to worry about than money problems.

Partition by @angrythingstarlight » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky comforts you after a bad day, and your boss learns why no one messes with his girl. —> Part 2: Let Me Show You — You wanted to know what your mobster boyfriend did, lucky for you he’s more into the show then tell.

Say the word and it’s yours by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mobster boyfriend rescues you from a long, boring day at work. Bucky always said, “ask and its yours”

Lost Without You by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky Barnes would be lost with you. You’re his everything and he plans on spending Valentine’s Day proving it to you.

All Dressed In White by @angrythingstarlight » Dark!Mafia Bucky Barnes x Reader — You were going to marry someone else, Bucky won’t let that happen. You belong to him now and forever. Till Death Do You Part.

Thick As Thieves by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Mafia!Steve Rogers — The only thing the Mafia hates as much as snitches are thieves. And you’re planning on stealing from Bucky and Steve, what happens if you get caught?

Won’t Let You Go by @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay » Mob!Bucky Barnes x OFC!Kori — Kori met Bucky in one of his clubs, out to get shit-faced with a couple of friends to forget about her worries and maybe take home a guy to further rid herself of her numerous frustrations. Little did she know that the one-night stand with Bucky would turn into so much more than that.

Tell Me What You Want by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve Rogers x Reader; Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mob boyfriend, is none other than Steve Rogers and he is willing to get you whatever you wanted, all you have to do is ask. And be careful what you ask for because he’s going to give it to you over and over again.

To Have & To Hold by @slyyywriting » Bucky Barnes x Mob Boss!Reader — Bucky is trying his best to provide and care for his daughter who just entered first grade. Everything was alright until she asks why everyone else seems to have a mom except for her. You’re just a plain mob boss who wants to turn a new leaf. Challenges arise when the world refuses to let you take a softer, non-violent route. A little girl helps you navigate a compromise.(series)

✨ Mob!Sugar Daddy!Stucky Moodboard by @brattycherubwrites » Mob!Stucky x Reader

✨ Laced Around Your Throat by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve x Reader, Mafia!Bucky x Reader — Your Mob boyfriend knows that the only thing that looks even better than his hand around your throat is his custom made necklace. You’re his girl and the world needs to know it.

✨ Hidden Gems by @jtargaryen18 » Mob!Steve Rogers x Mob!Daughter Reader — Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

Necessary Arrangements by @stargazingfangirl18 » Andy Barber x Fem!Reader, Ari Levinson x (Different) Fem! Reader ft. Ransom Drysdale » One of my favorite series, chapters are decent sized and the smut is so good!

Hugs My Love by @thatfuckingweirdo » Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Reader — You just really need a hug, and Bucky is the only one you want it from.

my old man is a tough man, but he got a soul as sweet as blood red jam by @cloudystevie » Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader — steve gives you what you want… kind of.

Brooklyn Wars by @world-of-aus » Stucky x Reader

Petals and Bullets by @revengingbarnes » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader (One of my all time favorites series)

I would check out @sinner-as-saint’s Masterlist they have quite a few Mob!Bucky series and one-shots that I have loved in the past.

Special by @buckycuddlebuddy » Bucky Barnes x Reader — this one-shot is really hot.

Love, Honor, and Obey by @constantwriter85 » Bucky Barnes — This one is good and I need to catch up on.

Mafioso by @captain-barnes-writes » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Please do yourself a favor and read.

Lipstick and Crayons by @oneoftheprettynerds » Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader - In Progress

A really good DarkMob!Steve Drabble called Please Hurt Me by @gotnofucks *chefs kiss*

The Mobster’s Little Girl by @smutsonian » Steve Rogers x Reader

off to the races 🐻 off to the races 2 by @harryspet » Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader

The Ignorant Beauty & the Beast by @mysterioh » Steve Rogers x Reader – With 21 parts sadly it hasn’t been updated in 8 months, it’s one of my favorite Mob!Steve Roger fics out there. *Thanks to @inactivewhore I found out this story was moved to AO3 and is now called where angels fear to tread it was last updated on 13/11/20*

What It Takes by @cherienymphe » Bucky Barnes x Reader — You left Bucky once you found out who he really is. The one thing you thought would guarantee your safety ends up sealing your fate.

Welcome Home by @punani » Chris Evans x Black!Reader — He’s been away for awhile, but he knows that his girl’s loyalty to him knows no bounds. Knows she’s been waiting for him after her adamancy in telling him there was no other option. It’s only right to make the reunion a memorable one. | So, so, so, so freaking good!

