#i have a lot of new interests now but damn those were some good times.

[ellecdc]

Legs-for-days Lupin

hockey player!Remus Lupin x team medic!reader who didn't account for Remus' shorts [1.3k words]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

CW: fem!reader, guys teasing each other about their place of origin (all in good fun - shout out to Sweden and Russia), suggestive -> nothing happens in the fic but it's very clear what has taken place and readers mind strays to...less then polite places for a moment -> mature content, viewer discretion is advised

It’s not that either of you had been keeping it a secret, per se, but rather that you were keeping it quiet. 

The league was aware. Or, at least they knew as much as they needed to know when you and Remus requested that his on-going care be transferred to one of the other league doctors citing a conflict of interest in your own care of the athlete. 

So they may not know, but… they knew.

The coach knew and the PT knew as well as a few other members of the coaching staff, but the equipment manager, the media team, and the general manager didn’t know.

Oh, and the team.

The team didn’t know either. 

You had worried that it would be hard, especially when things were still so new between the two of you, spending extended periods of time in each other’s company without exchanging heated gazes or hungry exchanges. But, after years of working in medicine, you found it was very easy to put your team scrubs on and see Remus as just another one of the boys you were treating - an athlete you were responsible for, a body to heal.

Out of those scrubs though? Well, that was a completely different story. 

Turns out you should have been a little more careful in your shared time together sans scrubs. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang the fuck on!” James shouted as he pulled his headphones away from his ears to rest on his neck, jumping to place one foot on either side of the treadmill before hitting the stop button. 

You - alert in the gym should anyone get hurt - uncrossed your legs and sat at attention, concerned that you might be needed 

“What the fuck is that, Lupin?” He continued with a breathy laugh, causing Remus to remove his own headphones and cock an eyebrow at his teammate. 

“Fuckin’ Potter, always chirpin’.” Benji snickered to Sirius who snorted in return.

“What’re you on about now, Cap?” Sirius called over. 

“Look at Lupin’s leg!” He nearly shrilled, causing Benji to cackle.

“Spend a lot of time oggling your teammate’s legs, Potts?” Caradoc taunted as he slowed his stride on the treadmill next to James’ to a walk. 

“No, just Lupin’s. Can you blame him though? Fuckin’ look at them; they go on for days.” Benji called over, making a show of stretching his neck as if it was necessary to fully appreciate Remus’ legs, causing Remus to toss a balled up sweaty towel at him. 

“Fuck off, the lot of you.” Remus laughed at the same time James started sputtering.

“Look! On his thigh! He-”

“Chirst Potts, you’ve got it bad.” Wood interjected.

“- looks like he’s been mauled and fuck off, Wood!” James finished despite the interjection.

And, much to your horror, everyone did look at Remus’ thigh and now that you were too, you couldn’t even appreciate the well defined muscles from years of skating, cardio, and weight training, nor the way they shined a little with sweat from today’s workout, nor the way that he was sitting on the weight bench which caused those shorts - already a little short for a man with legs so long - to ride up sinfully further due to the fact that there was a well-defined and blatantly obvious love bite sucked into the soft skin of his inner thigh. 

“Holy shit! Did ya find yourself a baby shark or something, Loops? And why’d you let it so close to your crotch?” Benji called over causing everyone to hoot and holler at him. 

“Fuck off.” Remus laughed with a shake of his head as he tried to adjust his shorts in an attempt at some modesty - it was all for naught. 

“I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone! And damn, she’s gotta a fuckin’ mouth on her, eh?” Sirius added as he came to lean against the side of James’ treadmill in favour of his third set. 

“Okay, debate about whether or not you’re dating a vampire aside - blink twice if you need help - how’d you even find time to receive that hickey? We’ve been on the road for almost two weeks!” Potter grilled then, pausing for the briefest of moments should Remus need to blink, which he did not.

“None of your fuckin’ business, that’s how.” Remus commented dryly, though you could see his tongue in his cheek as he tried to suppress his own laughter. You thanked the hockey gods that the blush Remus was currently donning could be explained away by the exertion from his work out, but you knew it was different, you knew the signs. 

You knew exactly how far that blush went when you whispered how beautiful his eyes were. You knew the way his breath hitched - perhaps even which rib it got stuck under - when you brushed the pad of your thumb just below his waist band sitting on his hips. You knew the sound that left his kiss bruised lips when you sucked that mark into his leg; no shorts impeding your view of his very impressive body, watching the golden colour of his eyes eclipse behind pupil as he watched you reverently. 

You knew that blush probably went right to his chest, past the pretty pink nipples you’d also spent some time suc-

“No fuckin’ fair! How’s Loops finding chicks on the road? He doesn’t even go to the bars with us!” Benji whined. 

“Don’t have to.” Remus shrugged. “Look at me, I’m gorgeous.” 

“Oh, I’m sure the hotel staff were just throwing themselves at you.” Sirius sneered, though his smile proved it was all for show. 

“Just make sure not to do it in front of doc, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt her feelings.” James called as he turned his treadmill back on, causing you to choke on the drink of water you’d opted to take instead of either salivating over your - boyfriend? Could you call him that? - or chewing nervously at your lip, convinced that everyone was onto you.

“Why me?” You barely managed without shrieking. 

James offered you a casual shrug of his shoulders. “We all know you love the Swedes.” 

“I don’t love the Swedes.” You retorted, though a few of the guys were cackling at your expense.

“Everyone loves Swedes!” Isak Grönvall called excitedly. “Vänaste land uppå jord!” [a/n: lyric from the national anthem of Sweden, believe it translates to "loveliest land upon earth"]

“No.” Krum grunted then as he let the weights fall to the ground. “Everyone love Russia.”

“No one loves Russia, Krum.” Benji offered with faux consolation as he patted him roughly on the back.

“Why not? Is most good!” 

“We’re getting a little off track here.” James butt in. 

“I think you’ve gotta let it go cap, Loops just doesn’t like you like that.” Sirius stage whispered. “Besides, we’re going to make doc jealous if we keep pointing it out.”

“Black!” You barked. “Back to your machine; ten more reps.”

“Ten!?” 

“Ten.” You confirmed. 

Sirius looked just about ready to succumb to his fate before a flash of hope danced across his features. “Wait…you can’t tell me what to do in here, you’re not my coach!”

“Coach Moody?” You called calmly. 

“Ten more reps, Black.” Moody gruffed without looking up from the gameplay board in his hands. 

Sirius groaned.

“You too, Lupin.” 

The gym erupted into laughter. 

You tried to will your cheeks to cool down as you returned your focus to the notes in your hand when you felt your phone vibrate.

[Remus]: Are you happy, now? You’ve gotten me in trouble. 

You looked over in a way you hoped appeared casual to see Remus smirking down at his phone in his lap.

[You]: It’s not my fault at all. 

[Remus]: No? Whose fault is it then?

[You]: Yours! Those shorts are fuckin sinful.

[Remus]: So is that mouth of yours. 

You felt a sinful smirk take over your face.

[You]: Really? You didn’t seem to mind much last night. 

Remus shook his head and readjusted himself in his seat. 

[Remus]: No…I really, REALLY didn’t.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

I am massively busy with work and finalizing my Big Bang, but this idea just won't leave...

Steve and Eddie are both actors. They're in their mid thirties, well established, but they never starred together in anything. Steve tends to be cast in the same type, the dumb but pretty love interest, Eddie has lots of indie and disturbing movies under his belt. But this time, they both landed something big.

They get cast in the new Batman movie.

Steve is, of course, Batman. He insists on doing his own stunts. He refuses to get dehydrated for his shirtless scenes because he knows how damaging it is to both young men and women alike, he's not going to contribute to shitty expectations. The director (Dustin, duh!) sees something in him other directors never have - a potential for depth, for internal turmoil. He gives Steve the chance to prove himself as an actor and Steve pounces on it.

He's still very hot.

Eddie is cast as the Joker. He is a fan of the comics and scoffs at how absurd and deranged the character is becoming. He gets hired because he immediately says he doesn't think the character needs to rely on cheap tricks and shock value to be terrifying. Cutting off his face? Not cool. He suggests to play the Joker according to one of the older comics he has - one where the Joker is actually absolutely sane, but hides it to never be held accountable for his actions. The only person who ever saw through his ruse was Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Joker took care of that issue very quickly.

The chemistry between Steve and Eddie on screen is insane. They go toe to toe, it's impossible to look away when they interact. Eddie utilizes his bright smile to the maximum, tweaking it just right within moments so it becomes unsettling. The first time he laughs, Steve gets goosebumps.

Steve encompasses Bruce's loneliness so well Eddie's heart breaks for him. Dustin finds him in the trailer, giving himself gentle slaps over the face and muttering "you're evil, damn it, you don't want to comfort the Bat!!".

Batgirl (Robin) and Harley Quinn (Chrissy) find their slow descent into love hilarious. They all become good friends on the set.

Hopper, an acting veteran who plays Commissioner Gordon, grasps Steve's shoulder after an intense fight scene and mutters: "Good job, Steve, but maybe don't stare at his lips so much?"

Robin doesn't give him the same courtesy and once Dustin yells "Cut!", she screeches: "NOW KISS!"

The movie is a hit. People love the cast and the story, some of the OG fans complain as they always do, but the ratings are great, there are many interviews, panels, all of that.

And of course, there's gossip about Steve and Eddie being a thing, which enrages the macho Batman fanbase. Their Batman isn't gay!

But the rumors quickly disappear after an award ceremony where Eddie is nominated for the best supporting actor. He wins, of course. And as he gets up to accept the small statue and deliver a speech with enough "fuck"s to give the censor a headache, he drags Steve up and kisses him in front of the whole world.

A week later, Steve and Eddie are together in front of a camera again, answering questions in an interview.

The host asks: "What do you say to those fans that are disappointed, who say that their Batman isn't gay?"

Steve just snorts, pulls Eddie closer and answers: "They're right. Their Batman isn't gay. But he's definitely bi."

Also the comic story I'm mentioning exits and is short but fantastic. 10/10 recommend.

Oh also. The first spark happens when Steve sees Eddie's hair and blurts out: "Please tell me they're not making you cut it shorter. It's too gorgeous for that."

Also because people were asking about the comics - it's Batman Black and White - Case Study and it can be found on Tumblr HERE

[strawberryvanillafrosting]

success life story ♡

heyy i'm here to share about my success story, the beginning is only before i started manifesting and about when i just started, all my success are on the very end of the blog, so feel free to skip directly at it if you're not interest by all the rambling !

have a good read ☆

michiko is so pretty, i've literally been told so many times i looked liker <3

the old story that i don’t live in anymore

okay so before i didn’t hate my life, at all, but i just found very dull and so poor of entertaining like it was just too fucking regular and repetitive.also a bit depressing. i thought of myself of such an unlucky girl before and i was like affirming all the fucking time that i was unlucky and guess what? everything really used to go the way i didn’t want it to go every single damn time and i’d be like i knew it im so unlucky boo-hoo.

same for the money i would just go every single fucking day rambling to my friends how poor i was and how i wanted money so bad and the same story every single fucking for days, weeks, months.

i really wanted a new appartement and my own room cause i used to share same room as my sister and it really was getting on my nerves, i had no privacy and place for myself. the apartment was small, my mum always kept complaining about it and then she would argue about my dad about it but the reason why we couldn’t move out despite trying for several months was cause my dad had whole lotta debts and my mom had a really low paying and hard job she was exhausted and, it was quiet hard to see them being this unhappy and they still tried their hardest to make us happy so i really wanted to get back at them.

about social life i had very few friends and barely went out, i'd say probably one time a month. and i really wanted to get that life of the party, and those big ass friends group and also i was crazy desperate about having black friends cause i am black and literally the only black out here without none of black friends and i felt pretty left out like wtf am i the only black girl with no black friends cause all of them (that's so dumb tho.. ) were friends and gets invited to the most fun hangouts and i was embarrassingly jealous of that and also complained a lot about it…and kept asking tf was wrong with me.

STRONGLY on this one : i wanted a relationship so bad and i kept hating and being sad to those couple on tiktok’s. one time i actually cried cuz i wanted a boys’s love so bad like i was craving it so bad. i was in such despair state before..cringy ahh ☠️

i used to be rlly insecure about my looks too even tho at some moments i felt more confident, i kept comparing myself and waisting dozens of minutes enumerating my "flaws ". i knew about manifestation but not really about law of assumption , for me manifesting was really all about listening to subliminals, method and scripting. we all once knew that phase yeah? i used to manifest from time to time but then would just give up again,since i was not seeing results and so on. so useful wow.and then there’s the others things like mediocre grades, poor family health, just constant tiredness and fatigue feeling,

tw : mention of being depressed,sh,ed, : felt empty like life had absolutely no meaning, suicidal thoughts, tried to end by over-consumption of medication, self-harm and bulimia, constant complaining and NEGATIVE ONLY mindset.

but now, NOW i tell you ever single thing i’ve just listed changed completely like every single damn thing i’ve just listed is no more, it’s out of the date, dead, buried and no longer existing !

it clicked

then at some point at my life i was just like. yk what? fuck i just wanna change it all. then i really like really  got into it all over again and for good. no more 1 week i try then giving up cause i ain’t seeing no « results ».

i watched hours and hours of ppl talking about loa (i’m not saying you should do this at all it’s just that i was very under-informed and wanted to know everything about loa)on youtube, shoutout to rita kaminski and hyler who really put me into it and informed me. then i started reading neville’s pdf books, and tumblr blogs, kinda overconsuming but i liked getting myself informed.

and then that’s where everything started and that i got aware of all the power i actually hold. all the things i actually can do just cause of my mind. i wrote down all my wishes in present tense ,like every single aspect i wanted to change/have in my life. and i started fully living in the end like really got myself into and at first of course, wavering from time to time in the beginning. it was pretty easy for me since i was used to manifestation.but what i didn’t do before is persist no matter what and that’s what was really tricky for me in the beginning to persist no matter what and not just give up to bullshit 3D. but when i kept moving forward no matter the 3D and made it facts the only my 4D matters and everything has already happened, ALL and every single wish down to the last one flowed into my life. ONE by ONE every single hour of the day i would get my manifestations down to the last letter i wrote in my notes.every single thing

success storyy

in a matter of few weeks like really 3 week-ish like- 1 month max.

starting off LUCK i’m extremely lucky now every single time i play gambling activities i win. i’ve won insane amounts at scratch cards i think i’ve won in total more than 5’000$. JUST FROM SCRATCH CARDS.and before i started i NEVER EVER WON. now whenever i play there’s not one time that i’ll win absolutely nothing even just a small prize

won huge lottery prize (from 200 to 12k the biggest i’ve won yet)

winning a gambling games, either online or dice rolling luck,bets, bingos etc.. its literally insane every one keep telling that i literally has got god’s blessing (i’m the god guys🥰)

financially freedom, my parents upgraded jobs and i’ve got lots of incomes + the money my parents give me 

all the debts my dad had, he got rid of ALL of them and when i tell you mf had a lot of em☠️

move out in a new huge ass condo which is a duplex (like really like i wrote it it’s actually scary how powerful we are..) I’VE FINALLY GOT MY OWN ROOM and we’re getting my desired furnitures and decorating the house i’m so grateful

friends and popularity i think biggest shock for me is really this. like my social life has gone from very paisible to completely fully booked and passioning life. like seriously i’ve been to more parties, concerts, birthdays, and hangouts during the last 2 weeks holidays than in my entire life

got lot of new friends, healthy relationships and quality time passed on lots of fun activities and sm memories

black groups friend. WITH AN S.so thankful to myself to be this good a manifestation i litteraly got into a black friend group of girls and i’ve never felt more at my place and understood this much. and these girls know the black group boys (when i tell you that 2y ago they were the person that i wanted to be close with so bad..also they’re really hot and funny lol)so we hung out with them and i was literally so highlighted and became pretty much friends with all of them !! 

my man. HELLO I LITERALLY MANIFESTED MY DREAM RELATIONSHIP? when i met him i didn’t actually realize right on the spot that he was exactly how i wanted him to be and reading back to when i scripted out all the things i wanted at the beginning, everything matched. he’s literally physically and mentally the man of my dream LIKE REALLY. we’re no bf and gf YET cause it’s just a little soon but we see each others super often and we have the best relationship ever i swear it’s giving wattpad. the flirting is crazyyy.

dream bod.from head to toe my desired body. heavy on the lower body all for that azz and wide hips.ive got smooth and clear skin and smell good all the time!! litteraly flawless face + got my braces which suits so much and dimples

plenty of vacations (went to ibiza, usa and dubai )

lenient parents they use to be so strict before i swear its crazy they let me go so easily now, i can hangout without asking 3 days ,like they accept even if i've gotta go in the next hour or if wanna go on trip that's in another country. i can come back home so much later too

attractive & magnetic aura + being really charismatic (everyone i met keep telling me i’ve got this thing that really makes them want me, get closer to me)

good grades without doing much

perfect self-concept - as i kept living 24/7 in the state of wish fulfilled, my self concept only got better making me really know what i’m worth and never wavering/ going back to the old story

whole ass pc set up

all of my desired skincare/makeups/shoes/clothes

and so much more...

outro

i hope y'all liked my blog and that it motivated some of you to NEVER GIVE UP cause y'all are reallyy some powerful mfs and y'all already got all of yours desires !!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ honey kisses, shayama

[i-like-what-this-says-about-you]

every episode of house md part 3

high school teacher: alright class settle down, it is time for chemistry!

the students moan

random student #1: please mr roberts can we just use this period to do homework

mr roberts: no, chemistry is important, you see-

mr roberts starts choking

random student #2: oh my god! someone get him some water!

mr roberts stops choking

mr roberts: sorry about that folks, moving on-

mr roberts falls to the ground, unconscious

*** house and wilson are walking together

house: wilson, my guy, you are wearing a nice tie. you must be cheating on your wife

wilson: you’re just trying to find a way to compliment my tie without seeming nice. so, thank you. anyway, i have this case. high school chemistry teacher keeps randomly choking on nothing.

house: so? he has anderson’s choking disease

wilson: no, it doesn’t only occur when he’s sleeping. not anderson’s.

there is a brief moment of homoerotically staring and grinning at each other

house: ok, i’ll take it.

he grabs the file

***

house: ok people, new case. man can’t stop choking!

cameron: hmmm… can’t be andersons…

foreman: could it be cancer in his throat?

house: that only shows up for a minute or two every few days?

chase: longmedicalnameadocis!

house: good thinking, test for that, in the mean time start him on fancydrugname.

*** in the clinic

house sighs, pops a few vicodin, and enters a clinic room

clinic patient: my knees hurt.

house takes a good hard look at the patient. he’s ancient. every inch of him is wrinkled. his head has only a few surviving white hairs. next to him is who house assumes is his daughter.

house (sarcastically): hhhmmm… now this is a hard one.

daughter: please take him seriously! just a week ago it seemed like he was way younger! he had barely any wrinkles, he was running 4 miles a day- he was healthy and fit! something’s up!

the patient coughs and begins to struggle to breathe. he takes out an inhaler.

daughter: a week ago he didn’t need an inhaler. now he’s using it multiple times a day!

house (not sarcastically this time): interesting… i want to run a few tests.

*** in the office

foreman: fancydrugname made him worse.

house: chase you idiot you were way wrong.

chase: 😣😣🥺🥺

house writes the new symptoms on the board

foreman: i think it’s neurological.

house: okay, what neurological disorder could cause this?

foreman thinks in contemplation

cameron: insertanotherlongmedicalnamehere?

chase: there’s no treatment for that.

house: wrong. we can do surgery

foreman: surgery?

house: take out part of his brain

*** cuddy’s office

cuddy (angry): NO! you cannot cut into this man’s brain with no proof! it’s a rare condition, most people with it die and this treatment has never been used for the condition before!

house: i have proof.

cuddy: oh really?

house: yes. i think it will work and i’m always right.

cuddy shakes her head

cuddy: no.

*** in the clinic, same patient as before

daughter: please tell me you know what’s wrong with him.

the patient has a bag of almonds in his hand. he is shoveling handfuls of them into his mouth

house: jeez, that’s a lot of almonds- **epiphany moment** house: i have to go!!

daughter: what? what about my dad!!!

house (from out the clinic room): get him to stop eating all those damn almonds!!

*** mr roberts’ room

house: have you been exposed to large amounts of almonds recently?

mr roberts: yes, my son just started working at an almond factory.

house: aha! my proof!

house leaves, leaving mr roberts confused and in distress

*** mr roberts gets the surgery and is cured

once again, wilson and house are walking together. wilson is eating almonds

wilson: want one?

[c0sm1c-c01nc1dence]

Red

✧ Pairing: Hunter x human!reader ✧

✧ Content/warnings: Soulmate AU, takes place during season 3, use of the word ‘damn’ once, the title is bland and I’m sorry, Hunter and the reader are both dorks, first post on here!! ✧

The “rules” for soulmates, as it were, were pretty straightforward. You see everything in the color of your soulmates eyes. Once you make eye contact with them you can see in full, proper colors. Seems simple enough, doesn’t it? Well, not for you, it wasn’t.

You, for the past sixteen or so years of your life, had been seeing nothing but red. Different shades, thank god, but red nonetheless. And to be frank, you were getting pretty damn fed up with it. The thing is that no one naturally has red eyes. And you would know; you’ve googled it maybe a thousand times already.

So you were fairly certain you didn’t have a soulmate, and this was all some cruel joke from the universe. But life marches on, so there’s no time to dwell on that, is there?

───── ───── ───── ─────

Another day at Gravesfield’s high school, bland as ever. At least until you caught a glance at your friend Luz. Rather, former friend. She’d been acting weird ever since she came back from that ‘reality check’ camp. And not standard Luz weird, no— she’d been avoiding you since then. Acting like she didn’t know you at all whenever you approached her, not to mention her sudden lack of interest in anything she used to like. The Good Witch Azura books, most notably.

So, needless to say, you were a bit surprised at her new look. Curly hair, a new scar over her eyebrow, and a general air of seasonal depression about her. Even though your recent interactions hadn’t gone so smoothly, you couldn’t help but ask. You were still allowed to care about her.

“Luz?” You called out from down the school hallway. She turned her head in your direction, and you could practically see the stars in her eyes when she saw you. She ran towards you, almost tackling you in a hug. Stumbling backwards, you hesitantly returned the gesture. “Good to see you too?” You awkwardly pat her back, unsure of what to do at the moment.

“Y/N, I am so glad to see you! Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” She backed away and wiped a small tear from her eye.

“We saw each other yesterday, though?” You chuckled, still perplexed by this whole situation. “Seriously, what’s going on? You’re kinda acting like you just came back from war right now.” Her face fell slightly, but her smile quickly returned.

“Meet me at my house once school’s done, ok? I have… a lot to tell you.” You nodded, and watched her just walk away casually after that interaction.

“Cool. Good talk, I guess?”

───── ───── ───── ─────

“So, if I’m following,” You began, now in the Noceda family’s living room. “You didn’t go to summer camp, but instead spent several months in a fantasy world, and the Luz I’ve been interacting with is actually a shape-shifting basilisk.” You pointed to Vee, who nodded shyly. “And in this fantasy world you became a witch, made a bunch of new friends, and got a girlfriend.” You left out the details involving Belos and the Collector, deciding that you didn’t need to recap whatever nonsense was going on there.

“Yeah, actually. You’re handling this surprisingly well.” Luz noted.

“I think I’m still in shock, to be honest.” You laugh a bit in disbelief. You couldn’t begin to comprehend what she’d been through during those months, and you kind of didn’t want to. “So, more importantly, do I get to meet these new people?” You questioned, and her face brightened.

“Of course! They’re upstairs, so let me go get them and I’ll be right back.” You waited downstairs with Vee, exchanging basic small talk. She apologized for the whole ‘impersonating one of your few friends’ thing, which was nice of her. Eventually Luz came back, new friends and girlfriend following behind her.

“Alright! Everyone this is Y/N.” You gave a polite wave, quickly scanning over the group. “Y/N, this is Willow, Gus, Amity, and Hunter.” You got a proper look at all of them as she said their names, your eyes landing on the blond last. Wait a minute, blond?!

As it would turn out, when you made eye contact with Hunter you could suddenly see a lot more colors. He clearly noticed this as well, as a light blush was present on his cheeks and ears. You could feel some heat rise to your own face as well.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Luz asked, noticing your stunned silence.

“I, uh…” you stumbled over your words like an idiot, still staring at him. Saving what little dignity you had left, your phone dinged from your pocket. Checking the notification, you gave an awkward smile and held it up to the group. “Oh! You know what, that’s my dad. He probably wants me home for dinner!” You put your phone back in your pocket, and began approaching the door. “I’ll see you guys later, okay, bye!”

You got the words out as quickly as you could, and bolted as soon as the door was open. You ran back to your house, face still flushed from embarrassment and being generally flustered, leaving a room full of witches (and one human) awfully confused.

“Hunter, what was that about?” Willow asked, as he still stared at the spot where you once were.

“Um- good question.”

───── ───── ───── ─────

Later that day, Hunter knocked on the door to Luz’s bedroom.

“Come in.” She said idly, distracted by whatever she had been playing on her Switch. He entered her room, hands anxiously fidgeting at his sides. There wasn’t a particularly easy way to say this, so he just bit the bullet.

“So, you know the whole thing with your soulmate, and how you’ll only see in their eye color until you make eye contact?”

“Yeah?” She encouraged, curiosity evident in her tone.

“Well, it’s possible that maybe, perhaps, Y/Nismysoulmate.”

“What?!” She immediately paused her game, and whipped around to face him. “Really?! Tell me everything!” She sat on the ground and patted the spot next to her, encouraging him to sit down. He did so, face red from having to explain the whole ordeal.

“There’s nothing to tell! I used to only see e/c, I looked at them, now I can see every color, and they— I always thought your hair was black, by the way— and they just ran away!” As Luz sat and processed this information, Hunter continued thinking out loud. “Did they not like me or something? Is it because I’m from the Boiling Isles?” He questioned, grabbing the pointed tips of his ears. Cutting his rambling short, Luz spoke up.

“No, I don’t think so. They were always interested in fantasy like I was. Maybe they were just a bit overwhelmed?” She suggested. He sighed.

“I guess that could have been it.” He said, though the anxiety was still clear on his face.

“Hey, how about I try to get them to come over this weekend? You guys can talk about it then.” He nodded, and watched her grab her phone to message you. Titan, he hoped she was right about this.

───── ───── ───── ─────

A few days had gone by since the whole incident with Hunter. You had been avoiding him since then, though you honestly weren’t sure why. If you had to, though, you’d say it was probably out of shock. I mean, you were convinced you didn’t have a soulmate for years. And now this incredibly good-looking boy comes in from another realm, and he’s supposedly perfect for you? It’s absurd!

Though it was also worry. How would a relationship between the two of you even work out? He’d have to go home eventually, and you probably couldn’t come with him. Maybe he wouldn’t even like you after the way you left the other day, and he’d reject you before you even had a chance. That’d put a quick and easy end to all this.

You’d been really sick of the color red these past couple days. You usually were, but now it was for an entirely different reason.

Though you couldn’t avoid your problems forever, despite your best efforts. Luz had invited you over for a board game night to celebrate the two of you reuniting. And, well… who were you to say no?

───── ───── ───── ─────

The day finally came, and it had been going relatively well so far. No one else seemed to know what had happened or why you left that first time you came over. Though you and Hunter had been carefully dancing around each other the whole time. It seemed neither of you were equipped to talk about your feelings at the moment. But were you really ever?

Eventually you saw him slip out the front door. With a sigh, you decided to finally face the problem. No use in stalling any more than you already have. After telling Luz that you were going outside for a moment, you stepped out and saw Hunter sitting on the steps leading to the front door. He turned around at the noise, and immediately turned back the other way when he saw it was you. Wordlessly, you sat down next to him. After a moment, he finally broke the silence.

“You look really nice.” You glanced at him, and saw the pink dusting his face. You smiled at the way his blush would spill out onto his ears.

“Thanks, but I’m not really wearing anything special.”

“I know,” He continued, finally meeting your eyes. “I just mean, like- you look nice. You’re really cute.”

“Oh.” You said, quite simply, now blushing a bit as well. You looked at the ground beneath you, pondering how exactly to go about this. “So, this whole ‘soulmate’ thing, huh?”

“Yeah.” Was all he managed. His hands toyed with his pants, still a bit nervous about this whole ordeal. Unable to find the words he wanted, Hunter just looked out at the surrounding neighborhood for a bit. Eventually, though, he said the one thing that was on his mind at the moment. “So… what do we do now?”

“Well, if I may suggest something scandalous?” His blush deepened at your words, but quickly faded as he watched you intertwine your hand with his own.

“Wow, and we’re not even married yet.” He joked. You put your free hand up defensively.

“I know, I know! What can I say, I like to live on the edge.” He laughed, and you silently basked in the sound. You set your eyes on the sky above you, a handful of stars already visible in the late evening’s light. Maybe red isn’t half bad after all.

[thehaberdasheress]

Great news! After a ton of work, I've got my business's 2024 Kickstarter up and running! It's live now until Sunday, November 17.

I have a lot of projects underway that this project will help me see to fruition, including:

Embroidery/historical costume kits with good materials and accessible instructions

A digital sewing pattern for what can be a partlet, if you're feeling nerdy, or a way to bring damn cool sleeves to whatever outfit you want if we're being modern about it

A system of patterns and stencils that bring intricate freehand Elizabethan embroidery down from (imo) terrifying complexity to an accessible art project

And/yet/also, I know myself. I am a bit of an ADHD chaos goblin with chronic pain. So I've learned from Kickstarters past, and made sure to center the campaign around rewards that I can be certain of delivering. That is, this campaign absolutely will include vouchers for free or discounted copies of those projects if they're funded and they happen! But I know they will take time and definitely not arrive by Christmas 2024.

Therefore: I've been designing a bunch of new items that I can be sure of! I wanted to be able to show off my embroidery patterns in new and interesting ways, and find different methods of fulfillment that are ready to roll out the moment the campaign ends and I get your shipping information.

If you've ever wanted to get all the unique patterns I design for my Etsy shop in a charted PDF format? Backing my Kickstarter is the way you get that.

Some of my most popular designs will be available as decorative stickers, paper bullet journal-style productivity stickers, and a mug!

There are a lot of others, and I'll probably detail more about them over the next week and a half, but it's past 4am so I'll keep this relatively short. The outlines are up on the Kickstarter. Here's the one I'm the most excited about:

Motherfucking CUSTOM-WOVEN throw blankets!

I made the design myself, as the intersection of my obsessions with medieval celestial ceilings, sacred geometry, marine navigation, Tolkienian Elvish heraldry, and quilting. It's called "Mariner's Star", and I'm incredibly excited about it. If you don't know about jacquard looms and how they were 19th century punch card proto-computers, I think you're missing out.

Kickstarter link here!

It ends Sunday, Nov 17!

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#394

This is a direct follow up to story Story #387 and Story #389.

“Come sit between my legs….  So you are Tim Stone’s fag son.  Sit….  No no.  Don’t ease down.  I want you to sit like you don’t have a gigantic plug in your cunt.  Get up and sit back down hard….

“That’s better.  I should have looked at your plug first.  Get up and bend over.  Let me see it….  Damn, Lloyd really loves his big plugs. 

“Go ahead and sit back down.  And sit down normally….  Damn looks like you are in pain.  Aww that’s too bad.  Shut up with the groaning.  It makes it hard to enjoy my scotch.  Here take my glass and go refresh it.  Yeah, get up.

“…I see Lloyd has one of his pecker cages on you.  Bryce has asked me to take it off for tomorrow.  He has a lot planned for you on his return. 

“I go for the Macallan.  It’s a tall bottle that’s wider on top and narrower at the base.  Put two ice cubes in first, then fill it up to where the second cube is covered.  And bring me my shirt.

“…No don’t sit yet.  That cage needs to come off.  Reach into my shirt pocket and get the key out….

“Give it to me and present your pecker to me.  I don’t know why Lloyd loves these things.  It denies a perfectly good punishment tool.  Look at these balls.  One good smack… like that, and it sends a message to the fag.  I can get the same reaction if I were to swat your pecker.

“Have a seat.  Here comes my boy.

“Hey boy.  Did you give the paperwork to Master Lloyd?  Good.  So, this is the new faggot.

“Hey faggot.  This is my boy.  Both of you are at the bottom of the slave hierarchy, but know this, he outranks you.  He craves being treated the lowest of lows, and I wouldn’t want him any other way.  But he outranks you.

“Boy, did Master Lloyd plug you?...  Let me see.

“Fuck that’s hot.  Faggot, stand next to boy then bend over in his same position.  I want to see those two plugged cunts side-by-side….  Fuck!  You two are pretty.  Nice plump asses with a large plug shoved into your cunts.  What’s nice about these plugs are they are made with a hook in the base that allows weights or chains to be secured to.

“Let’s have some fun. ��Go inside to the playroom. 

“…Interesting.  You two are the exact same size, although boy has a plumper ass.

“Faggot, has Lloyd said anything about your hair?...  No?  I’m surprised.

“Boy, when I am done, you will remain here and shave faggot free of every hair on his body below his nose.  Leave his eyebrows and lashes.  Clip the hair on his head to a number 2 guard.  You know I can’t stand hairdos on a slave.

“Here’s a good enough spot.  I want you both to get on all fours facing away from each other….  Back into each other so those cunt plugs touch.

“Good.  Now move a few inches away from the other.  Like that.

“Ok faggots, I have a three-foot heavy chain here.  I have attached it to each of your cunt plugs.  It’s simple.  It’s a tug-o-war.  Your goal is to pull the plug out of the other’s cunt.  Loser gets beat.  I got this new belt over in Munich and I’m interested in trying it out on some slave skin.

“Go!

“Fuck yeah!  The other reason why I love these plugs Lloyd chose is because they are narrow at the base and very fat.  So you are finding out that they are difficult… and painful… to pull out against your will.

“Work harder!  Pull you mother fuckers!  Pull! 

“No, no faggot!  Get that hand away from that table leg.  You can’t reach for anything. 

“…What the fuck are you doing faggot?  Your collar is shocking you?  Too bad.  It wasn’t me.  You keep forgetting that one of us can shock your collar at any time.  They probably saw you on the closed live video feed trying to cheat. 

“AM I RIGHT?

“I’ll take that second jolt to your collar as a yes.

“Oh look at what you did.  You were too fucking focused on being shocked that you relaxed your cunt.  Boy wins.

“Jesus!  Look at that gape!  Faggot, stick your cunt up high.  Boy, pull his cheeks apart.  I want whoever is watching to see. 

“…Well that shock to the collar is telling me they like it.

“It’s going to look good for tomorrow.

“Boy!  I know you want in there.  You have one minute.  And while you are in there, shit out your plug.

“Faggot, my boy is eating your gape not as a reward to you, but rather for him.  For some reason, the boy likes eating out gaping holes. 

“No, you are going to get the punishment you deserve.  We need you welted up as well.

“…And here’s the tiny little device I was looking for.  Haven’t used one of these in a while. 

“Ok slaves.  Get up and stand here.  Facing each other.  Real close.  Why don’t the two of you start kissing each other?  Get those tongues going.  Put your arms around each other’s waist and pull in.  I want your crotches to be smashed into each other….  Like that.

“Both of you hold still.  Keep in mind I have both your ball sacks and their contents in my hand.  Don’t pull back or they will all be yanked off.  You got that?

“…Faggot, did you hear what my boy said?  He said, ‘Sir! Yes Sir!’  I better start hearing that coming from you.  You understand?...  That’s better. 

“I have just put your ball sacks and the useless nuts they carry into the same ball cuff.  It’s designed to only have one set secured.  There’s no way for a single ball to get through.  You two are attached to each other.  Don’t fall because you will rip both sets of balls off.

“Get back to French kissing each other.  This clip will connect your collars together and keep you in that kissing pose.

“Now don’t fall.  No matter where the belt will strike, you want to remain standing.  And I’m going to be aiming for the flesh in front of me.  I don’t care where it lands or even who.

“Let’s begin.  Got you both!  Scream into each other’s mouth.  Oh yeah.  That’s it; save yourself by twisting the other into the strike. 

“Keep those hands away!  Damn!  This is fun….  Fag!  That’s going to leave one hell of a welt.

“Hands up!

“…Well that was close.  You two almost took a tumble. 

“Let’s do this.  Put your hands above your head.  Point your wrist cuffs inward….

“…Almost got it.  There!  You two are now secured to that winch.  And with a few button pushes, you are stretched high and standing on your tip toes.

“Wow.  That looks hot…. 

“…With your bodies stretched like that, it’s going to hurt even more!  Fuck that is going to be one nasty welt on your back faggot.

“You are going to be covered head-to-toe in welts by the time Bryce returns.  You’ll be shaved smooth with a slave haircut.  Your cunt is going to be one giant gape.  He’s going to love seeing the mess that you have become.

“Oh yes, our own CEO is going to play with you next.  And he’s bringing a guest.  Yup, your dad is going to see his son for the first time in weeks.  Despite what Lloyd told you early on in order to get you to agree to submit to us, your dad was never told about how big the pain pig piss drinking sperm burping fag you are. I can't wait to see his reaction.

“You are going to need a lot more welts though.  Fuck yeah!  A lot more welts.”

This story continues in Story #400

[tokiwarcube]

How are the boys when their s/o is away on a trip for a while? Like which ones call constantly? Which ones are calm? Any have separation anxiety?

This was fun to think about, and very well timed! +Charles as well -- Enjoy! <3

Charles Foster Offdensen

Have fun for him, won’t you? Charles will absolutely miss you while you’re gone — with the lives you share, you don’t always have too much time to spend together, not to say that he won’t miss the time you do get — but he’s happy that you’ll be having a good time. His biggest worry is about your safety, but that’s nothing a few Klokateers can’t fix.

He looks forward to your nightly phone call more than ever — after a long day of running around, his steady voice is so nice to listen to. And you know, it’s funny — he’s already less stiff around you, but over the phone, he’s a little more willing to just be a bit silly. Especially as time goes on. Maybe it’s because of the distance that comes with a call. Maybe he just misses you.

And he’d be lying if he didn’t pay just a little bit more attention to the vibration of his phone, just in case you send him a text or a photo. He might not respond immediately, but he does look forward to hearing from you.

He does find himself thinking of you often — certain colors, trinkets, your interests… he’ll text you about them every now and then, just to let you know you’re in his thoughts.

Please send him a postcard or two, if you’re able. He likes physical items like that, especially if you scrawl a little note on the back.

10/10, he’ll be sure to take you on a nice date when you get home to make up for lost time.

Nathan Explosion

Listen, Nathan isn’t the most talkative man on Earth. Or in the States. Or in Mordhaus. Or, anywhere, really. No, his way of showing love is through spending time together. He loves getting up in the afternoon morning with you, going through your morning routine, watching you pick out your outfits… loves to just you know, exist with you. He thought he was going to be fine while you were gone, but everyone in a 30mi radius could tell he was not.

Spoiler alert: He is not.

He’s awkward on phonecalls, and is abysmal on videocalls (can’t hold a phone straight to save his life), so while he will 100% try, he’s not… he’s not great. But you know, just keep him updated with your daily activities — send photos of your adventures, of your outfit choices in the morning, of the random shit you found in the shops… it makes him feel just a little less alone. And he’ll try to do the same, even if the photos are always weirdly out of focus. He does better at the random voice notes he’ll send to you — now those, those make you feel more at home. It’s usually just some random thing he’s been thinking of — maybe it’s a random verse he’s been noodling at, maybe it’s an idea for some new too-expensive project, maybe it’s just some random thought that won’t leave him alone. But they mean a lot.

Other than that, he does fairly decent at distracting himself — if there was any time for a good-old friender-bender, it’s now.

5/10, Pickles is doing his damndest to keep him away from the tequila.

Pickles the Drummer

He’s been preparing for this day from the moment you put it on the calendar. He just knows he’s going to be horrific, going to spin himself in circles, going to chew his own arm off, and—

He’s actually fine. He thought he was going to be shaking like a chihuahua in your absence, but all things considered, he’s actually pretty damn okay! I mean yeah, he looks forward to your call at night, and he gets a bit sad if you ever have to miss it, but he’s not basing his entire day around the void your absence has made. Part of that comes from the photos you send throughout the day — he knows you haven’t just fucked off and abandoned him, which honestly, was his biggest worry. The other half of his nonchalance comes with his lifestyle. I wouldn’t say he’s drinking more now that you’re gone, but also… he’s bored. He’s not drinking himself to death, mind you, it’s just… Pickles.

He for sure gets a bit sappier when he’s really under the influence — he will be showing photos of your adventures to anyone who will listen. And to anyone who won’t. He’s glad you’re having a good time, genuinely.

Might as well go on a good old friender-bender while he has the time, though.