These are what I found on Tumblr that I plan on reading.

Handmaid by @extremelyblackandwhite » Sebastian Stan x ingenue!Reader — y/n works as a handmaid for the daughter of an influential mob leader who is promised to the new boss of the most powerful mob family in new york, sebastian.

AO3 Website Reccomendations

Satellite Heart » Stucky x Reader — You used to be Steve and Bucky's girl. Then they fucking left without saying goodbye. Little did they know, you were pregnant. But life went on. You raised your Talia to the best of your ability. But one day, everything goes to shit. Now your boys are back in your life. And they're not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Little Fox A/B/O Series » Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Soft!Dark Natasha Romanoff x OFC! & Peter Parker x Soft!Dark Tony Stark — So I can’t stress this enough you need to read the tags for this series and I kept getting confused as I read this story as to how old Violet Mason is. But this series takes you on a roller coaster, I like it, my cousin didn’t finish it, I need to catch up.

Pelmeni *finished* » Stucky x Reader — James Bucky Barnes has a good life, as a member of a powerful organized crime syndicate. His best friend Steve is a member too and his literal partner in crime. Bucky's got a problem though. You. His longtime love and secret girlfriend. Unfortunately, your father is his boss and has plans for you that involve normal life. Steve has a problem too. Steve wants in on your relationship and more than the semi-regular/occasional steamy threesomes. You don't have a problem, you're just busy with a big mob wedding coming up, which means a big celebration, that you're busy catering for.

Dying For This Love » Dark!Bucky x Reader — That was before. When you were Bucky’s girl. Now, you have a score to settle. That’s why you’re wearing Bucky’s favorite red satin dress, the one with the cuts that reach right up to the tops of your thighs, the tennis necklace he gifted you for your anniversary, and are fresh off of a mani/pedi and hair appointment. He’s going to regret the day he fucked with you. | This one is intense and a tad bit dark, but the smut is good.

off to the races » Steve Rogers x Reader — In which you call the kingpin your Daddy.

The Mobster’s Little Girl » Steve Rogers x Reader — what happens when the big bad mobster gets blackmailed by your father to marry you? (kind of fluffy kind of not. kinda dark kinda not.)

Brooklyn Sweethearts » Dark!Stucky x Reader — Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise. | Probably one of my all time favorite Mafia!Stucky stories I have ever read, just sadly it also hasn’t been updated in like 8 months and I keep hoping it will get updated.

Hot Doll » Skinny!MobBoss Steve Rogers x Reader — Steve Rogers is on the rise in the New York underground as you’re trying to keep your own place there. | Dark and good!

Doctor Doctor » Steve Rogers x PlusSize! Reader — (1940 Mobster AU!) You're a war widow down on her luck; and the King of Brooklyn, Steve Rogers, takes notice. | Another one of my favorites. A little bit dark as well.

The Widow » Dark!MobBoss x Reader — It’s the 1920s and everyone’s having a roaring time but you. | Trust me it’s just dark enough.

Those are just some on AO3, I would just go through Mafia AU tag and go to filter and click Avengers or Captain America.

[dwaeki]

— felix as ur bf (random headcanons)

pairing: felix x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none other than maybe some slip ups and just poorly written fluff, not proofread, lower case intended!!!

a/n: i'm just bored and need to post so i decided to make this at like 3AM 😩🤝🏻 genuinely dont knownwhat i was writing here but i went with the flow so 😞

ok lets completely disregard the fact that felix is my ult and i am absolutely whipped for him.

he doesn't sleep early at night especially if he had a bad day at practice or made a lot of mistakes while trying to memorize the choreography to one of their new songs,

so he usually stays up for a little while playing video games on his PC while you sleep over at the dorms.

you're most likely there sitting on his lap, sleeping peacefully while your boyfriend tries to restrain himself from raging and absolutely destroying his expensive keyboard </3

(p.s he has a keyboard that lights up. most likely rainbow cuz idk HE GIVES OFF THOSE VIBES.)

the first time you sat on his lap while he was playing games he just fell in love with that idea

the feeling of your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you rest your head in the crook of his neck is just :(( y/n ure making him feel so loved :((

he's just rlly comfortable and feels at peace.

also when he feels a bit too overwhelmed or just frustrated he stops the game for a little while and wraps his arms around you tightly while inhaling your scent :((

he feels better right away <33

but you dont know that bcuz ure ✨asleep✨

but if he's feeling particularly tired he just plays on his phone

while you're both in bed, cuddling <33

PLUSHIES !! you guys collect a bunch of plushies <3

he likes plushies a lot so if u like plushies too you guys are just a perfect duo. you two are always on a look out for stuffed animals,

felix keeps a bunch of cents in his pockets just in case u find something.

if one of u spots a claw machine outside while you're going out or during an arcade date you're going to drop whatever you were doing before and literally run, leap, fly towards its direction.