9/10, surprisingly normal, but someone should really look into his liver — how it hasn’t shut down by now is anyone’s guess.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

When its time for your trip, he thinks he’s gonna do great in your absence. Love you to death, but it’ll be nice to play guitar in the middle of the night again without having to worry about waking you up. And he can finally watch that horror movie you said he’d hate because for some reason you’re convinced that he hates them. Oh! And he can finally try his hand at drinking Nathan under the table again, and—

He has a whole list of stupid shit planned out, and he doesn’t even make it an hour before he’s smacked with a very crushing loneliness. He finds himself turning to murmur to you, only to have your usual space just… empty.

The weight of your absence is stunning, and he refuses to admit how much he misses you. But you can take a guess, with how much he draws out your midnight phonecalls. And really, its hard to keep up the dirty talk for that long without getting cliche— how about you just tell him about your day?

4/10, emotionally constipated Swedish man ends up in ER with repetitive strain injuries to the fingers and wrist, more news at 10:00.

Toki Wartooth

Toki considers himself to be fairly adaptable. I mean sure, he misses you half to death, but he can function without you. Plus, he always has his memory boxes and scrapbooks for when he’s particularly longing, and he always has the ability to call!

By which I mean, he’s calling you almost any chance he gets. But to be fair, that’s not too much different from when you’re at home — he just likes to talk to you. He keeps you updated on all of the shenanigans at Mordhaus, so you never really feel too far from home. But now that you’re off on your own adventure, he wants to hear all about it! Please send him photos!

Genuinely, he does great at surviving without you. That is, until it comes time to sleep — he didn’t realize how good you were at keeping the nightmares at bay. Expect a slightly longer call at night — he probably won’t tell you about the nightmares, but he does get a bit whinier about you coming home.

8/10, surprisingly adaptable, but please bring him a trinket. No, it does not matter that he could buy every item in the country thrice over — he would still like a little trinket.

William Murderface

He does not miss you, he’s just buying a casket and writing his will because it’s a fun, Tuesday activity.

Okay, he’s lying, he misses you so fucking much it’s unreal. It just feels weird to, you know, say it like that. He’d be calling you 24/7 if you weren’t out and about, living your life. So instead, he texts. There’s no obligation to respond immediately, mind you… but a few updates here and there would be deeply appreciated.

He tries his absolute best to distract himself while you’re gone — maybe Planet Piss will finally get it’s first EP down (false) — with varying success. His chief method of distraction comes to hanging out with the band… and the boys are texting you by the end of the week to please come home, because they’re having to beat him off with a stick. He’s also weirdly agitated with everyone but you, which certainly doesn’t help matters… but on the phone, he’s just as soft as could be.

3/10, he’s going to chew his own leg off at this rate. Someone save him, please.

[pumpkinbxtch]

hi! I love your Apollo fics sm can I please request a fic we’re the reader is Percy’s older sister and she finds out there’s like a prophecy of her marrying Apollo and then like they eventually meet and fall and love and then what there marriage is like

𓇼 the sun & the sea 𓇼 〰✷〰

— apollo / lester x daughter of poseidon!reader

— part i | part ii | part iii | part iv |

☆ radiostar is playin': hot rod by dayglow...!

summary: There is a prophecy waiting for you to listen to it and although it may not be something you expect or consider possible. You know what they say about prophecies…they can't fail to come true.

warnings: none BUT long read, literally. got out of hand and i couldn't stop writing. that's bad? oh, fuck me, i'm sorry. a/n: i appreciate your request, thank you (although I think I changed it a little, sorry). HEAR ME OUT I feel like I owe a lot of love to those who love Apollo, so that's why I didn't entertain the idea of ​​making this long. Hope you like I know it's long, but I promise I did my best to make it bearable and fun, I swear. 😭

“The sea and the sun are not far away as they look…”

They told you to stay away from the attic of The Big House, but they never told you why.

“Only he can go up”, they said, and it seemed stupid to you because he was your younger brother; you were supposed to protect him.

“It's very dangerous”, they told you while Annabeth went up, even though you were a couple of years older than her.

“Only if you lead some quest, but…” but no, because as the years went by, they made sure to remind you of your place. They told you that you were powerful, smart, and capable, because, yes, you were Poseidon's firstborn, but not the chosen one. That was Percy, your brother. Did it hurt? Yes, as an older sister, you tend to aspire to greatness and be an example, but you didn't die; you got over it.

“What does it matter? Less work for me” you said as you watched your brother's back on all the missions. Anyway, you ended up stuck in his destiny.

“His destiny. But then, what's mine?” you wondered. Then, when you took a step near Rachel Dare's cave, they stopped you too.

“It's–”

“Dangerous.” You completed the familiar phrase with a look of disgust, avoiding Chiron's eyes. He just looked at you with pity, thinking to himself that if you went in there, you could cause more trouble for your father or Olympus… Or everyone; it would be a war among all the Olympians, something they didn't need with Titan Kronos already on their heels.

Dionysus gave you his typical mocking smile, the same one that made you want to grab the can of Diet Coke and throw it right at his disgusting Christmas-reindeer-red nose.

“It would be so interesting, but we don't need it,” he said as he dragged you away from Rachel with Chiron.

You weren't stupid, you knew there was some good reason. But damn, those fossils were sneaky and never let you get to your redheaded companion, who also avoided you like the plague. Between those two things, you never managed to achieve it. Even less so after you ended up fighting on the Argo II with your new friends, straight from real Greece.

Oh, man, if you had thought Kronos was a damn old grump, Gaea was an old ball-buster. You didn't even have time to think about your future when you didn't know if you had one.

After the second war is when you started to throw in the towel about the future. You realized that the last thing you wanted to know at that moment was whether you would have to fight against twelve more Titans, return to Tartarus, or travel to Alaska again.

New Rome became your new home, and you only waited for Percy to catch up with you along with everyone else. That is, until you returned home to pack new things and didn't find your brother studying just as he should be.

— Mom? — You asked when she came back from shopping.

She gave you that look, and you cursed.

— Relax, he'll be back in a while; he just went to drop off Apollo or well, now he's Lester because apparently he's no longer a god but Zeus…

— Wow. Wait, what?

As a hero of Olympus, touching, seeing, or talking to the gods was never impossible for you; in fact, it was much more usual for your taste, and although you had been through too much already, that was new. So, you found yourself immediately traveling to Long Island Sound on the back of a Pegasus, looking for your brother. You wouldn't let Apollo, Lester, or whatever he called himself now take your brother away to distract him with his godly stuff that surely wouldn't lead to anything good.

— Where's Percy?! — You shouted in the dining hall, making the campers flinch.

Chiron got up from his seat, and from there, he smiled at you, but it only put you in a worse mood.

— Dear, it's been a long journey. Please, sit and eat with us.

You lowered your head without taking your eyes off Chiron and tightened the dagger on your belt. There was no reason for it, you knew, but you couldn't help feeling that fury after knowing everything you had been through. Percy deserved a break.

— Where's my brother? — The pause between words made the campers squirm in their uncomfortable seats. They had heard about you, about everyone. to be exact, in the third lesson of history in their camp classes.

— He left Apollo and Meg in a field not far from here — Chiron decided to sit back down and began to spread the tablecloth nervously. — He probably should have already reached home while you were flying here.

You sighed, and as you relaxed your body, everyone seemed to feel relieved.

— He has exams, Chiron — He nodded, and you made your way to the table where he was.

— In fact, there are problems, and apparently, he promised to come back this weekend — Your eyebrows furrowed again, and Dionysus laughed.

— Girl, shouldn't you be in New Rome?

— I went home for a few more things, also taking the opportunity to see my family, and it turns out that my little brother was helping an ex god who can't fend for himself, risking his studies. — You replied without looking at him — And speaking of brothers, you should control yours, Mr. D.

The god of wine snorted, and you formed a mocking smile. — Insolent.

— Miss Jackson — Chiron intervened, and you softened your gaze toward him — You can stay tonight, you know you're welcome and after all, it's too late to travel on Pegasus.

You didn't argue with them; you'd never put your pegasus in danger. So, for the first time in a long time, you returned to your cabin, the same one you shared with Percy and Tyson for so many years, and you had to admit that you missed him. At dawn, you were preparing to travel, and you left at the moment you thought no one was watching you, how wrong you were because a few meters away, Apollo was hidden behind the cabin piles, admiring you from afar.

— She… — He felt his heart tighten, and his gaze unfocused. He cursed his mortal body for how weak it was.

— Pervert! — Meg shouted, alerting the other campers who turned confused, and Apollo blushed.

— Shut up, I'm not a pervert — He smiled exaggeratedly at the others, pretending a smile and letting them know that everything was fine.

— You saw her — Said a voice behind him once Meg was far enough away to hear. The brunette turned and smiled sheepishly.

— For a second — Apollo replied, avoiding his old friend's gaze; embarrassment nibbled at his body, and it became evident once his cheeks glowed.

Chiron had never seen him… like that, so young, embarrassed, and notably imperfect, but despite Apollo's opinions about his recent change, he thought it suited him well, even found it amusing.

— You remember…

— I remember it well, Chiron — Apollo blushed even more — That's why I didn't approach her; dealing with my father's wrath is enough. Now I don't want to annoy Poseidon or I'll probably wake up dead on the lake shore tomorrow.

He played with the tips of his sneakers as buried them in the rocks on the floor; he looked like a scared little boy, but Chiron didn't judge him.

— I think you know what it means when she's around when you're close.

The ex god didn't want to pay attention, but he knew he was right.

— Although I remember who she is… there’s a problem. I don't remember how to avoid her…— Apollo's blue eyes looked directly at Chiron's, and the urgency on his face told him he was telling the truth. — If I don't know now, it's going to be harder; all I can do is hide if she's near.

— We've lasted many years with this circus, and as much as I respect the lord of the seas, I don't think this will last long. And you know what's more stubborn than a son of the sea god?

— The sea god — Apollo raised his eyebrows in annoyance, and Chiron resisted rolling his eyes.

— Fate, Apollo. You know it well, things are written. The prophecy is still there; it exists, and all we've done is delay the inevitable.

The brunette nodded with annoyance and waved his hand dismissively.

Although he wanted to pretend that he didn't care, the anxiety of what was to come ate at him. He knew very well that it wouldn't take long for you to discover what all these years had been hidden from you. If Apollo reflected better on that, he wasn't sure he wanted to continue keeping it to himself, either, 'cause those years had been torture for him. Yeah, he knew that you weren't yet mature enough for your mind to be stained with the weight of a prophecy that, unlike the others, not had to do with some quest or some imminent danger that threatened the entire world; but now you are in college, he couldn't wait for you to know.

The thing was, your father thought that the one who could be in danger was you, his precious daughter since Apollo was selfish, arrogant, and immature to have been around for eons. Poseidon could not fully explain the reason The Fates had woven such a destiny for you. So, until things had and could happen at the right time, in the right way, he warned Apollo to be close to you and he knew so well that be such an idiot idea to make him angry.

Before his thoughts could swallow him, Apollo shake them off and sigh to Chiron.

— Right now, I have a bigger problem. I think we've found something.

— Where?

— Here — Chiron frowned, and Apollo looked towards the camp's forest. — My dear friend, you have the Grove of Dodona here, in your playground.

Apollo didn't know that of all the decisions he had made in his life, avoid you was the best one he could make, because even if you had met that day or before, with the things that were about to happen to him, he wouldn't come back as half the man he was.

“Things at the moment, in time” the fates whispered in some place.

[highdefhoetry]

Just for the night.

cw: nsfw!! female reader, lots of sexual tension and buildup, casual sex/hookup, premature ejaculation, oral sex (vaginal), blowjobs, penetration (brief vaginal fingering & penis in vagina), spanking, biting, light breast play/nipple sucking, cumming in mouth, missionary and doggy style, creampie, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, no use of (y/n)

summary: a wayfaring group of pirates come into your tavern while you're on the clock, and a certain swordsman catches your eye.

author's note: i JUST started watching one piece and i've only made it to the reverse mountain arc, this fic takes place sometime in between arlong park and loungetown!

It had been an interesting night at work. The town was throwing some kind of festival, quite common during this time of the year, and the bar had been nonstop busy ever since your boss had opened the doors. You lost count long ago of how many beers you’d poured, how many wooden kegs you’d refilled, how many plates of piping hot food you’d served, and how many times you’d avoided unwanted groping from eager hands. You’d earned some good money, though, which almost made it worthwhile. 

The most interesting part of the night, however, were the new faces who’d shown up earlier that evening. A ragtag group who claimed to be pirates had come into the tavern for a drink and a good time after getting wind of the local festivities, joining the celebration that had begun a couple hours ago. The self-proclaimed captain of the weirdos, a rubber man donning a straw hat and flip flops, had joined some of the patron in a meat eating contest and was currently on his way to beat the reigning champ. His navigator, a young redhead with a charming smile and big, bright eyes, was schmoozing some poor bastard who was too drunk to notice her slipping his wallet out of his pocket. Then there was the blonde Frenchman, a casanova type who was hitting on a few of your giggling coworkers. A cigarette dangles from his lips, which he ashes on the floor. 

Truly, they were the definition of a motley crew.

It’s now halfway through your shift, and orders have died down considerably. Most of the patrons are passed out at their tables while others are being carried home by their companions. The tavern is still pretty lively, but you manage to sneak away for a moment and catch a breather. You pour yourself a cup of water and take a sip as you watch the chaos unfold. 

As you continue looking around, silently observing the chaotic scene, the sight of sea green catches your eye. You notice a stern-looking man mulling in the far corner, sipping on a giant mug with a frown. He looks a bit out of place, but you remember seeing him come in with those straw hat freaks earlier. You hear the rubber man call out to him, something about a dance-off or whatever, and the green-haired man barks out a loud “No!” before crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall again with a scowl.

Very interesting, indeed. 

Who could this man be?

“Are you serious?! That’s the Roronoa Zoro?”

“I’m not lying!! Look at his waist, don’t you see those swords he’s carrying? Only Roronoa Zoro uses the three sword technique! It has to be him!”

The annoying, high pitched voices of your coworkers garners your attention. You turn to look at the three frightened waitresses, who are currently huddled behind the bar in an attempt to avoid the scowling man’s gaze. 

“Someone’s gotta bring him his sake. He ordered it like an hour ago.”

“No way. I’m not going near him! He’ll probably kill me just for looking at him!”

“Well I’m not going over there! I’m not risking my life for a few dollars.”

It was the perfect excuse to approach him. You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance as you grab the tray from their hands.

“Fine. I’ll go. You damn scaredy cats.”

Your comment earns a few glares, but you pay them no mind. You fill the giant mug with sake and waltz over to the sullen swordsman. Someone starts playing the accordion; someone else grabs a fiddle. The tavern turns into a dance floor, and its drunk patrons cry out in excitement while they fall over one another trying to get there.

You approach this so-called Roronoa Zoro, but before you can get a word out, he says,

“I’m not going to dance, if that’s what you came to ask me.”

You raise a brow in confusion. “What?”

“You came all the way over here to talk to me, didn’t you? I can tell you got somethin’ you wanna ask. Get it over with already and stop wasting my time.”

Was this guy for real? You scoff and slam the tray down on the table in front of him.

“You ordered sake, didn’t you?”

He narrows his eyes. “How’d you know that?”

“I work here?”

You give him a perplexed look, and he responds with a wide-eyed stare before mentally facepalming himself. He grabs the mug from the tray and mutters a “took you long enough” before taking a huge gulp. 

Up close, you can see more of his features. He was tall, handsome, and quite muscular. His skin was tan, kissed by the sun after many days spent traveling the seas. He donned three gold dangling earrings in his left ear and had a black cloth tied around his forearm. His muscled arms bulged in his thin white shirt, and you could see a thin sheet of sweat on his exposed chest. Then, of course, there was that odd seagreen colored hair, which, as far as you could tell, was completely natural. You’d never seen anyone who looked like him before, and it intrigued you deeply. You couldn’t stop staring, even when he caught you looking from the corner of his eye.

“I take it you’re not a fan of dancing?” you ask in a weak attempt to make conversation.

He grunts in response. With arms crossed again, he lets out a sigh and gazes at the crowd on the dance floor, his expression cold and unfriendly.

He must not have been a fan of talking, either. You’re about to leave when suddenly your eyes meet, and his gaze captures your attention. Those eyes… something about them made it impossible to look away. They were deep chesnut brown, and held both a fiery passion and a deep sadness that tugged at your heartstrings…

“What’s the matter? Is there somethin’ on my face?”

The gruff voice snaps you out of it. You shake your head vigorously.

“No! It’s just… you’re not from around here, are you?”

He scoffs, shifting in place.

“No. I’m not.”

“You must be with that weird pirate crew who came in earlier.”

“Yup. That’s my idiot captain over there,” he juts his chin in the same direction as the straw hat man, who was laughing and jumping around like a little kid. You stifle a laugh, wondering how the hell these two ended up on the same crew together. 

“And you are?”

“Roronoa Zoro. His right hand man.”

So your coworkers were right, after all. You’d never heard of him, but apparently he was well-known. You didn’t see why they were so scared of him, though. He seemed like a regular guy, apart from the three swords and grumpiness.

“Well? Are you gonna tell me your name or what?”

“Oh!” You snap yourself out of it and tell him your name. He grunts again.

“Huh. That’s fitting.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’. Nevermind.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face. Subtle, but noticeable. That must’ve been his strange way of teasing you. You decide to let it go for now.

“Why are you sulking around back here? Don’t you wanna join in on the fun?” you ask, keeping your tone light and playful.

Zoro raises an eyebrow and takes another sip of his sake, his eyes fixated on the lively crowd.

“Too loud in there… Luffy’s laugh gives me a headache.”

“Yeah, it has gotten a bit rowdy. Tends to happen at this time of night.”

He nods in agreement. “So… don’t you need to get back to work or somethin’?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No,” he murmurs. “Just wouldn’t want you to get caught slacking off.”

You give him a cheeky little smile. “I’m hiding. It’s been crazy busy all night and I need a breather.”

He grunts again, leaning back against the wall.

“I don’t blame you… I hide from Luffy quite often.”

He says it with a smirk, but chuckles when he looks over at Luffy and the others. He was acting like he was irritated, yet he spoke of his captain with fondness and admiration. You could tell he cared about him deeply, despite his grievances. It gave you a warm fuzzy feeling that made you smile again.

“My shift’s almost over, anyway. And most of the other waitresses are caught up with that French guy over there,” You point at the blonde guy on the other side of the room, who’s still surrounded by your swooning coworkers. 

“Tch. Typical.”

The conversation lulls again, but it feels less awkward this time. You lean back against the wall, mirroring his body language, and go back to being a silent observer. He appears to do the same. He seems a bit more relaxed, though. He’s not as closed off as he was before you started speaking.

“Soooo… how’s the sake?”

He glances over at you, sets the mug on the table.

“Actually, it’s very good. I’m liking it a lot. Been awhile since I’ve had the good stuff.”

Your eyes dart to his drink. “I’ve never had that kind before.”

“You want some…?”

“Don’t mind if I do!”

You grab the mug before he can say another word and take a huge swig. It goes down smoother than you thought it would. The taste is light and refreshing, the perfect drink to end a long night of work.

“Damn, that’s good sake! I can’t believe I haven’t tried it until now!”

He chuckles quietly, a small smile creeping up his face. It was kinda cute. Made him look even more handsome. Although his grumpy scowl was cute in its own way, too.

“You have good taste.”

“Mind if I have another?”

He gestures his hands towards the mug. “Be my guest.”

The two of you hit it off, chatting about this and that for some time while the party raged on around you. The sound of lively chatter fell to the background as you inched closer to one another, until it felt like you were the only ones in the room. As the night went on, more and more people started to head home, except for a few of the regulars and the straw hats who lingered in the main room. By the time your coworkers started closing up, you were already pretty buzzed from the egregious amount of sake you’d had. You reach for the bottle again but realize it’s empty.

“...Ah, sorry, I drank a lot of your sake…” you frown, feeling a little guilty for drinking most of his order. “Want me to grab you another one? It’ll be on the house.”

“Eh, it’s fine. But thanks,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he turns towards you, towering over your head with one arm braced on the wall beside your head. “I’m sure.”

He’s so close. You wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is beating. The smell of sea salt and sweaty man wafts in the air. His eyes bore into you, analyzing your face and body, as if he’s waiting for your next move.

“So…” you start, rubbing your lips together. “Did you all get rooms here for the night?”

“We did. Why?”

You shrug, trying to force back a smile.

“Just wondering.”

He raises an eyebrow, looks you up and down.

“If you wanna see me so bad, you don’t need to be coy about asking.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure ya don’t.”

Pause. Something crashes down on the floor; you both look just in time to see Luffy falling down with a large meat bone sticking out of his mouth. You splutter out a laugh, but are silenced when a strong hand takes your chin and pulls it back towards Zoro, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“You’re not being very honest,” he growls, and your heart skips a beat.

“That’s rich, coming from a pirate,” you bite back, hiding how flustered you are behind a bratty facade.

“...Hah, touché.”

He lets go of your chin, but keeps his eyes on you. There seems to be an impasse. The two of you dance around your subtle attempts to flirt, as if waiting to see which one will misstep first. The tension was so thick you felt like you could reach out and touch it with your hand. Those beautiful brown eyes of his gaze deeply into your own, never faltering for even a second.

“It’s getting late,” he says.

“It sure is,” you respond, breath hitching in your chest. “Do you need an escort to your room?”

His eyes grow wide for a moment, then he lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. 

“Now you decide to be bold.”

He gets off the wall and nods his head toward the staircase leading up to the guest rooms. You move to follow him, but stand up a little too quickly and feel a rush of blood go to your head, stumbling as you take a step forward. He catches you, grabbing your waist with his strong hands before you can fall.

“Jeez, are you really that drunk?” he grumbles, placing your arm across his shoulders and steadying you with an arm wrapped around the small of your back. You’re really not that drunk, but there’s nothing wrong with a little white lie and some bad acting to get close to someone, right?

“Shut up…” you mumble. “I just drank it too fast, that’s all.”

His firm hand, his strong arms carrying you, his low baritone voice growling in your ear… he really was handsome… or maybe it was the sake getting to your head. Either way, you feel your cheeks flush as he leads you upstairs, taking cautious steps to ensure you don’t trip and fall.

For some reason, it takes longer than it should have to get there. He stumbles around, checking each door and dragging you down every single damn hallway with you leaning against his body for balance. You start to get the sense that he doesn't know where the hell he's going. That is, until you finally stop at the last door on the left.

"Are you sure this is the right room?" you ask, suddenly feeling uncertain.

“Tch... shut up you damn lightweight…” he mumbles while fishing out his key. Once he turns the lock, you both go inside and shut the door behind you.

It’s a small, simple room, but one that serves its purpose. The bed takes up most of the space, and fortunately it’s just large enough to fit two. You plop down on the bed, still feeling a bit dizzy, and pat the empty space beside you. 

He lets out a small sigh before sitting down.

“Just so you know, it’s… been a while,” he grumbles sheepishly in a low voice, scratching the back of his head. You smile and put your hand on his thigh, slowly caressing it as you climb further and further. Your palm brushes against his crotch, where you feel his hardened cock poking through his pants.

“That’s alright. Same for me.”

You lock your gaze with his, falling silent as you both drink in the moment. Then, in tandem, the two of you lean forward. You feel his lips press against you, and the taste of sake greets your tongue. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. You respond by putting a hand on the back of his neck, gently scratching at the buzzed hair on his scalp. He moans deeply, kissing you harder. Your tongue dances with his, your teeth gently bite his bottom lip. 

Your clumsy hands fumble as you try to undo his belt buckle and zipper. Eventually he lends a hand, yanking his pants down his legs before tossing them across the room along with his heavy boots. You hear a small crash; he cringes with furrowed brows while you giggle. But your laughter dies down when you look at his newly exposed cock and see what he’s been hiding under those clothes.

He’s huge. You’re not sure how big he is, but his dick is the biggest you’ve ever seen up close. It’s not that girthy, but makes up for that in length alone. If you had to guess it was at least 8 inches. It’s slightly paler than the rest of his body, a faint shade of tan lighter than his arms and legs. And it’s almost perfectly straight, with no curves or crookedness. You watch in awe as it throbs and pulses.

Without a word, you lean forward and take him into your mouth. You start off slow, simply sucking and licking the tip, and as soon as your lips wrap around his cock he lets out a long, deep, groan of pleasure. His dick tastes salty, but clean, as if he showered recently. Hygienic, for a pirate. After teasing him for a bit, you take his member into your mouth and slowly drag your lips and tongue down his shaft…

But suddenly, he lets out a strained cry, and you feel an explosion of warmth in your mouth. His dick pulses rapidly as he lets loose his load, filling your mouth with a salty, warm taste that you swallow instinctively. It goes limp after a few seconds. He pants heavily as he pulls it from your mouth.

“...Gahhh… Sorry…” he mutters, his face turning beet red. He won’t look at you, won’t even lift his head. It was cute seeing him all embarrassed. You couldn’t be mad that he came so quickly; after all, he’d warned you ahead of time, and the fast cum gave you something of a power rush. You wanted to tease him playfully, but figured he didn’t need another bruise to his pride right now.

Instead, you grab his chin and force him to look at you. You say nothing, leaning forward to kiss him so he could taste himself on your lips. At first he’s tense and uncertain, but soon he relaxes when he realizes you’re not going to kick him while he’s down. 

The kiss gets more intense, more demanding; he grabs the back of your head and gently pulls your hair at the base of your scalp, eliciting fluttered, airy moans from your lips. He kisses across your cheek, down your jaw and neck, lips fluttering against sensitive skin. Your moans grow louder when he tears your shirt, pulling the sleeves down your shoulders to expose your breasts. A shiver runs through you as your nipples are exposed to the cool air. He takes them in his mouth, sucking and licking your areolas while his hands grope and play with your soft tits. His fingers tease the skin, stroking the undersides of your chest, playing around to see what kind of reactions he can get from you. You alternate between cries of pleasure and fits of giggles, feeling a bit overstimulated. 

He pulls away for a moment, only to bark out an order.

“Lay down.”

You comply, letting him pull your shirt and skirt down over your hips and legs so he can admire your nude body. He pauses for a second to relish the sight of your nakedness before grabbing your thighs and holding them apart. Then, he buries his handsome face in your mound, right where it belongs. You moan loudly while he kisses your folds, presses his tongue against your clit, licks the entrance to your hole. It feels so fucking good, you find yourself clawing at his scalp in attempt to grab fistfuls of his short buzzed hair. He chuckles, confidence restored now that he’s brought you to the edge. He stays there, committed to your pleasure, until he’s certain you’re ready to take him. You feel his stick one of his thick fingers inside you for a moment, gasping as he tests your wetness. He smirks down at you once he feels how slippery you are.

Your eyes glance down quickly. His dick is fully erect once more. This man got hard just from eating you out; it makes you want him even more. He leans forward, bracing himself with both arms beside your head, kissing you while guiding his cock into your pussy. You gasp again when the tip pushes inside and cry out when he shoves the rest in without warning. He quietly grunts out a raspy "fuck", and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. He lets out short, jagged breaths as he pumps himself inside you. In and out, in and out, steadily increasing in intensity and speed. The smack of your skin against his in rhythm with your moans.

He slows down after some time, panting heavily while he pulls out. His cock still throbs as he holds it, and from his expression you can tell it’s taking everything in him not to explode. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and gives you another command.

“Turn around.”

You flip onto your stomach, then raise your ass in the air for more. His lips trail a path of kisses on each cheek, biting down now and then to keep you on edge. He chuckles every time he hears your little cries, bites a little harder to see how far he can go. Then suddenly, he takes his spanks you hard with his huge hand, causing you to shriek in both pleasure and pain.

“Ouch! God damn it, warn me next time!” you turn back to glare at him, getting a cheeky grin in response. He grips your cheeks, giving you another hard smack. 

“Here’s your warning.”

You don’t bother complaining this time. It feels too fucking good. The way he’s grabbing your hips, pushing his tip inside before ramming his dick into your hole while you cry out over and over, spanking you again and again until your cheeks are reddened and sore. From this angle he’s hitting all the right spots. You feel mindless pleasure, like your brain’s gone blank and all you can think of is his deep thrusts and sexy, guttural groans. He’s quiet, yet intense, focusing entirely on fucking you as hard and deep as possible. An orgasm rips through your body, sending electrifying shocks rippling every single nerve ending, but he doesn’t stop there. He’s close, you can sense it. A few moments later he comes again, releasing another heavy load inside you. His cock throbs as his cum fills you up, and he doesn’t pull out until he’s damn finished. And when he is, he collapses on the bed next to you, with a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his bronze skin.

You roll onto your back, taking a minute to catch your breath. You listen to your own unsteady breathing along with his, enjoying the quiet moment and the leftover waves of pleasure washing over your body. After a few minutes, you turn over and start to say something before realizing he’s fast asleep. He snores quietly, arms resting behind his head as he peacefully drifts into slumber.

He looks even cuter when he’s asleep. You laugh softly and nestle yourself in a cozy spot next to him before falling asleep yourself.

—-

The next morning, you carefully unwrap yourself from him and grab your clothes lying haphazardly on the floor. You start to dress yourself, but realize your shirt’s completely wrecked thanks to Zoro’s dumbass ripping it off your shoulders last night. You mutter in irritation and grab his shirt instead. He owed you that much.

As you make your way out of the room, you take one last look at the handsome swordsman and blow him a kiss goodbye before carefully shutting the door behind you. 

You had a lot of fun, even if it was just for the night. You’ll always remember him for that. Alas, he was a pirate, and soon he’d be gone, heading back to the sea in search of adventure.

But he would always know where to find you. 

[jeansplaytoy]

‘ 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 .

you took interest in someone you never thought you would.

arminxreader, black!reader, 90s highschool based, language throughout, sexual references throughout (maybe not in this chapter), hood themed, mental /some physical abuse, armin referred to as ‘white boy armin’, all characters are 18+ except for the ones that obviously aren’t and in the beginning, NO PROOFREAD YALL.

“aye, white boy.”

“white boy armin!”

“you’re a disappointment, armin.”

“mommy loves you, armin. okay?”

he lived up to those same words and phrases everyday, nothing new. it’s just the way he lived. growing up from hearing his mom and dad argue every single damn day, shits annoying. especially when the attention moved on to him.

and he was only 12.

“you don’t know what he goes through at school, or even here, because you’re not around enough!” that was his mom.

“i don’t give a shit what happens at school or here. i don’t want him to grow up like the rest of the kids on these streets. look at where we fuckin live, woman! you actually think he’s gonna have fun here?” that was his dad. he hates his dad. he was always yelling, and drinking, and yelling again.

but armin was quiet. he didn’t really get to have a say in things, but even when he did, he didn’t say anything.

“yo, armin! can you come out today?” eren asked, across the street of armin’s house. he stood up and glanced back at his house, shrugging.

and then there were the streets. the damn hood streets where a lot of shit happens, a lot of shit was seen. but he had to be some kind of ‘privileged white boy’? no. did he wanna be? no. but he didn’t like where he lived. he only grew to like it, especially when you came into the picture.

now you were one of the girls that everyone wanted to talk to at school, the one with the good style and the good personality that every boy always wanted to kiss or date.

“this armin. he cool, real chill. he quiet but you know, you gon’ start liking him when y’all get closer.” ony said. you all walked the sidewalks together, them walking you home to make sure you were safe on the way. ‘them’ being eren, ony, and armin. eren knew armin the longest, and he would be considered to be ‘white boy eren’, but he wasn’t even from around there. he went to a different school, and fought almost everywhere he went, which is why he wasn’t from around there anymore.

“you new here or sum? or you just quiet.” you looked up at him, holding your backpack on your shoulder.

“quiet.” he muttered, looking away.

he wasn’t gonna lie when he said he didn’t really like you at first. but as years went by, it was more of you he could stand.

“boy i don’t want you. i already said that.” you looked at a boy as you closed your locker.

“bi-“

“say it. i want you to.” armin said, leaning against a locker behind the guy, making him turn around. “who the fuck you posed to be? oh. that white boy.” he scoffed.

armin raised his eyebrows.

yeah, that was his third fight that month.

and the third time his dad yelled at him in that week.

“why the hell am i gettin’ calls from the school saying you’re suspended again? see, this is why you need to stay in the damn house and be homeschooled—!”

as he kept rambling, armin closed the fridge and sighed, walking upstairs.

“don’t walk away from me when i’m fucking talking to you, arlert!” his dad slammed his beer glass down and followed armin.

“so i can’t walk and listen at the same time? ight.” armin mumbled.

“the fuck did you just say?” his dad squinted, making his way to his room.

armin turned around. “i said-“ “honey, just leave him alone. he hasn’t did anything bad, maybe he was just defending his self!” his mom rushed in the picture, but was shoved out of the way. his dad grabbed his shirt and pinned him against the wall.

“listen you little shit. you talk back to me again and i’ll break your fuckin’ face. i don’t know where you get your attitude from, but you need to shut the hell up like you did when you were younger.” his dad snapped through gritted teeth. armin’s breathing got heavy and he bit his bottom lip with a force, nearly making his own lip bleed.

“just get off of him!” his mom yelled.

his dad stared into his eyes, fuming with anger. he shoved him against the wall one last time before turning and stoping downstairs. armin stood there for a few seconds before going in his room, slamming the door behind him.

he threw his self down on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes with a slight frown. that’s when he got a text.

ony

yo u tryna hoop?

he tossed his phone down beside him and sniffed, getting up and looking through his drawers for basketball shorts and a t-shirt.

he changed his clothes and shoes, fixing his hair in the mirror before grabbing his second backpack and his phone, walking out of his room.

he went downstairs and to his kitchen, where his mom washed the dishes. “where you headed, sweetie?” she asked. “bouda hoop, Ma. ill be back tonight.” he grabbed a bottle of water and walked towards the front door. “don’t come too late.” his mom said before blowing him a kiss.

armin nodded and shut the door behind him, starting to walk out of the driveway and down the sidewalk. the walk was like 5 minutes. 5 minutes that he didn’t care about because nothing else in his life was that important.

but when he made it, it was slightly better.

“i know that ain’t white boy armin, man i heard you got suspended today.” one of his friends dapped him up. “yeah, ian worried bout that. i just wanna hoop right now.” he walked towards the basketball goal with ony, jean, and connie.

“wassup, Arm’. you ain’t been here in a minute.” connie chuckled, patting his back. “ight, let’s go.”

and there you were, sitting on the bench by yourself, simply because ony dragged you there. sasha and mikasa had extra work to do that day, so you were the only girl there. you didn’t have a problem with it tho, because you knew everyone there.

“want me to watch and he can’t even make the shot.” you whispered to yourself with a small chuckle, pulling out your phone to find something better to entertain yourself with.

after about an hour, yeah, an hour of being there for no reason, you saw someone coming over to you. you looked up to see armin. he sat at the bench, a few inches away from you, wiping his sweat and checking his phone.

“you good?” you frowned a little. “yeah.” he mumbled. you hummed, guessing he didn’t really wanna have a conversation with you at the moment.

“ain’t you ony girl?” he tilted his head. “i thought you was in our lil group. no, we not together.” you shook your head, watching the rest of the boys continue to play basketball.

“um, thank you for defending me or whatever at school. i hate when boys do the shit they do.” you said. “don’t even mention it.” he mumbled. you looked at him for a minute before something caught your eye. “you got a scratch.” you pointed to his finger.

“hm.” he looked at you.

you smacked your lips and pointed, grabbing his hand. “a scratch.” you said before looking closer. “oh, that’s glass. you ain’t feel that?” you asked, sitting his hand on your lap and trying to get the glass out by yourself.

he didn’t really mind it, so he let you, despite the small amounts of pain that shot through his finger every time you touched it.

“nah. not until you pointed it out.” he mumbled, leaning back.

you threw the small shard of glass under the bench and reached in your small purse, grabbing a bandaid.

“you actually keep bandaids in yo purse?” he asked. you shrugged with a small smile. “i know y’all boys be easy to scratch up.” you said, rubbing the bandaid on his finger before letting go of his hand.

armin looked at you for a few seconds before humming. “that’s prolly just me.”

you laughed and shook your head. “well. you ain’t sweating no more. you could go back out there.” you pointed, right before jean called him back on the court.

armin smacked his lips a little and nodded slowly, standing up and walking over to the rest of the boys.

you decided to watch them start playing again, glancing at a different person every time someone stole or passed the ball. it was a few minutes back in, some people took their shirts off. but only one caught your eye.

‘he that fit?’ you thought to yourself, seeing armin’s abs and arms. his arms had a little muscle, and of course he wasn’t buff buff. but it did look like he worked out a little. or more than that.

you continued to watch them play, your eyes never leaving him.

even when he glanced back at you, standing to the side of one of their dumb free throws.

his lip quirked a half smile a little before he got back to playing. and again, minutes passed, a lot of minutes, to hours. that’s when everyone finally decided to go home.

“come on, y/n.” ony yawned, grabbing his things. the streetlights were on now, and everyone was getting tired. you were about to stand up until you heard the basketball bouncing again.

“i’m… just gon stay here wit’ armin til he wanna leave. i’ll text you when i get home.” you mumbled.

“ight. be safe.” ony flicked your forehead before walking out of the gate with connie.

you hummed and looked back over to armin who just dribbled and shot the ball for a few more minutes. that was until he sighed, making one last shot and letting the ball fall, turning around.

you saw him pause, probably being jumpscared by how you were just sitting there, before holding his chest and letting out a deep sigh. “what the fuck?” he walked over to you. “why you still here?” he asked, grabbing his things.

“ian want you to be alone. duh.” you got up as he grabbed his things. you grabbed your purse and phone, waiting on armin to finish packing his stuff.

“you coulda just went home.”

“i know that.”

“don’t you got some typa curfew?” armin asked, starting to walk. you walked beside him. “no, and you do?” you looked up at him. “nah. i just think it’s weird how you would randomly wait for me. no problem wit it tho. ‘preciate it.” he said.

“cus ion want you to be here alone.” you said as you both left the gate and started to walk down the street.

“well how you gettin home? i know you live on the other side of the block.” he mumbled. “the good side.”

you smacked your lips with a smile. “ion live on the good side. shit still happens there. the neighborhood still boring as fuck. i just… don’t pay attention to it.” you shrugged.

you continued to walk and talk until you both made it to armin’s house.

armin suddenly stopped. “we gon have to go around.”

“why?”

“ion want you walkin home alone.”

“why would i be walking home alone if my house is right behind the fence of yours?” you started walking to the side, and backyard of his house.

“hol’ up, huh?”

“hold on, lift me.” you grabbed the top of the fence. “uh.. okay.” armin muttered, letting you step on his hands.

when you were halfway across, you sat there for a second.

“thanks for walking me home.” you smiled a little, hopping down and walking towards your own house, leaving armin confused.

“well damn.” he pursed his lips together, picking his things back up and walking towards his house.

after that… well, you don’t even remember. all you know is, that was the one time you two got close.

the one time, just for now.

part two here!

[diaryujin]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

summary: Sunghoon has never felt any spark in his heart, none of that silly love he’s read about in novels in his free time. No one interested him, and it wasn’t like his father, the king, would let him have friends, male or female, for fear of being betrayed or developing feelings for them. He lived a life of isolation, excited for nothing – neither the idea of being married to a pretty princess nor becoming the next ruler of the Park kingdom. He most certainly did not expect you, his new guard, to change all that. He did not expect you to brighten his days and light up his heart.

includes: death, murder, war/battle, attempted murder (kinda), breaking in, royal au, romanticized medieval setting of sorts, forced marriage/proposal, a lot of time skips so it moves somewhat quickly, brief mention of a toxic ex, death by illness, joking mention of jumping off a balcony, blood, wounds, denial of death kinda, graves, lmk if i missed anything!

genre: angst

pairing: prince! sunghoon x guard! fem! reader

word count: 8.1k (woah)

taglist: @kflixnet @kpopslays @jvjsssnaa a/n: it’s finally here! i sacrificed sleep for this and i do not regret it at all. this fic has two milestones for me - being my longest fic + a fic i’m kinda proud of. i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it <3

PLEASE REBLOG/COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS FIC 🫶

Sunghoon was reading over some papers pertaining to the kingdom’s matters when he heard a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

One of the guards came in, before bowing upon seeing him.

“Sire, his Majesty wishes to see you.”

He nodded and set the papers in a neat stack. He then put them in a drawer and locked it for security. He then stood up and followed the guard, maintaining a neutral expression.

His mind was working much faster than normal though.

His father was very strict, and the slightest mistake meant an extremely harsh lecture. He flicked through his memories, trying to remember what he could have done wrong, and what he should say as his apology. 

He pursed his lips as a thought crossed his mind - was his recent trip to the colder regions made known to his father? He had gone for administrative work, but he couldn’t resist spending some time there ice skating, which the king always considered useless since it benefited only the person skating, not the country. He had done his best to keep it under wraps, but maybe one of the guards reported this to the king. Damn it.

He mentally slapped himself for using such crude language. Those were the words of peasants and did not suit a prince like him. Holy moly…buckling barnacles, great heavens…such lengthy words to express frustration, he thought. ‘Damn it’ was only two syllables.

As he snapped out of his reverie, he entered the Throne Room. His father was seated on the grand throne at the end of the airy space. The seats where the ministers sat were empty. Court was always in the morning, and it was probably lunchtime by now - the prince wasn’t sure. 