"Y/N A CLAW MACHINE !!!!" "OH MY GOD GOGOOGOGO RUN FELIX GO DONT LET THE KID GET THERE BEFORE WE DO"

you two are competitive as hell when it comes to winning a stuffed animal & believe me felix doesnt go easy on you

especially if youre a sour loser cuz he teases you a lot.

it starts off with u two being competitive but ends with the both of you basically throwing all of your money away just to get a single plushie.

one time u hogged the claw machine for a little too long and you didnt even notice the line of kids waiting for the two of u to finally leave for good.

yeah... ure banned from using the claw machine at one of the arcades ... 😬✋🏻

he also lays his head on your lap... a lot.

he just loves feeling close to you so if he's sleepy and wants cuddles he usually just lays his head on your thighs (no matter the shape or size cuz we love all kinds of thighs here, love <3) , grabs your hand and plays with ur fingers.

you already get the message so you're quick to get up and move to the bedroom to cuddle

but if you don't get the message then he starts pouting and sighing dramatically, waiting for u to take the hint

but if ure still not budging then he just lifts you up and quite literally throws you onto the bed so you two can cuddle

(one time u bounced off the bed and hurt your arm... felix almost cried...)

he grumbles a bunch of incoherent words while getting under the covers

squeezes the living soul out of you the second he's under the covers. like ure literally left soulless.

HE'S LITERALLY A HUMAN HEATER SO BEWARE WHEN U CUDDLE IN THE SUMMER !!!

felix doesnt rlly have a favorite position to cuddle in, he likes any and every.

he loves being the big spoon, he loves being the small spoon

but he also rlly loves cuddling face-to-face <33 or maybe ur head buried in his chest :((

loves placing kithes all over your face or pecking your lips during cuddle sessions.

yeah... he's a sucker for physical contact 😚😚

he's also SO whipped for you you don't even understand.

everyone around him can tell that he absolutely adores you and everything you do

one time jeongin mentioned how utterly in love he was and how "disgusting & painful" it was to watch you two interact 😔

and felix was low-key like HELL YEAH IM WHIPPED AND IM PROUD !!!

doesnt care if anyone points out how much he loves u & doesn't deny it either bcuz YEAH!! HE DOES INDEED LOVE U VERY MUCH!!! WHAT ABOUT IT!?!?!!

he also gives the best presents !

he just always knows what to buy anyone he's very close with and the list ofc includes you :D bcuz youre his lover mwuah <3

buys you the best birthday presents, anniversary presents, holiday presents.

it's because he's observant !!

especially when it comes to you. if you eye an expensive outfit that you can't really afford at the moment or there's a fancy restaurant you want to go to, he will keep it in the back of his mind and will take it into consideration ;))

there doesn't have to be a special occurance for felix to surprise you with a present !!

even if the present he's getting you is pretty expensive its still for u and he wants to make u feel as appreciated and as loved as he can. so wasting money on you is never a problem as long as you're happy :((

the fact that he is observant also comes in handy a lot, because he can tell when you're uncomfortable by the small changes in the way you act like the furrowing of your eyebrows or you shift even closer to him, etc.

if it's a public space or an event where you have to socialize and interact with others and he notices you feeling uncomfortable he will take you to a less crowded place to give u a bunch of kisses and reassure you that everything will be just fine <3

he also knows what you like and dislike very well, so it's easier to avoid any arguments in your relationship.

virtual dates !!

he takes you on a bunch of dates on minecraft, roblox, animal crossing etc.

the dates usually happen while he's away on a tour and you two really miss each other </3

the first time he went on a tour he just really really really missed you and your voice

so he called you on discord and suggested that you play minecraft together. you created a new world and just started everything from the scratch.

so every time felix goes on tour you guys call on discord, get on minecraft and add new things to your world <33

your world includes but is not limited to: a huge pink mansion with a pretty backyard filled with flowers, a dog named "seungmo" and a cat named "lino" (as felix suggested you named them ✋🏻)

he once told you that one day you two are gonna get married (if you're willing to ofc) and live a perfect life just like in your minecraft world :((

even tho it was over the top to assume that you two would live in a gigantic pink mansion, it was still endearing and it made your heart melt <3

he really wants to spend the rest of his life with you because he knows you're the one :(