He stood a few feet away from his father. The guard bowed and left, and Sunghoon made eye contact with the old man in front of him. He didn’t seem angry, so the younger relaxed a bit, letting out a sigh.

“Why have you called me here, father?”

“I’ve received some proposals from other kings. They’ve sent me paintings of their daughters. A lovely selection of princesses, I must say.”

Sunghoon had to physically hold himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Father, I’ve already told you this. I am not ready for marriage and I am not interested in this topic.”

“Yes, but it’s good to start early. Maybe you’ll change your mind after-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you Father, but why have you actually summoned me?”

The king narrowed his eyes at his son but didn’t say anything more about the topic.

“Well, I’ve decided to get you a personal guard. There have been many threats of attacks on the palace, so it’s better to take this precaution.”

“Interesting. Will he be with me all the time or-”

“She.”

“What?”

“Your guard is a female.”

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. His father? Hiring a woman? As his bodyguard? What if he-

“Are you serious?” “Yes. She is very capable and I’m sure she will protect and serve you well. I trust you to keep your relationship with her strictly professional.”

It wasn’t like he knew how to have a non-professional relationship with anyone outside of his family anyway.

“Yes, Father. Will she be with me at all times?”

“Indeed she will, except for when you are sleeping. At that time, she will stand outside your door and guard you.” “What about her food and sleep?”

“That is not your concern.”

“But-”

“Silence!”

He immediately bowed his head slightly as a sign of remorse for stepping out of line. This was going to be interesting, he thought. He had little to no interaction with women outside of his mother and sister, and the small talk he made with princesses and duchesses of other kingdoms was always awkward. Now he was having someone of the opposite gender, a woman, watching over him nearly 24/7.

He slowed down his train of thought. Why was he thinking like a teenage boy ogling over a girl? He was the crown prince, he was better than that. It was going to be a new experience, that was all.

“May I meet her now?”

“Of course. She’s arriving as we speak.”

Just then, the door opened, and you entered, a male soldier on either side. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, but nothing came out of it. 

He was having a cultural shock of sorts. All the women he had met were all dainty, graceful and poised - the epitome of perfection. You, on the other hand, had an air of authority about you — rough and firm. A few scars were on your face, probably from battle. You bowed the full 90 degrees, and he could only respond with a small nod.

Oh fuck, you were gorgeous.

And he used foul language again. Stupid Sunghoon, he reprimanded himself.

He didn’t take back what he said, however. Your beauty wasn’t the type written in books or sung in ballads, but it had to be known to the world, somehow. He was almost tempted to write one himself. 

Hold on, why was he thinking all this? His father had just told him to not think anything about you that crossed the lines of professional, and thinking about how pretty you were was not within those lines.

“This is your new personal guard, Y/N.”

You came over to him and bowed again, although at a smaller angle than before.

“N…Nice to meet you, Y-Y/N.”

Did he just stutter?!

“It is an honor, my prince. I swear to serve you to the best of my abilities.”

“I’m sure you will.”

He managed a small, formal smile, looking completely pleasant and unfazed.

Which he very much was not. He wanted to jump off the nearest balcony when you said ‘my prince’. He didn’t know why - you weren’t the only one who addressed him in that manner. You might’ve even learned it from someone in the palace, so why was he so hot and bothered with the way you said it?

“Your duties start today, guard.”

“Yes, your Majesty. I will not let you down.”

He was going crazy. You were just his new guard. Nothing less, nothing more. He would just have to rein in his thoughts and get it all together. Not a difficult task at all.

As you stood behind him as he walked through the kingdom’s streets a week later, he seemed to keep a little distance from you, which was unsafe. Anything could happen within a few meters.

“My prince, you must slow your pace.”

He turned his face to look at you as he stopped walking.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“There’s a gap between us, and anyone could attack you with that.”

“Ah. I see. In that case…you can walk next to me. Or something.”

You stood next to him now. He quickly looked at the fruits a vendor was selling, trying his best to avert his gaze so that you wouldn’t see his reddening cheeks. It was unknown to him as to why he was so flustered. You were only doing your job, and that was it.

“Our kingdom seems to produce good crops.”

“Indeed they do, my prince. The farmer and the cultivators work very hard. It always seems to go unnoticed for some damn reason, though.”

He heard the angry tone in your voice and the curse word you said. This seemed to be a sore topic for you. He was curious, so he decided to ask more.

“What do you suggest, then?”

“We export more crops so that they get more revenue and in turn, they get paid as well. Increase the demand.”

You shrugged before turning your attention to a little kid who was clinging to your leg. You leaned down and patted his head, smiling a bit. The kid laughed and ran away. Sunghoon watched this interaction with interest and it dawned upon him that you cared about the people and their welfare, like a good ruler. 

Wait, why was he thinking about you being a ruler? You were only a soldier, and with the hierarchy now, there wasn’t much chance you could become more.

It did make him wonder, however, what you would do if the people rebelled. He shook his head, not wanting to think so dark. Your suggestion was smart, though. It made more sense the more he pondered over it. He’d mention this to the old man and see what he’d say.

“Shall we move on, guard?”

You stood up properly before nodding.

“Yes, my prince. Apologies for slowing you down.”

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

“Nothing of the sort. Come, let’s go.”

You both continued your stroll and for some reason, his heart was beating very unnaturally. He only had this issue when he was agitated, but there was no reason for him to be scared now, so why was this happening?

It had only been two months since you became his personal guard, yet you were his closest and most trusted friend. He took all your ideas seriously and told them to the king who somehow accepted them, and called him ‘ingenious’ for supposedly coming up with them. He hated taking false credit, but he knew that he couldn’t tell his father that you were the mastermind of them all — he would then question Sunghoon as to why he was talking to them in the first place, which would lead to you being removed from your post and replaced with a boring male soldier. 

He didn’t want to lose you, not when he finally found a change in his monotonous life, someone to brighten his dull days, someone to call a friend, even though it was only known to the both of you and no one else. He couldn’t bear to have you gone.

He was sitting underneath a tree, looking up at the sky in the comfort of the gardens reserved for his family and visitors alone. His father never came here out of his own accord - he always considered it a waste of time. His mother was in her room, and her sister was in another kingdom discussing alliances. This was a moment very rare, just you and him, with no one to interrupt or catch you two slacking. 

You were sitting next to him, only a few inches away. The wind was blowing gently on his face. He closed his eyes and smiled, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Your presence next to him was oddly comforting. He opened his eyes again, turned his head, and looked at you, wanting to ask you something. 

“Guard, you know how I always give your suggestions to the king and how he always says ‘I’ did a good job thinking about them?”

Your face tightened the same way it did every time he took credit for your ideas in front of his father. He sighed.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I wanted to apologize for that.”

You tilted your head at him, clearly not understanding two things - why he was suddenly saying sorry, and how you doing that simple thing made him go insane. You took over him, body and soul. All he could think of when he tried to sleep was you. It was just two months. Two months, and he was already attached to you. He was convinced, however, that it wasn’t love or anything stupid like that. No, it was simply him forming a close connection to the first person who cared about him. Not everything was romantic affection. He had never tasted this emotion, obviously, but he’d say that he knew enough about it to confirm this wasn’t it.

“Why now, my prince? I’m sorry- I just didn’t expect you to, y’know…actually apologize. Never met a royal who’s done so. They’re all usually stuck-up snobs who think their shit is worth the entire kingdom.”

He snorted at that. It wasn’t like you were wrong, most of the royals he met were indeed very arrogant. He didn’t dare anything about it though, simply doing his best to not behave like them.

“It’s not right of me to take credit for something I don’t even have the brain for. I don’t mention your name for your security. If my father knew I was talking to you about matters like these, then…”

He made a motion of him cutting his own throat, complete with the sound effect. You grinned a bit, which was enough for him to be over the moon, but then you laughed. Not just a ‘teehee’ or a ‘haha’ - an actual, proper laugh. His heart swelled, maybe his jokes didn’t suck that much. Your laugh was indescribable. It was a delightful sound to listen to. It was short, but he wanted to hear it every day at least once for the rest of his life instead of those ballads that were sung in the court all the time. 

The way your eyes formed crescents, the way your face was half in the light and half in the shadow, the way the wind put an orange leaf in your hair like it was an accessory - it was making him sick in a good way. He rarely saw you smile, let alone laugh like this. He knew that you had to keep your expression serious all the time - all the soldiers had that training - and this was a proud moment for him to see you loosen up. He couldn’t help the small smile on his own face.

“My prince, is he really that harsh? I’m aware that he is super damn strict to us soldiers, but that’s expected since we have to be toughened up to protect the land.”

His smile faded before he shook his head in agreement.

“I’d say so. It’s for my good- I am the next in line, after all.”

“I don’t think forcing your child to have no friends is how you raise him to be king. He won’t know how to have proper social interactions.”

There you were again, hitting the mark accurately with your observation. He sucked at interacting with other people. Slowly, he was starting to dislike his father more. The faults he never saw in him earlier were becoming visible, the saint-like image he had of the king since childhood fading away. Was this meant to happen? He wasn’t sure.

“Right. I’m living proof.”

You shook your head in alarm.

“Oh shit- please don’t be offended by my idiotic statement, my prince…I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, really-”

He chuckled at how you were panicking and made a motion with his hand for you to calm down.

“It’s okay. I didn’t take it that way.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He saw your body relax as he rested his head against the bark of the tree again. He gazed at the sky, eyes fixated on the clouds and the way they moved in the direction of the breeze. Two questions lingered in his mind, and his mouth suddenly blurted one out.

“Do you ever sleep?”

It was random, sure, but he had to know. He was concerned for you. He never saw you leave his side, except for when he was asleep, and he already knew what you did then. You were still staring at him, but he didn’t notice.

“I do. I’m a normal person, my prince, I can’t function without food and rest. That’s impossible.”

“When?”

You let out a slight laugh at his curiosity, and his heart started pounding faster again.

“You don’t notice, do you? That means I’m performing the stealth part of my job well. When you’re in the dining room or a meeting surrounded by the best soldiers. That’s when. I also don’t stand watch for you every night. I alternate with another guard.”

His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape in understanding. He didn’t notice it at all, which meant that either you were a master of stealth, as you said, or he was just blind. It was most likely the former since he had no doubt in your abilities.

“I see. I was very worried for you, honestly.”

“I’m honored that I was an object of your concern, my prince.”

He scoffed at your slightly surprised expression. 

“Of course, I would. You’re my personal guard, what reason is there for me to treat you inhumanly?”

That stupid fucking slip of his tongue.

Shit, he just cursed.

Damn it, again.

His tutor and family would go crazy if they could read his thoughts.

Of course he had to refer to you as his, like you were property. Of course he had to emphasize on that word as well. You were making him loosen up too much. It shouldn’t have happened, not at all. He couldn’t continue like this, what if he accidentally cursed in front of people? He would never be heard of again.

“I’d say I had expected that, but you’re different from other royals, so not really.”

“I understand. Also, you don’t have to call me ‘my prince’ when we’re alone. Just Sunghoon is enough.”

Your eyes widened in astonishment.

“My prince, I wouldn’t dare to-”

“Really guard. It’s fine.”

“But his Majesty-”

“He doesn’t have to know. Our secret.”

“If you say so…it’ll take me time to get used to calling you by your name, princ- I mean, Sunghoon.”

“Already getting there.”

“I guess so. In that case, you can call me by just my name. No need for ‘guard’.”

“Your wish is my command, Y/N.”

This was new. Not referring to someone by their title was disrespectful. He learned from a ripe young age that if he didn’t call someone by their title, he could end up with his head on a guillotine block in some places. Were you seriously making all his long years of education unravel? Silence fell upon the two of you before he spoke up again.

“What do you think love is like?”

You must’ve been taken aback, and he expected to see such an expression on your face. Instead, when he stole a glance at you, it was something else. Wistful? Longing? He couldn’t name it exactly.

“Books don’t give it justice. Neither do ballads. It’s…more than that.”

He was intrigued by your response. He raised an eyebrow, signalling you to continue.

“Oh? You’ve been in love before?”

You stared at him, a sad smile forming on your lips, a look flashing in your eyes. One of remorse, he recognized.

“Yeah. It was depressingly…beautiful.”

His chest tightened at your words for some reason.

“Heartbreak?”

“Kind of. We fought a lot…our personalities were very different. Then when we finally reconciled…he died. An illness took him away.”

Your eyes were filled with so much hurt, it almost made him cry. This was his first time seeing you emotional, vulnerable, and while he was honored that you trusted him enough to show you this side of yours, he wondered how much you were hiding away. All he wanted was to protect you so that you would never have to go through something as painful as that. He made a resolve to make sure that he was never the cause of the agony in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry that happened.”

“It’s fine. It was just- unexpected. It’s been a year anyway.”

“I hope this doesn’t bring back memories you buried, but…how would you describe love?”

You rested your chin on your palm, thinking for a bit.

“Love isn’t only about the physical signs. For me, love is always wanting to be by someone’s side, being so head over heels for them that even the littlest things like…I don’t know, something stupid, makes you remember them. It’s being their biggest supporter, but also telling them when they’re wrong. Love is wanting to keep them safe from all the bad in this world. It’s when even the simplest thing they do brightens your day, like a smile or a small act of kindness. Love is when you put their needs and wants above everything and everyone else. There’s obviously more, but that’s my personal experience.”

Holy moly. Sunghoon was in love.

He was in love. That emotion many desired to feel at least once. All his previous notions and confidence about it being platonic flew out the window. He very clearly did not learn enough about this feeling. He didn’t know whether he wanted to be happy that he could say he had loved once in his life, or scream in frustration that he fell for someone out of his league and not some princess who he was supposed to want like this.

God, he hated himself.

“Pri- Sunghoon, are you okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He couldn’t let you know, he was a hundred percent sure that you didn’t feel the same. Plus, he was the prince, and if you both were caught, it would mean bad for him and catastrophic for you.

“I’m fine. Come, let’s go. We might get caught if we stay any longer.”

He stood up immediately. You were confused but followed his orders. What he said, you obeyed.

It had been eight months since you became his personal guard, and half a year since he realized that he was in love with you. He tried to distance himself, but one look or word from you and his resolve faltered. He was so deep in this pit, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to dig deeper or climb out. He wanted you to stay away and he also loved the way you destroyed every single one of the walls he built around himself subconsciously. 

He matured, and he was no longer the shy boy who didn’t know how to talk to someone of the opposite gender. He was a confident and charming crown prince now, the man of many’s dreams. You were the only one on his mind though. 

His father was now eager to get him married off, and he had to comply with his wishes, He was no longer the king who served the people anymore - he was corrupted, only thinking about power. Sunghoon did his best to undo the damage inflicted on the population, but the situation was getting tense, and he knew it. Rebels were raising their heads and it was his job to keep them in check. It was difficult, but you helped him through it.

Presently, he was sitting in the dining room with his family, the king, queen, princess, and officials of the Hwan kingdom. This was the proposal his father liked the most because the Hwan kingdom was rich in resources, and this alliance hidden as a marriage would give the Parks access to those coveted precious stones. He was hoping, however, that the other king would say no for some reason and he’d be free.

He had no interest in the princess, however. She was too boring for him. They had zero common likes, and the only thing they related to each other on was the struggles of being next in line. This was probably the worst match he had ever met. She seemed like she wanted this much less than he did. She was at least trying, he had to give her that.

You stood behind him on his right side. He so desperately wanted to turn around and see your reaction to all this. Your face had to have no expression now, obviously, but you both shared secret looks with each other in odd situations, and he was sure you’d find this amusing. The chatter across the table died down suddenly, and all the attention was on the two kings in the room.

“We’ve agreed on this marriage. Prince Sunghoon and Princess Hyeju are now betrothed!”

Sunghoon’s hands, which were tapping the table, stilled. He froze in shock, every voluntary muscle in his body stopping movement.

No, this couldn’t happen.

This was a nightmare, a terrible dream. He pinched his thigh underneath the table and ended up proving to his dismay that he was wrong.

This was the worst day of his life.

His father droned on about the details of the wedding. He tuned it all out. He tilted his head just a little to see your face and noticed that you were gripping your spear much tighter than necessary. You knew that he didn’t want this, not at all. Maybe you were angry on his behalf.

He couldn’t do anything about this, however. This was just his fate, and he resigned to it immediately. 

The meeting ended, and everyone, including Sunghoon, stood up and exited the room. You followed him as he went straight to the gardens to clear his head. His family would be occupied with entertaining the guests and making more plans, so it was just you and him. Again.

He sat in his usual spot underneath the same tree. He buried his face in his hands, frustrated. He heard the sound of you sitting down next to him, before feeling your hand lightly grip his shoulder.

“Hey, Sunghoon?”

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s fine.”

“I know how much you don’t want this. Trust me, I don’t want it either.”

The second sentence was uttered in a more quiet voice, and he moved his hands away from his face to look at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Your lips formed a thin line, your body language making it clear that you were saying this with hesitation.

“I don’t want you to marry her.”

You removed your hand from his shoulder. You looked down at the grass, fresh and green from the new spring season.

“Why? I mean- other than me not wanting it personally, there’s no reason you should hate it…this is an amazing opportunity for the people and the kingdom! We will prosper-”

“Fuck the people and the kingdom- I want you, dumbass.”

His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.

“What…do you mean.”

“I love you really badly. That’s what I mean.”

He couldn’t believe it. You, the very person he always desired desperately, his forbidden fruit, loved him back? Wanted him? This wasn’t real. He must’ve been knocked out after the marriage announcement and slipped into a pleasant dream.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You want me to prove it?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t know what to expect, but you grabbing his face and crashing your lips on his was the farthest from his vague idea of what might happen. 

It lasted for a few seconds before you pulled away suddenly. You noticed his dazed expression and started to panic.

“Shit, shouldn’t have done that, please don’t kill me, I-”

Your voice snapped him out of his haze before he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you in for another kiss. His hand tucked one strand of hair behind your ear and you melted into the action, calming down instantly. He was so gentle, so careful, he was holding you like you were a delicate object that was to be treated with utmost care at all times. When you both parted, his face wore a lovesick smile, his eyes sparkling like stars.

“I feel the same.”

“Yeah, it was obvious.”

He chuckled at your comment, before frowning. 

“You know this is dangerous, right? We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your shoulders slumped at his words, knowing that he was completely correct.

“I do. I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess. I just didn’t…know how to tell you.”

He shook his head. To him, you could do no wrong. It was his fault. He should have gotten rid of you so that he could nip the blooming flower in his heart from the bud. He shouldn’t have been such a coward.

“I understand what you mean now. I don’t know how to stop it, though.”

“That’s…fine. Just knowing you feel the same is enough for me.”

It wasn’t. Neither for you, neither for him, and you both knew that. The fact that he couldn’t be yours and you couldn’t be his simply because of both of your duties was like a nasty, sharp torn ledged in the soft flesh of his heart. You and him were not meant to be. Your romance was only a fantasy, to be never fulfilled.

“Precisely. This is all it’ll ever be.”

It was night. He had one week until his wedding with the Hwan princess, and he was dreading it. Seeing your face became unbearable for him sometimes — you reminded him that he had everything a commoner could only dream of, but even the poorest of poor could love and he couldn’t. He was ready to throw his entire life away and disappear with you, but his fear of what would happen next to the country held him back. 

He stared out the window in his bedroom which gave him a perfect view of the private gardens. The place where it all started and ended. The moonlight shone on the trees and flowers, giving it a peaceful aura, different from the cheery one it had in the daytime. Even in the comfort of his silk night clothes and soft blankets, he was in a state of unrest. He wanted to run, wanted to be free, wanted, wanted, wanted. He lay down, resting his head on his pillow as he waited for sleep to find him while he closed his eyes. Thankfully, the night was kind to him, and he dozed off almost instantly.

Sunghoon was rudely woken up by you frantically shaking his figure, pleading with you to wake up. When he came to his senses, he heard alarms sounding in the palace and immediately understood that it was an emergency, although what might’ve exactly happened was beyond him.

“Y/N, Y/N, I’m up. What’s going on?”

He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and slapping his face for good measure.

“Rebels. Come, we need to run.”

The first word was enough for him to be fully alert. He foresaw them coming, so it wasn’t a big shocker for him. He put on his slippers and looked at you with determination. He was actually trying to mask his fear, but you didn’t need to know that. You grabbed his arm and ran out of the room. He was a bit startled at your speed at first, but quickly matched your pace. When you both reached a corridor, you slowed down, wanting to be careful of surprise attacks.

“Hide your face to the best of your ability. I’m not sure if they’ll recognize you in non-prince clothes, but it’s better to be safe. They’ll aim for me instead since I have the palace uniform.”

His chest tightened. You were ready to give up your life for his. He knew that was protocol for all soldiers - royals over their own lives. He knew, but you were different. He didn’t want you to die, he couldn’t imagine a life without you. You were his oxygen, he’d suffocate if you were gone.

Suddenly, he noticed a flash of light. He heard a whoosh and he saw the way your hair moved in the direction of the sound. He assumed it was a gust of air along with the lights of the palace shining weirdly, but then he looked at the wall in front of him and realized what it was - an arrow. It was embedded in said wall, and you had missed it by a hair’s breath. Literally. It had scratched your face, but other than that, you were fine.

You pulled him down to remain on the floor, before you stood up and ran to the rebel that shot it, your hands gripping your sword tight. You engaged in combat with her. She was rather buff, and even though she only had a bow and an arrow holder on her, she was slowly gaining ground in the fight. She was blocking your thrusts with her bow, catching your moves with its string. She landed a harsh blow on your chest, and he gritted his teeth seeing your sharp flinch. He had to do something and fast.

He crawl-walked across the floor, making sure to stay unnoticed. He moved to stand behind the rebel before forcefully grabbing her neck. She was gagged, and the sudden lack of air caught her off guard. You took the opportunity and struck her in the heart, and he let go of her. 

You both ran off, eager to get to the safe room specially built for situations like this. Barely some distance away, he raised his head, neck aching from the constant strain, when you suddenly pushed him to the ground and covered his mouth with your hand. He was about to protest, feeling kind of hot and bothered with his position, but then he decided against it. You definitely did this for a reason, and he could repress his feelings for a while.

Your head turned as you stared at a rebel passing by, praying he wouldn’t notice you both. He was blind to your movement thankfully, and as soon as he left, you got off of Sunghoon, pulled him up, and ran. You pushed the door of the safe room which was behind a cupboard open with your shoulder, and he then realized that he was the first one to reach. The door closed, and he glanced at you, relief and gratitude clear in his eyes. 

You gave him a thumbs up and turned to leave to assist the other soldiers with getting the rest of his family to the room when he suddenly grabbed your wrist. You looked at him with confusion, and you opened your mouth to ask him what he was doing when he placed his lips on yours. You let out a soft gasp when he held you closer, one arm around your waist, the other hand on your back, holding you close. This wasn’t like the last time you kissed — this was desperate, filled with emotion. He let go of you too soon, eyes shining with tears. 

You both knew that there was a chance you wouldn’t come back to him, and this could be the last time he saw you.

You squeezed his hand in an attempt to reassure him. He just nodded at the door, knowing that you had your duty. You bowed and left as he watched you in fear, praying that you’d make it.

After the attack by the rebels, there were always new questions about the palace’s security floating around. Quite a few lives were lost. None of them were you or his family, but Sunghoon still grieved for them mentally. He couldn’t imagine the agony their families must’ve been going through, and he managed to convince his father to give all the deceased’s close relatives compensation. 

The wedding was called off for now, much to his delight and his father’s despair. The old man had accused him of doing something to sabotage it, but he had grown a thicker skin, thanks to you. All efforts were now being put into strengthening the forces of the kingdom, and the actual matters of state were being ignored. This would lead to more rebellion, but his father didn’t seem to care. At this rate, he could die if he stepped out of the palace grounds — the people hated him that much. Sunghoon was already preparing to become the next ruler since that future would become a reality pretty soon. 

A surprise attack was inevitable, but he didn’t expect the aggressor to be the damn Hwan kingdom.

They must’ve heard about the damage inflicted on the palace from spies and knew that the Park kingdom would be focusing its efforts on repairing it, thus taking advantage of the situation. It was smart of king Hwan, Sunghoon would give him that.

He rode his horse while inspecting the soldiers preparing for battle. None of them were properly ready for this. Many veteran soldiers were on break and were called back suddenly. They all did come, and he was grateful to them for that, even when they had the right to refuse. The troops were arranging their positions quickly, and a little bit of his anxiety relaxed. Their army was strong, they could face this.

As he rode back, he saw his father, who was seething with rage at being betrayed, Sunghoon’s brain was in overdrive. Many of these brave soldiers would sacrifice their body and soul for a stupid fight that wouldn’t bring much to the land that could have been easily prevented. He knew it would happen, but didn’t do anything that was enough to fix it. He couldn’t keep falling short of what was necessary, that wasn’t what a future king would do. 

Not wanting to talk to the old man, he rode a little further where you were on your own horse, surveying the battlefield. He relaxed a bit more upon seeing you and moved to be next to you.

“This will be a tough fight, Sunghoon.”

“I hope it remains a fight that ends today and not a war that stretches over days.”

“Where we are victorious.”

“Obviously.”

“My- Sunghoon, what will you do in case your father…is killed?”

The slip-up and the way ‘my Sunghoon’ rolled off your tongue so perfectly made him miss your actual question for a moment. He let out a soft giggle, before manning up to think. He hadn’t considered that possibility at all. If that happened, then he would automatically become the next king. He’d rule the land and hopefully lead better than the previous king and his reign would be peaceful. He’d make sure of that.

“Be the next ruler, of course. I’d promote you to my personal advisor.”

You cracked a small smile at that.

“Not enough brain. Plus, what if I don’t make it?”

“Won’t happen. You’re too sexy to die. Your abilities are top tier too, you’ll survive.”

You laughed now, and he smiled fully at you. This was a situation unheard of — right before a whole battle, he was here flirting with you and laughing. So very serious. 

He leaned his head closer to yours, hair falling over his eyes. They were pleading silently with you to steal one last kiss, one last secret gesture of love before you both left to fight, one last chance to hold you. You shortened the gap, about to comply, when the war horn sounded, signaling the start of the battle. He frowned, angry at the lost chance, but quickly kissed your forehead. You pecked his cheek in return, before putting on your helmet and riding off. 

The sound of hooves hitting the ground and the sight of dust flying from them brought him back into the moment, and he rode in the same direction as his own army, intending to lead the fight. His father was weak and made dumb decisions, so it was up to him. He moved directly to the frontlines, pulling out his sword from its hilt as an enemy soldier charged at him. He fought with ease, and soon a dead body was on the ground.

He should have been desensitized now upon seeing gore and corpses, but it still disgusted him. He gritted his teeth and averted his gaze as he parried with more enemies. Soldiers were dropping left and right from both sides. Blood splatters were on his own face from fighting so fiercely. It was a miracle that he was still standing with only minor injuries, the Hwan soldiers were vigorous. 

Time was passing quickly, although for him it felt like an eternity. He just wanted to go back after all this ended. He didn’t care if he had to marry the Hwan princess, all he wanted was for this bloodshed to end. The sound of arrows being shot, horses neighing, grunts of hurt and dying soldiers — it was all too much for him.

All of a sudden, a more experienced soldier was attacking him, he could tell by the moves. His entire focus was on fighting back because this guy could actually kill him, that much was clear. He didn’t notice the other soldier charging towards him from his left with a spear until he heard a clang. 

His eyes darted in the direction of the sound for a second, only to see you had blocked the attack and thrown the soldier off his horse. He was impressed and inspired by you, and with renewed strength, he killed the veteran. He gave you a thumbs up, before looking to his right as someone else ran to replace the deceased soldier. He was ready to fight that person and everyone else with you and for you.

Then, tragedy struck.

An arrow was heading in his direction. Occupied with the current fight he was in, Sunghoon was in no position to dodge it, and you took the blow. Pushing his horse with your own, the arrow lodged in your chest instead. The only reason he noticed it was because of the sound of pain you made. He finished off the man fighting him, and then turned his head to look at you. Your head was drooping slightly and your grip on the reins of your horse had faltered.

No, no, no, this can’t happen!

You were supposed to stay with him, you were supposed to be by his side forever, he was supposed to get more chances to love you, even in secret, not just lose you like this.

He immediately shoved his sword back in its hilt before grabbing your torso to steady you. You were very faintly there, you just had to keep going a bit more for him, and he knew you could.

“Y/N, hold on, okay? Don’t close your eyes, please.”

“Try…ing.”

Fuck, your voice was so weak, you really were trying. He’d end your suffering soon, he promised silently.

Coincidentally, the war horn sounded once more, signifying the end of the battle. It was his kingdom’s, which meant he had won, just like you wanted. 

But you weren’t conscious enough to realize it.

He promptly sat you on his horse in front of him, one arm around your waist holding you close and tight. He galloped fast to the palace medic, the best one in the entire region. He ignored the weird looks and the shouts of his name, traveling with urgency. He had to move fast for your sake, and also for his own. He’d lose his shit if you…no. You weren’t going to, he was sure of it.

“Try to not focus on the pain, we’re almost there.”

That was stupid advice, but he had to say something, anything to save him.

“This doctor will fix you up, I swear. Just- don’t give up yet, Y/N. I beg of you. It’s all I’ll ask for this badly from you.”

Your head was now tilted back, and it rested on his right shoulder. You opened your eyes slightly to look at him, which he took as a good sign.

Then you spoke.

“I won’t…won’t make it. It’s…no point…denying it…my…Hoon, I…love you.”

At your words, Sunghoon’s lips formed a thin line as he squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds to force his tears to stay back. He could feel the blood running from your wound and collecting onto the sleeve of his suit, but he refused to accept it. You would make it, you couldn’t die.

“Shut-Shut up. You’re not dying, not when I’m here. Look, we’ve reached- you’ll be okay, I swear.”

He got off the horse, your limp body in his arms bridal style.

He wished he could be holding you like this in a different, more happier situation.

The doctor rushed out of her house and knew that it was urgent upon seeing the prince at her door. She took you in and he waited outside, pacing around nervously. He was so certain you’d survive, but the wound could be a major setback for the rest of your life. He’d have to make adjustments to accommodate you at the palace. He wouldn’t mind though, it was for you after all.

The doctor came out after a few minutes, and he waited for her to say something along the lines of ‘she survived, but ___’. Not to see her shake her head with a soft sigh. 

“I’m sorry. She didn’t make it. She was gone when you came here. We tried our best, but…the arrow was poison tipped, which reduced her chances of surviving to zero.”

No. No no no no no. This lady was old and wrinkling, she was probably cuckoo and playing an unfunny prank on him.

“Can I see her? Alone?”

“Of course, sire.”

He rushed inside immediately, expecting to see you on the bed bandaged up and smiling at how well the prank worked on him-

She was right. You really were gone. You took your last breath in his arms. Your arms rested limply by your sides. The arrow was removed, but the blood stains were on your armor as evidence that the fatal injury did indeed happen. Useful reminder for a delusional ass like his. Your helmet was off your head now.

He sat down on a chair next to your bed and held one of your hands gingerly. It was already turning cold, and he hated it. He felt freshly made cuts and bruises along with older scars on your palm. His gaze fell on your face. The scratch you got from the rebel’s ambush was still partially healing. He took in your features with intense concentration, engraving them in his memory. He despised the fact that you looked so much at peace right now – when you just left his entire life in turmoil. He needed so badly to shake you back to life or something, but he knew that there was no point now. He lifted your hand up to his lips, kissing it in a tender manner, a weak replacement for the one you both missed maybe an hour or two before. 

Just when he let go of your hand, the doctor rushed in with news.

“Sire, his majesty has passed away due to a…similar poisonous arrow shortly after victory.”

Both the people he knew wanted to win the most were dead just after it happened. Ironic, he thought - this was worthless now.

King Sunghoon walked through the cemetery for soldiers who had sacrificed their lives for the country. He stopped right in front of one which had many flower bouquets, a lot of them from his own previous visits, all of them your favorite flowers. He got on his knees on the right side of your gravestone, head bowed in respect and hands folded in his lap.

“Hello, Y/N. I know I’ve come to see you many times before, but I can’t help it. I miss you so much. You left too soon. I still believe that I should have taken that arrow instead of you…although it was for the better in hindsight. At least your last memory was of me and your pain ended quickly.”

Silence. He quickly wiped his eyes.

“I love you, Y/N. I still do, so much. I should move on by now, but it’s hard. Not when you meant so much to me, not when you changed me. A little for the worse, mostly for the better.”

He laughed dryly, looking at his hands. An expensive ring gleamed on his ring finger.

“I married a queen who I liked a lot. Not the Hwan princess, although she and I keep in touch often. We’re allies now. Kind of ironic, since I lost you and the old man in a war against that same kingdom’s old ruler.”

He wasn’t willing to let himself break, what if someone walked in on him sobbing over a dead soldier's grave? What would they think? He poked his eyes with his fingers, still in misery. No matter how much he tried, everything in his brain led back to you. While he didn’t want you to fade or leave his mind exactly, you were only meant to be a guest, visiting occasionally, not a permanent resident, not someone he still needed. When he calmed down, he quietly lifted his crown off his head and put it on top of your gravestone. He placed a solemn hand on it, closing his eyes. “This is a love stained crown, tainted with you and I, along with all our memories. Your affection will never wash away, no matter how much I try. I miss you and I love you, and I hope you’re doing better, wherever you are.”

[hell-is-not-an-excuse]

Not so sorted Ghostfuckers thoughts

Firstly, this episode was an improvement over the last few, at least in my opinion - That isn't to say that it's great, or even particularly good, but I can say that I was more invested in this episode, even if only a little. It had more focus on the original concept of the show with an I.M.P mission finally not just being reduced to a short... Though the mission still doesn't take full priority, something I will expand on momentarily.

Before that though, I'll start off with the things I did actually like.

The bankruptcy joke got a quick giggle out of me. It may be that I'm still an immature little homonculus, but the jokes that don't fall into the unnecessarily crude/sexual category still elicit a reaction from me.

This joke got me too - I know that this was almost definitely intended as a jab towards critics, however it loops back around to being funny to me, as I joke a lot about being "objectively correct".

These frames of Moxxie specifically - I love him a lot and wish he was in a show that took better care with its character writing

I enjoyed seeing the flashback designs for the I.M.P crew - Moxxie isn't too different, but I actually sort of prefer the others past looks here.

Lastly, this specific moment/line! This is a massive improvement over what was given to us in those leaked boards - In the original boards, I had a hard time believing that Millie would have this suicidal fit out of seemingly nowhere because... Some other demon told her she was a bad wife? This is a much more "in character" line for Millie, given what we already knew about her as an audience (which admittedly, wasn't a lot, but she never gave off the sort of insecurity/suicidal ideation that the original boards appeared to have been pushing for).

I think I've gotten all the praise I can wring out of my system - Now comes all the issues I take with this newest episode. These criticisms come in no particular order.

There's the usual thought that comes whenever a new episode drops - The swearing and sexual humour is too frequent and over the top. I'm an enjoyer of well placed crude and sexual humour, but this isn't well placed. With every second line containing profanity, innuendo, or explicit sexual content, they become less and less special and interesting to hear, to the point that watching characters interact becomes a slog.

Blitz is supposedly having this month long breakdown because... He had a breakup that wasn't really a breakup? He himself admits they were never in a relationship, and gets upset at the concept that him and Stolas will never be together. Obvious criticism of Stolitz notwithstanding, until Apology Tour, there have been no genuine moments of "love" between the two - This all comes off more as Blitz mourning this potential (now dead) relationship because the writers feel it's time for him to do so, without selling to the audience why he would give a damn about Stolas in the first place. I hardly believe Stolas and his pining back in Ozzie's, let alone the shameless display that we're getting now.

Speaking of Stolas, this is a perfect segue into what I said I was going to expand upon further down in this post; despite this episode having an I.M.P mission be a main setting, that's all it is - A setting. I wouldn't mind so much if this was purely for character building, but it's yet another instance of things happening because of Stolas. This feathered fuck haunts the narrative even when he's not present! The mission is presented more as an avenue of helping Blitz "get over" Stolas as opposed to just being a job that the members of I.M.P need to, you know, live.

Speaking of, how financially stable are I.M.P and its employees? Despite having nearly two seasons to expand on the concept of a business owned by the lowest caste of Hell's systems, nothing is done with it. With a setup like that, there should at least be some narrative drama involving the company facing challenges and instances of being in financial dire straights. Instead of this however, Blitz is able to blow a months worth of money on useless knick-knacks and owls to burn? With no real show of consequence as a result of this?

While I enjoyed seeing a bit of Millie backstory and her relationship to Blitz, Helluva still suffers from its "tell don't show" rule. Millie mentions she loves to have fun with Blitz, but we have never seen an instance of these two having fun together in show.

Honestly, the backstory of Blitz/Millie's meet and subsequent partnership should have been its own episode; we could have actually seen her steal the target from I.M.P as a solo assassin, we could have seen the state of I.M.P before her addition - If you wanted a bit of shipping fuel, you could also have an instance of Moxxie being too starstruck by this mysterious, wrathful rival to take a shot on her. So many possibilities! All wasted.

Millie's development episode shouldn't have come at the tail end of season two - She's been in the show since episode ONE, she deserved something in the first season to flesh her out.

I do not buy her reasoning for looking up to Blitz; if she thinks of herself as only a simple country girl or a brute, this would have been nice to actually see hinted to us throughout the show.

The casual ableism in the joke about the Hotel Owner's new cleaner - Not only is the way he is depicted simply dehumanising, framing him as this object of disgust rather than a person, this is driven further by being called a "poor thing" and only being reacted to with vague disgust by Blitz and Millie. And of course he's barely verbal, with the exception of a funny swear word (/sarc).

The whole sequence where Blitz is alone and being tormented by visions of Millie and Tilla is... It sure exists. Subtlety is lost in most of this dialogue here as once again, we are bluntly told what the problem with Blitz is - We know he makes decisions that fuck over others for his own benefit, we know he's selfish. We've seen this time and again!! This is not something that needed to be explicitly spoken for what feels like the millionth time in this (so far) two-season run.

Speaking of mothers! Millie and Loona get shafted into a role of taking care of their respective man for the episode - As a matter of fact, both their conversations involve Blitz or Moxxie. After nearly two seasons, I don't think they've had a conversation that wasn't about their male coworkers/relationships.

What is an infestor demon? Have they shown up before? What in God's name am I supposed to know about them? Somehow when it comes to worldbuilding, the need to explain everything explicitly is gone.

Why is Blitz being emotionally tortured again while Stolas sees no real consequence? This is getting to be a really tired pattern.

The whole ghostfucking bit was already testing my patience within the first couple of minutes.

Anyway, that's all I have of like... More surface level critiques of this episode. I'll probably make a few more minor posts about this episode later and elaborate on some new thing my brain is sticking to.

[anthonys237thfreckle]

Do you have any Javi headcanons? (Just about him as a character)

Javier ‘Javi’ Rivera - Headcanons

TW: mentions of death and mild bullying

🌪- Javi def grew up being called ‘Javier’ a lot in elementary school. He only transitioned to the nickname ‘Javi’ in late middle school/ high school.

🌪- Speaking of growing up, his freckles were made fun of, so he grew up being insecure about them. He doesn’t give a shit now, though, since the ladies liked it in college

🌪- He was always a fun kid to be around - very smiley when he was a young boy. In his teen years, he started discovering himself more, and in high school hooked up with both guys and girls.

🌪- He probably had his bi awakening through watching a movie and finding a male character hot, then being jealous of the female love interest.

🌪- Of course he was a little anxious about coming out, but he didn’t really care as much what people thought of him. If they asked, he’d tell them but he wouldn’t go around announcing to the school he’s bi or whatever.

🌪- He never really found an interest in subjects like art or music in school. He was really good in science, obviously. In elementary, his favourite topic was the water cycle.

🌪- In college, he was surprisingly good at what he did. He put a lot of effort into coursework AND balanced his hookups.

🌪- He found his group of friends: Jeb, Kate, Addy and Praveen - and he fit right in. The perfect balance of nerdy, ambitious and troublemaking.

🌪- His best assets in college were his holy trinity - hair, freckles and body. He did work out a lot in high school and maintained his figure in college, so that made him attractive. Those god-damned freckles made him eye catching and unforgettable, and his hair - a brown mop of curls, shoulder length and he rarely ever had a bad hair day (and as someone with curls myself, i need his routine.)

🌪- Javi’s lively personality was mostly squandered by two major events in his life. The EF5 accompanied by the loss of his friends and joining the military.

🌪- He still holds onto the grief of not being able to guide them through the storm, of being picked by the universe to live when three of his best friends died.

🌪- Part of him died too that day.

🌪- The military gave him a tough skin. Lots of physical training and whatnot - he still got to pursue and use his knowledge in meteorology, but more professional and safe this time.

🌪- To him it doesn’t feel the same.

🌪- Once he was done with the military, he started dating Scott mostly because he just wanted to feel something, and Scott made him feel things. However, the two of them didn’t mix and split up.

🌪- He’s a logical thinker, but under the influence of emotions, he’ll say whatever’s on his mind, no matter how hurtful it can be.

🌪- That’s why he’s a little afraid to get too riled up or to let his emotions free because he’s afraid of losing someone from saying something shitty.

🌪- However, after Kate talked some sense into him, he found a new purpose in life - to help people in danger. To save lives and communities, and he’s determined not to let anyone suffer the same fate as his friends on his watch.

[onryosblade]

autistic hazel callahan hcs (ig?)

so . hm. hear me out. i have some random not only hcs but like "evidence" (just me rambling lets be real) of why hazel is autistic to me (or its just me projecting the recent diagnosis in my new comfort character whatever)

this is my first time doing a post so? yeah enjoy i guess :<

its a whole essay be aware!!

★THE ESSAY PART (?)★

• the way she doesn't get phrases and takes things literally like in that one scene when pj and josie are talking about the juvie thing and she is like "wait . you guys ate literal shit?" (that one scene people talk A Lot but there's more, like that one when she get "oh... so things about juvie werent real lmao ok why did u lie tho" and she seems genuinely hurt :[ oh god)

• that being said, she is easily gullible, really having the idea of "i wouldn't lie/mislead about something like this, so why would they?", the first instinct is to believe because it doesn't make sense to lie or mislead at all (exemple: the scene where the guy from the team i forgot the name tried to help her and she believe not only for this bcs because she was vulnerable, of course)

• speaking of lies, she really disliked the fact that the girls were lying to the club about what was iy really about (but that's just what every other person would think ig lol)

• she likes to organize things!!! like, the lists and every email and how she took the whole club activities so serious? omg i love her sm

• that scene where she is almost having a breakdown and doing noises and curling up in herself...

• she's stimming. all the damn time. I DONT MAKE THE RULES ITS THE TRUTH. like, literally.

anyways this is the ones i remember rn, let's go to some hcs shall we?

★AUTISTIC!HAZEL HCS★

★ ㅡ her favorite way of stimming, mainly in public, is to play with her rings or/and chain, crack her knuckles, fidget with the hem of her shirt, feel the soft fabric of her cardigan sleeves or just curl her fists around the ends of whatever long sleeve she has on that day.

★ ㅡ part of me thinks she really likes the texture of crochet or the kind of texture her clothes during the movie has, like, just sliding her nails at it almost scratching, but some days, she would absolute hate the feeling.

★ ㅡ she does have a special interest in how to make bombs but not only that, the crochet thing would be something she would really like to do, too.

★ ㅡ she likes to do lists for EVERYTHING, even silly stuff, probably does ranks of random foods once in a while out of boredom (that one is very self indulgent i must admit)

★ ㅡ when overstimulated, she usually curls into a ball and makes noises to try to self regulate (just like in the scene of the gif!).

★ ㅡ she is the type of autistic that is hyperverbal for sure, even more so with her special stuff like bombmaking ! if u want her to love you ask her about it.

★ ㅡ she have difficulty with maintaining relationships, not much starting them, so that's why she so glad she got the girls of the club to be alongside her.

★ ㅡ i like to thing the girls help her when she is in need of supporting, just like after she got beat up at the gymnasium and everyone showed up to help.

★ ㅡ moving her whole body and being overly expressive to release the pent up stress and kind of a way of stimming. her skipping everywhere would be a good one too :>

★ ㅡ she actually doesn't do that much of masking, only when very self aware like when she doesn't get a obvious joke or something, but ever since the girls became her friends, they try to help her and say "hazel... that wasn't serious, we were joking" or something along those lines and even try to explain it to her!

i think thats it for now?

i told you that was going to be long 😭 sorry i just needed to yap about my babie haze anyways thats it bye

[djarins-cyare]

Never Look Down

Part 2: Maia’s (Your) Morning

← Part 1 | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Prompt: “I don’t know what’s happening but I love it.”

Summary: Din has been ignoring his crush on Grogu’s babysitter for a while now, with varying degrees of success. But after a misunderstanding leads to some revelations, there’s no denying things any longer. Sometimes you just need to look at things from a different perspective.

Rating: Mature (18+)

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character (for his POV scenes) / Din Djarin x Reader (for her POV scenes)

Word count: 7,830

Tags/warnings: POV switch, hangover hell, light angst, confessions, even more references to erections, some swearing, references to sex, kissing, reference to fellatio, a lot of fluff, Reader has a name (and a job and an inkling of a backstory). Regarding her prior bad relationship, I don’t want anyone to be triggered by an assumption, so please note she was NOT in an abusive situation. Her former partner was just a drug-dealing douche.

Author’s note: I finished something new! [*cries in disbelief*] 😭. Thank you so much for your interest and support! 💖

READ ON AO3 (author’s preference)

Tumblr version ahead if you prefer…

You wake up somewhere dark and soft. It takes you several seconds to realise where you are due to the throbbing ache in your head that’s screaming for focus.

You’re in Din’s bed.

Oh fuck.

Well… more like no fuck. A shameful absence thereof.

Slowly, memories of the previous night drift to the surface of your foggy brain, each one deepening your embarrassment until you’ve reached the pitiful depths of utter humiliation. It cuts deeper than your hangover, which includes a pounding headache and a bruised shoulder (how did that happen?), yet is almost trivial in comparison. Kark, you drank – and said and did – a lot more than you should’ve.

Babysitting Grogu is not your primary source of income. In fact, you have a contract with Karga for city planning and infrastructure upgrades. But that’s just building holos, presenting them to the High Magistrate, and then outsourcing the work upon approval. It’s sporadic and flexible, leaving you with plenty of hours to kill. You took this part-time job to keep yourself busy, but you’ve come to enjoy hanging out with the little guy and his bafflingly sexy father. Both are good fun, have always been friendly and welcoming, and you’re fond of their company. Who are you kidding – you’re profoundly attached to them both. Plus, Din has taught you to use a blaster, helping you feel safer and more self-reliant now you’re free of your ex’s ‘protection’. The extra credits are merely a bonus, and you’d do this for free if it came to it.

Well, not this. Not turn up drunk, pass out in your boss’s refresher, then misread a gesture of kindness as a sexual advance. And you just had to fucking let your thoughts spill out, didn’t you? Shit, you basically told him you think he’s a virgin! Sure, you’ve wondered, but you’ve never drawn any conclusions, so why did you have to vocalise those thoughts as if you had? You’ve been so careful to avoid suggesting his commitment to his creed might be impeding anything fun. So what if he can’t eat with you or sleep with you – that’s his choice. He probably thinks you’re judging him now. You shouldn’t have opened your mouth, damn it!

Of course he rejected you.

How could you ever have thought Din would want to be with you after everything you did last night? There are so many reasons for him to have walked away like he did. Not only did you fail to provide trustworthy childcare, but you also vomited in his toilet and were a drunken burden on him after he’d had to go out on a job. Then you assumed he wanted sex, implied he might not have the requisite skills, stripped naked, climbed under his sheets, and stole his fucking bed for the whole night.

You’re a disgrace. The regret burns in your chest, branding you from the inside out as the fool who pushed a former bounty hunter too far.

Plus, you work for the guy, so that’s surely a factor. Your role here is simply to take care of his kid. At least it was. And, of course, he’s never shown any interest in you. In fact, whenever you’ve wondered if the two of you are having ‘a moment’, he’s always run away.

Why did you have to make an already bad situation so much worse by revealing your desires? You were coping fine with your self-imposed celibacy. Sure, it was frustrating, but you were surviving. Repressing your libido around him was working for you.

As much as you want to hide beneath the blankets and avoid the fallout, you know you can’t stay in Din’s bed forever. Even though it’s soft and warm and smells like him – fresh yet with a hint of spicy musk. You really can’t.

Fumbling to activate the lamp, you drain the water on the nightstand, noting your clothes strewn across the floor. Thankfully, they don’t smell of alcohol or vomit (at least you’re a tidy drunk), so you get dressed and stumble to the refresher. More memories return at that crime scene, adding to your shame spiral and giving you a likely reason for your bruised shoulder.

Din has left his ultrasound cleaner out of the cabinet, which has to be a suggestion that you use it, and you can take a hint. You recall complaining that your mouth tasted like bantha balls, and accepting his pity is the lesser evil. Though it’s far more than you deserve, it’s also far better than this flavour.

You gladly let the vibrations clean your mouth and then rinse away the residue, feeling much better for it. It’s not enough to ease your thumping headache, but it’s a start.

You can’t hear any noise from upstairs or across the hall, so you wonder if your hosts are still asleep. It’s clearly past dawn since daylight is spilling down the staircase, but it could still be early. Maybe you can just slip out unnoticed? You debate checking on Grogu first. Din probably slept on the couch, though there’s a cushioned chair in the kid’s room that he could’ve used.

Guilt and concern make you check on your charge despite the risk of waking a metal sentinel. But you’re surprised to discover an empty room. That means they’re either both upstairs and being quiet, or they’ve gone out. You’re hoping for the latter. Zandi insisted you meet her for lunch, but part of you wants to run straight to your friend’s place and cry about what an idiot you’ve been. Hmm, no. You should go home for a shower first. Not that it could wash off the disgrace, but it might ease your aching head, at least.

You dart across the hall for your shoes, straightening out your boss’s��sheets before you leave (a token apology, if anything). Catching sight of a comb on top of his dresser sends another type of guilt burning through you. Stealing his bed was already an invasion of privacy, but learning about what he hides beneath the beskar feels worse. You anxiously smooth down the blankets, flick off the lamp, and tiptoe up the stairs.

Thankfully, you find an empty living space, lit by sunshine so bright that you realise it’s already mid-morning. Din must have taken Grogu to school.

There’s no sign of your glowrod, but you don’t care. He can keep it. You shove on your boots with as much haste as you can manage and fly to the exit, darting through. Kriff, it’s so blinding outside that you have to turn your back to the sun or risk your hangover increasing tenfold.

Just as you’re gulping lungfuls of fresh air and keying in the lock code to secure the cabin, you hear him.

“Feeling better?”

The Mandalorian steps out from behind the cabin, and you wonder if he’s been waiting to ambush you. Damn it, you should’ve known. Bounty hunter.

You can’t look him in the eyes. Well, the visor, really. Either way, you fix your gaze on the porch. You’d normally come out with something playful and witty, but today, your brain gives you nothing except wry honesty.

“The hangover and torturous headache are nothing compared to my embarrassment,” you answer sheepishly. “I am so sorry about last night.”

You don’t specify which part because you mean all of it. Drinking to excess and throwing up in his home, as well as climbing into his bed, stripping off, and assuming he would fuck you, then commenting on how you thought he couldn’t fuck you. You’re sure you’ll never live down this shame.

Din doesn’t respond to your apology, but he steps forward, a wall of beskar and muscle blocking you from leaving the porch. He leans past you – so close he almost traps you against the door – and reverses the lock code you just entered.

When the door behind you swishes open again, he gestures inside with a nod. “We gotta talk.”

Oh, frotz, this is bad. This is so so so bad. He’s normally relaxed and happy around you, welcoming (or at least tolerating) your friendly jokes and nicknames. But right now, he’s all stiffness and silence, thumbs in his belt and elbows out wide, staring you down as if you were prey. He is not happy with you. You’ve fucked up bad.

You’re going to lose your job. It’s not a substantial source of income, but you’ll lose your bonding time with the kid and the friendly teasing thing you’ve developed with his dad. You won’t get to watch how strong and beautiful this warrior-turned-father is anymore, how soft he is with Grogu, despite his hard beskar shell. There’ll be no more shooting lessons. He’s going to tell you how offensive your remarks were last night… kark, what if he has a duty to punish anyone who disrespects his creed? Is it disrespectful to suggest he can’t have sex, though? Maybe the offensive thing was you throwing yourself at him. Or perhaps he thinks you’re hideous and finds the idea of having sex with you offensive. Whatever the case, he’s going to—

“Maia….”

Hearing your name growled through his modulator snaps you out of your spiralling thoughts, and you realise you’re just standing there gawking at him in the doorway.

Suddenly, you feel meek in his presence, which has never happened before. Even when you first met, he was careful to make you feel safe and welcome. This menacing demeanour is new.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Can I just go home?”

Din looms closer like a rancor threatening its prey. “This won’t take long,” he insists.

With widened eyes, you shrink back toward the scene of your crimes, your near freedom now a fool’s delusion. He walks forward as you step backward across the cabin’s threshold, maintaining the proximity – a fateful dance that promises a morning even more tragic than the night before.

“Sit,” he commands, gesturing to the couch. He watches you perch yourself where you’re told to and then nods, appeased by your obedience.

A heavy silence clouds the room as your soon-to-be-ex boss flicks on the caf maker and heats the beverage while you quietly unravel on the couch. You’re not even sure what this is. It feels like he’s about to punish you (and not in a good way), but you have no idea how. Is he going to yell at you? Torture you with some kind of ritualistic Mandalorian justice? Or is he just going to describe how disappointed he is, fire you from this job, and threaten to roast you with his flamethrowers if he catches you anywhere near Grogu?

Whatever’s about to happen, you’re zealously ignoring the part of you that’s low-key turned on by how dominant he’s acting this morning. You can’t examine that right now.

After a minute or two, Din brings a cup to the couch and perches beside you, performing an awkward shuffle as he angles his body toward you. Still unsure how to act, you remain facing straight ahead, watching him in your peripheral.

He’s fully armoured this morning, his movements determined but stiff, and you recall how fluidly his body moved when he was just down to his flight suit. When he swept you into his arms, cradled you against his chest, and carried you to his bed…

No! Bad thoughts! Now is not the time for those because you’re about to receive the worst reprimand of your life (and you work for Karga!).

But your brain won’t stop replaying the memory, leading you to a distracting notion. He keeps his armour on the shelves in his bedroom – you saw it there last night. That means he must have come in to grab it this morning while you were sleeping. Damn, he’s stealthy! Though, to be fair, you were utterly passed out.

Wait. You woke up fully covered and tucked in. You don’t recall falling asleep, but you do remember arranging the blanket for optimum cleavage display. Kark, you really hope you snuggled down properly in your sleep. Because if not, there’s a chance that he opened his door to an inadvertent boob extravaganza, and he covered you up for the sake of your dignity. Fuck! How much shame can you suffer in a single morning?

He still hasn’t started talking, so before your thoughts ricochet in yet another distressing direction, you prompt, “You, uh, said we need to talk?” It’s probably best to confront your impending doom so you can run home and scream into a pillow.

Din huffs a little. “We do. Doesn’t mean I know how to start.”

Hmm, well, he doesn’t seem too angry, at least. Perhaps there won’t be any Mandalorian torture-based vengeance after all.

You don’t have the energy to play ‘guess the punishment’, but maybe you can stave it off if you beg for mercy. “Okay, then let me start. I said and did some monumentally stupid things last night, and I understand if you can’t forgive me and never want to see me again. But I just need you to know how truly sorry I am and that I really didn’t mean to offend you, and if I could—”

“Stop apologising,” he interrupts, shaking his helmet.

His order startles you into silence. It was insistent, but he didn’t sound angry at all. In fact, there was an undertone of something else. Almost the amused side of frustrated. What the kriff is happening?

Din sighs and tilts his visor toward his lap, then seems surprised to realise he’s still clutching the caf he made but clearly can’t drink in your presence. He silently offers you the steaming cup, and after a beat, you accept it, staring at it just as he did.

Never has a cup of caf received as much scrutiny as when two parties are unsure how to vocalise their thoughts.

“I made it for you,” he offers. “Thought… with the hangover….”

“Thanks,” you mumble, unsure what else to do or say. This isn’t going as expected at all, and your confusion is only growing. Is he doing some kind of bounty hunter ‘killing with kindness’ act?

This is absurd. You just need to get him talking, accept your punishment, and then you can escape.

“Um,” you begin, and his shadowed visor fixes on you again, unsettling you further. “If… if you don’t want to hear my apologies… what do you want to talk about?”

Your reluctant host forces out his response like it’s stuck inside his throat. “I want… I wanna ask you… some things. And I need you to answer honestly.”

Your stomach churns with nerves. He has questions? He must want you to explain what you said. He’s going to make you relive it – not by telling you how offensive you were, but by making you deconstruct your own comments and actions.

Kark. It’s a punishment, alright.

But if the penalty for your folly is the discomfort of explaining yourself, you can deal with that. This is a man you’re used to teasing, and he sounds just as unsure about what to say here as you are. So, you need to gather your confidence and endure whatever awkwardness this brings up.

You square your shoulders and lift your chin. “Okay… ask me.”

“You’ll answer? Honestly?” There’s an edge of desperation in Din’s voice from which you intuit his real meaning. You need to check any joking at the door.

Well, your current embarrassment level is sky-high, so whatever he wants you to respond to or admit surely can’t be much worse. You’ve already laid yourself (literally) bare for him. “I will. You got a slice of my inner dialogue last night, so I might as well continue the honesty.”

“Good… thank you.” He releases a profound sigh, a rush of static through the vocoder, and appears to gather himself for his first question. “Why do you think my creed means I can’t…?” He trails off, but you follow his meaning and match his heavy sigh.

“I don’t really think that,” you assure him. “Honestly, I’ve never known what to think, which means I’ve made no assumptions either way. But I guess… my drunken brain felt it was… safer to err on the side of caution when addressing it out loud.”

You’re not in the least bit surprised that he’s starting with this. If he is a virgin, you’ve mocked him, and if he isn’t, you’ve no doubt hurt his pride.

When he doesn’t respond, you suggest, “If that’s your first question, it sounds like you’re worried I’m judging you, so let me reinforce what I just said. ‘No assumptions’ means ‘no judgments’. But if you want to clarify things, I can promise you that whatever the truth is, I still won’t judge you.”

The importance Din is giving this topic is by far the biggest clue to the likely truth. No virgin would question you in the way that he just did. If they mentioned it at all, they’d probably just insist it’s not a topic for you to concern yourself with and never speak of it again. But inviting him to confirm his expertise gives him an easy way to lay the matter to rest. It’s also the kindest thing to do in the wake of your drunken foolishness.

He nods a fraction, accepting the premise, pausing while he chooses his words. “My creed doesn’t impose any rules relating to that, only that I cannot remove my helmet. And… some people kind of, uh… they get off on the mystery. So I do pretty well when I need to… blow off some steam.”

Huh. That was surprisingly direct (for him). You can’t help but smile, wondering if your delight stems from finally having proof that he isn’t without experience or that this discussion (so far) isn’t about how badly you fucked up.

Hoping to conceal your thoughts and keep the focus on him, you instantly slide back into teasing mode with a new nickname and a vague compliment of sorts. “Super Stud! You’re very discreet.”

“That’s the idea,” he confirms, ignoring his new moniker. “Although it’s by no means frequent, and since I got Grogu, I haven’t had….” He clears his throat. “Time and opportunity are rare.”

As much as you wish Din would choose to ‘blow off some steam’ with you, all you hear is a chance to atone for last night’s thoughtless actions. “I can take care of him while you go have some fun…?”

A massive scoff comes through the vocoder, and he shakes his helmet widely. “No, Maia, that’s… that’s not gonna work.”

But you persist, desperate to make amends. “Oh, come on, Metal Man, you deserve a break. Isn’t there anyone on Nevarro you can call for some fun?”

He sighs. “I have… options, yes.”

You furrow your brow at that. “So why did you say time and opportunity are rare? If you’ve got options, why don’t you just get your shiny ass laid while I do what you pay me for and take care of—”

A distinctly peeved huff crackles through the modulator, and you instantly fall silent. You forgot you’re not supposed to be teasing. Nor is it clear yet whether you still have a job. Foot, meet mouth.

He curtly redirects you. “Next question.” You assent with a nod, but when he continues, his tone is suddenly guarded and awkward. “Last night, you said… you suggested… that you and I might… blow off some steam.”

Fuck, this is the part you were dreading, and your pulse picks up. He seems nervous. Is that good or bad? Well, it’s better than angry and scary. You try to freeze your movements to avoid either wincing or looking too eager, nervously awaiting his question.

“Was that… because of the alcohol? Or… something, uh… real?” All you detect in his voice is discomfort, so you can’t tell which option he hopes for.

You sigh and take a careful slurp of the scalding hot caf to buy yourself time. It’s hard to answer because there’s a lot at risk. If you’re too honest about your feelings and Din doesn’t feel the same way, your relationship might end – professional as well as personal.

But once again, the fact that he’s asking suggests your answer is important to him, so the odds are likely in your favour. If he wasn’t attracted to you, surely he’d play it down and give you a way to save face. Just say he knew your silly drunken advances were simply an extension of your usual urge to tease and meant nothing, and that he forgives you for them. Surely he wouldn’t ask if they were ‘real’.

The concept sparks a tiny flame of hope in a dark and dusty corner of your mind, a pinprick of light to chase away the fears you walked in here with.

However, you can’t be too hasty or draw conclusions without facts. Though this isn’t going as dreadfully as you feared it might, the sensible option is to avoid getting your hopes up. He asked you for honesty, so you’ll give him that, but you decide to err on the side of caution again. An assumption against any interest on his part shouldn’t be offensive.

“It wasn’t… totally the alcohol,” you confess cautiously, and you see his body instantly tense up. Is that a positive reaction? “I’ve been trying to remember exactly what I said to you. I told you it was a ‘dream’, right?” Din nods once. “Well… that’s true. I admit I’ve had some daydreams about the idea. But it felt… safer not to mention it. Last night, you made it clear you weren’t interested in me, and you’ve never given me any reason to think otherwise, so I—”

“I did no such thing.”

Shit. The anger you were afraid of is finally colouring the Mandalorian’s tone, and he leans forward with his vehement denial.

What did you say wrong? Did you tease too soon with the new nickname just now? Shock and confusion contort themselves across your face, and you shrink backward.

He almost growls at your retreat, and the creak of his leather gloves as he clenches his fists has you bracing yourself for trouble. You honestly can’t tell if you’re turned on or terrified.

Before you can decide, he declares, “Last night, I had to walk away from a beautiful naked woman in my bed because she’d been drinking, and I would never do anything without full consent. I did not make it clear I wasn’t interested in you. Fuck, Maia, I have dreams about you too. All the time.”

Your mouth hangs open in surprise. Even knowing it was vaguely possible, you weren’t ready for that response.

He has dreams about you too!

Now that he’s confessed what got him so worked up, you see him make a visible effort to calm down.

His next words are much softer, soothing your prior unease, though your heart continues to thump from his admission. “Time and opportunity are rare because you’re Grogu’s babysitter, and that kid loves you. When he’s not with me, he wants to be with you. He only goes to school twice a week. That’s not a lot of time or—”

“—or opportunity,” you finish. “Okay, I get it. Why didn’t you say anything before? We could’ve been blowing off steam on schooldays for months already, but I had no idea. I would’ve climbed naked into your bed way sooner if I’d known.”

Din groans, a low and sinful rumble, and you wonder if you shouldn’t have put those images in his mind.

A deep breath later, he answers, “My son is my priority; his needs come before mine. He needs a good babysitter more than I need a good… uh….” He trails off and clears his throat. “And last night was the first time you’d ever said anything. I had no idea either.”

“But, but…” you stammer. Okay, so you’ve been keeping it to yourself, but you’re surprised he didn’t pick up on your attraction at all. “I’m flirting and checking you out all the crinking time, Metal Man. I thought bounty hunters were observant?”

He hums as if he’s flattered by your admission. “Teasing me is not a sign of anything on its own. And I’ve never seen you look anywhere other than directly at my helmet. You would’ve noticed my interest otherwise.” You furrow your brow slightly, not following, and he shakes his head in frustration. “You never look down.”

You look down.

Holy mother of meteors…

That is one obscenely snug flight suit and one fucking impressive erection.

Granted, you’ve noticed he’s been wearing the loose flight suit pants more often. In fact, you’ve missed being able to check out his toned ass in the closer-fitting ones. But since you can’t see where he’s looking, you’ve always been careful to keep your roving eyes chaste whenever he’s facing you. And, kriff, you never figured the reason for his wardrobe change was to hide this glorious attribute.

“Wow,” you breathe, unsure of what else to say. Suddenly, the volume on your headache reduces, and your lust levels shoot up. It’s so….

Din fidgets slightly, perhaps on edge because of your sudden scrutiny. Oops.

You revert your gaze to his visor, chancing some levity to ease the tension. “If I wasn’t fighting a skull-splitting hangover, I’d have a whole host of new nicknames for you already. Something about being as hard as beskar or carrying a concealed weapon… ugh, gimme a day, I’ll come up with a winner.”

His chuckle suggests the ice between you is now well and truly broken. You knock back the rest of your caf in the relaxed pause. It’s still hotter than you prefer, but perhaps it’ll quell your desire.

He lets you finish before breaking the easy silence. “Another question before you go, if it’s okay. Maybe a couple more, depending on how you answer the first one. I’d rather not leave this topic hanging now that we’ve addressed it.”

“Sure.” Right now, you’re willing to give this man whatever he wants.

“Okay. There’s another reason I walked away last night – besides your drunken state. It’s why I haven’t mentioned this before.” He swallows and inhales shakily. “You told me that your last relationship was terrible. And the fact that you chose to celebrate its end tells me you value your freedom. On my side, my relationships are rarely meaningful or long-term. So it might seem easiest to keep things casual.”

He pauses, but it’s unclear whether he wants your input. You can’t tell where he’s going with this, so you give him a one-shouldered shrug.

He leans forward and rests his vambraces on his cuisses. “If Grogu wasn’t around, it might be. But casual never ends well, and I will not threaten the bond you two have just for something meaningless. For the child’s sake, we gotta be sure where we stand before we… act on any of this. I can’t do casual with you, Maia. So the first question is: are you interested enough to try something… meaningful? Because if you’re not, we gotta bury this.”

He’s right. You start to understand why he got so worked up at your admission that you’re attracted to him for real. It complicates things.

He’s asked a logical and vital question, and you take a moment to give it due attention. Whatever happens, this cannot threaten your employment. So where are the lines?

You’ve felt something for Din from the start, and your attraction has only grown. That line is already blurred, and it hasn’t threatened anything, but it helps you see what he’s getting at. Your attachment to him and Grogu has become far more profound than you expected, so you couldn’t do casual even if you tried. It could only harm your bond with the kid if you tried to repress that attachment and keep things casual with his father.

Simply put, your feelings are already meaningful, so whatever comes next must be too.

Strangely, that doesn’t scare you. Your prior experience was poor – both oppressive and neglectful – but you were a displaced teenager on a new planet looking for protection when you got into that. Din is nothing like your ex, and this couldn’t be more different. You have faith in this man and, thus, faith in your answer.

“I am,” you confirm with a smile. “Are you?” He’s already confirmed he won’t do casual, but you need his agreement to start something meaningful.

He swallows, then echoes, “I am.”

A thrilling but weighty moment passes as you both digest this, just staring at one another in the wake of your mutual confessions. The air feels charged with promise. You can almost taste it.

It’s hard to judge how long has passed when he speaks again. “Second question. Did you use my ultrasound cleaner?”

Well, that’s a non sequitur. You have no idea how this query relates to your previous answer, but you nod nonetheless.

“Great. Come with me.”

He stands and leads you downstairs, stepping into his room and tapping on the main lights. When he sees that you’ve made his bed, he hums happily.

You’re quiet but hopeful, the heady feeling of promise that consumed you last night slowly filling you up once more as he turns to face you and beckons you closer.

“We should take this slow,” he starts. “You’re hungover, and I want you to feel comfortable when we….” He nods at the bed, oddly still reticent to describe the act.

“When we fuck.”

Din releases the cutest whimper and tugs at his pants. “That is not helping me with this problem. If you keep talking like that, I might not be able to resist,” he warns.

You scoff. “Shiny, are you really trying to threaten me with sex? Kriff, please tell me you didn’t use this tactic on any bounties back in the day.”

“No, I did not. And I’m trying to save that until your head doesn’t hurt,” he sighs. “But… question three. Before you go home, can I… kiss you?”

Your eyebrows shoot up as surprise and desire collide and carve a messy path through your chest, sending your heart tumbling into a double-time beat.

“Are you…” You’re not quite sure how to phrase your query, still chagrined by last night’s verbal blunders. “Is that some kind of metaphor? Does ‘kissing’ mean something different for Mandalorians with the whole helmet thing? Because if we’re just gonna thumb wrestle or something, I’m still in, but it’s kind of weird to call it kissing.”

He chuckles, and it eases your worry. “We do have a kissing substitute, but no, in this case, I meant what I said. I just gotta turn the lights out so you can’t see me when I remove my helmet. If that’s okay.”

All of your fears and concerns melt away with his answer. Gone are your worries about your budding romance having awkward or difficult restrictions, replaced by a certainty that you can handle not making eye contact. If observing that single caveat allows you to be with this man, you don’t even consider it a sacrifice.

Well, if he brought you down here to ensure it’s dark enough, you can help with that. You saunter to the door and touch the control to slide it closed, blocking out the sunshine filtering down the stairs, and then you turn to him with a smile. “It’s very okay. I’m not leaving here without a kiss, Din.”

He sucks in a modulated breath and doesn’t move for a second. “You… used my name.”

You know you’re allowed to – he’s told you that many times – but you find the nicknames help to maintain a friendly distance. Treat him as a friend, not as a lover. Except now things are changing.

“I thought I’d practice,” you explain. “I’m guessing that when we do get in that bed together, you’d prefer I scream out your real name instead of ‘Shiny’ or ‘Beskar Boy’.”

He groans sinfully again and reaches for you, fixing a glove around your wrist and tugging you to stand beside the shelves he stores his armour on. “Don’t move,” he instructs. Then he releases your wrist and taps a button on his vambrace, and the lights very slowly fade out until the room is darker than the void between galaxies.

Suddenly, sensations are everything. You can detect the warmth of Din’s body so close to yours, though you’re not yet touching. You hear him breathing more audibly than usual, a gentle but slightly stuttered hiss through the vocoder. You feel the air swirl around you as he raises his hands to his helmet…

The rhythmic thump of your heartbeat quickens, and despite your lack of sight, it’s as if the events occur in flashes between the beats. The absence of sound as you hold your breath. The gentle rustle as he slides off the metal helmet. The muffled clang when it hits the shelf as he lines it up. The scrape of the edge as he pushes it home. The nervous breath he releases in the subsequent silence, reminding you to exhale too.

Then he’s reaching for you, and your mind goes blank as his hands find your hips, closing the distance further. It’s not close enough to feel his arousal against you, although that’s probably wise. But if you weren’t still harbouring a headache, you’d be unable to resist pressing forward and seeking the impressive bulge you admired upstairs. Instead, you lay your palms on his cuirass and slide upward, burying your fingers in his cloak. That’s as high as you’ll go until you know what’s allowed.

One of Din’s gloved hands engulfs the nape of your neck, and you love how he’s controlling this, moving you in the dark to where he wants you. You can tell he’s leaned in closer by the sound of his breathing – more audible without the beskar barrier. Then there’s a sense of warmth on your skin as he brings you close enough to nuzzle at your hairline, gently at first, until you register the distinct press of his nose against your temple.

You feel it just before he speaks, his breath tickling near your ear as he opens his mouth to husk smooth, unmodulated words. “Go easy on me; it’s been a while since I’ve done this.”

Fuck, his voice is gorgeous. It resonates through you like a rumbling storm, drenching you with wanton promise, unleashing a different wetness upon you. If there were any frequency that could subdue your headache, it would be his soft and smoky timbre.

“Oh?” It’s all you can manage; a single syllable of surprise at his admission. He seems so confident.

“Mm,” he confirms, brushing his lips softly near the corner of your eye, and you detect some stubble around them. “Before we swear the Creed, we spend a while doing the things we’re taught to avoid after. I’ve only used this loophole once since then. So….” He trails off and presses a gentle kiss to the crest of your cheekbone, warm lips on soft skin, and you melt in his arms.

You want to assure him that he’s nailing it, preparing you so perfectly that he seems like an expert kisser, no matter how little practice he’s had. You want to thank him for deeming you worthy enough to use this rare loophole and express your stunned gratitude at the privilege he’s allowing you. But the notion of speaking confounds you, and all you can do is lift your chin and indicate your willingness to do this.

Din gets the message.

You can sense his nerves in the way he cautiously presses his lips against yours. But in the millisecond it takes to register a connection, your body reacts before your brain and electricity shoots through your nerve endings. Instantly, thousands of perfect explosions stud your skin, making you shiver in bliss.

He’s sweet, gentle, respectful… and it’s good. But it’s a little chaste for your liking, and you can tell he’s holding himself back. He needs to let go, so you emit a low hum of pleasure, which spurs him on and increases his fervour. You gently part your lips, and he gets the hint and takes the lead, deepening the kiss until your tongues meet – a touch that halts the spin of the whole galaxy around you.

Then he lets go. It’s as if he’s suddenly remembered how to breathe after holding his breath for decades, and oh, how utterly starved of oxygen he’s been. This kiss is feeding him, keeping him alive. His tightened grip, the tremors of lust you detect running through him, the way he almost whimpers into your mouth… it’s assertive and adorable in equal measures.

You can feel his inexperience, but you let him lead anyway. He gets lost in the sensations a few times, his rhythm faltering, but he corrects himself and responds keenly to your subtle signals of what’s good. It’s not long before you’re locked in a perfect moment, sharing an exquisite kiss with your ideal man.

When you part, it’s by mere centimetres, and you’re so full of happy chemicals that your hangover is barely a niggle at the back of your brain.

“I think that fixed my headache,” you purr against his lips. “I bet I could even thumb wrestle you now….” You have no clue what you’re implying, but you’re low-key horny, and openly flirting with him for once is fun.

Din’s unmodulated chuckle is the cutest thing you’ve ever heard. “Well, I was aiming for ‘mindblowing’, but I’ll take ‘headache-fixing’,” he jests, bantering right back for once. You can’t help but close the tiny distance to steal another lingering yet closed-mouth kiss, eager to show him just how addictive his efforts were.

Once again, your lips barely separate, lingering close. “Oh, it’s blown alright – completely offline. Probably why it doesn’t hurt anymore.” A salacious idea comes to you then, and you voice it a hair’s breadth from his mouth, knowing he’ll refuse but wanting to show you’re willing. “Maybe now it’s my turn to blow something of yours….”

The sharp gasp he sucks in and raggedly exhales indicates he’s just pictured your suggestion and played the image to its fruition. In the pitch-black room, you can pick up on his obvious arousal through sound and touch – the almost-groan he swallows, the twitch of all the muscles in his body as he reins himself in.

There’s a pause as he considers your proposal, and you can tell he’s waging a war with himself to refuse. You’ve put him in a difficult position. But this new closeness allows you to upgrade friendly teasing into full-on flirting, and you can’t resist.

It takes longer than you expect, but Din finally releases a shuddering breath, swallows, and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then he rasps, “I would enjoy that very much, but it’s not why I brought you down here, mesh’la.”

Mesh’la? Who the fuck is that? You stiffen in his arms, unable to process the idea that he’s just said someone else’s name during an intimate moment. Even if it does sound similar enough to yours that you could maybe understand the slip, how could he—?

“Maia,” you correct pointedly as your thoughts spiral, pulling away slightly, your stomach suddenly in knots.

He tightens his hold and hurriedly assures you, “Hey, no, it’s not— mesh’la means ‘beautiful’ in Mando’a.”

There’s a tense pause, and then you murmur, “Ah,” embarrassed and glad you didn’t instantly flip out at your incorrect assumption, then suddenly flattered by the compliment. As you fall back into his embrace, your sluggish brain gives you nothing more, too confused by the pelting of emotions you just received in quick succession. Perhaps it’s best to adopt Din’s usual policy of silence.

But he saves you from your chagrin and redirects you to another topic. “Final question. Can I make you dinner one evening this week? We agreed we’re aiming for something… meaningful here. Getting physical right away is not the best way to achieve that.” He squeezes your waist with the hand that’s remained in place throughout. “As much as I’m looking forward to that part.”

A sweet smile is your reply, though you realise he can’t see it in the dark. Luckily, it’s followed up by the return of your vocabulary. “Dinner sounds good. Grogu too?” You love the little womp rat, but this sounds like a date, so you’d rather it wasn’t crashed by a decades-old toddler.

Din hums as he follows your thought process. “The kids at his school keep inviting him on playdates and sleepovers. The parents seem like good people, so I’m sure we could arrange something both he and I would be happy with.”

You nod. “Then I look forward to our first date.” You can’t imagine how a dinner date will work with a guy who can’t show his face, but at least now you know there are loopholes. Perhaps he has another for eating together.

“Me too… mesh’la Maia.” You hear his slightly cheeky but utterly earnest tone, and you can’t help grinning. How apt that he should give you a nickname just when you decide to start using his real name.

You want to kiss him again, but since you pulled away a little, you can’t judge where his face is anymore, and you’re not sure if you’re allowed to touch him to locate it. “Another kiss before I leave, gorgeous guy?” (Two can play the nickname game, and you started it).

“Always,” Din agrees through a chuckle, bringing you in close again with the hand on your neck, finding your lips and pressing something firmer, more resolute there. You open eagerly for him and revel in the thrust of his tongue against yours. He’s settling into it now, more confident in himself and his technique, while carefully heeding your responses.

You enjoy it while you can – the sensations, the taste, the warmth, the delicious calm energy that washes through you with his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth, his hand on your neck. You commit the feelings to memory, unsure when you’ll get to do it again. You hope you won’t have to wait too long for your date.

It’s over too soon, but you accept that it has to be. As you separate, you attempt to lock in the memories of the features you’ve felt pressed against you – stubble, soft lips, a strong nose. It’s not much, but it’s more than you had before.

Din’s hand falls from your neck, and you bemoan the loss of heat and comfort, spiralling back toward your hangover from the heady heights of such an intimate moment. As you hear the scrape of his helmet on the shelf’s edge again, you panic a little and blurt out, “What’s your hair like?”

He freezes, and your panic swells for a different reason. Based on the comb you spotted on his dresser earlier, you’re confident you’re not asking a bald man to describe his hair, but perhaps it’s forbidden to ask.

“I-I mean, if I’m not allowed to know, then forget I asked. I just… now that I’ve felt your lips, it’s made me wonder about the rest. It’s fine if you can’t tell me, though.”

A few seconds later, the scrape of the helmet resumes, and he slides it into his grasp. But you don’t hear him put it on.

Din’s reply is a low whisper, and he sounds even more nervous than he was before you kissed. “You can’t see my face… but you can touch it. If you want.”

Oh. You wonder how many people have touched his face, which makes you hesitate. This feels more intimate than you should be getting right now. “Thank you. I think… just your hair today. I’ll explore the rest of you on our date, face included.” That promise wins you an eager hum.

Your hands remain buried in his cloak, so you slide one to the back of his neck and rake upward. A gasp escapes you as you feel soft strands, longer than you expected and curling slightly at the ends. You picture the cutest mess of unruly waves.

“Is it… what colour is it?” You’ve seen him without his gloves a few times – last night included – so you know his skin is a warm amber. But human genetics are so diverse that you can’t really assume anything about his hair based on that.

It takes a few seconds for him to answer, busy sighing in bliss and pressing his head into your palm like a tooka getting stroked. “Dark,” he replies simply. It’s unclear whether he’s hypnotised by your hand in his hair or he’s not used to disclosing details about himself. Both are fair excuses, and you have much more data than you did ten minutes ago either way. You’re convinced he’s gorgeous.

“Thank you, Din,” you offer as you force yourself to stop running your fingers through his silken waves and withdraw a step.

There’s a quiet rustle as he places his helmet back on and seals it. “You’re welcome.” It’s modulated again, but there’s something about hearing that metallic rasp that makes you smile. You just kissed the source of that sound.

With a muffled beep from his vambrace, the lights fade up again, revealing an impassive black T-visor. However, the armoured body below it somehow looks more relaxed and assured. Gone is the stiffness you felt in his limbs earlier, and though you wonder if a certain stiffness in his pants remains, you’re not about to start ogling him when you should be going home.

So you smile and suggest, “Walk me out?” and you’re rewarded with a nod.

When you exit the cabin for the second time in one morning, you feel like a different person. Though your foggy head throbs and your bruised shoulder smarts, your very essence sparkles with an energy you’ve never felt before. It flares with each lingering touch the Mandalorian bestows upon you, with every prolonged stare of his visor, and with his soft instruction to get home safe.

He’ll call you, he promises, slipping a new comlink into your hand.

When you exit the cabin for the second time in one morning, you feel like a better person. The girl who disgraced herself last night has gone, leaving a happier and more fulfilled version in her place. Even so, you’re sure glad that idiot version of yourself ran her mouth and became the catalyst for your new path with Din.

And you can’t wait to look down again. Maybe next time you’ll get to go down too.

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Get ready for more loquacious end notes…

Maia’s job was inspired by this scene from s3e5. She’s not a civil engineer, but, like, she could be that girl with the datapad – doing all the planning and building the holos while the engineer gets all the glory (can you tell I work in a support role??).

I originally wrote details at the end of part one of everything Din decided – that she must be attracted to him based on how she worded things, and that he’d talk to her to verify that and determine whether it was something she’d like to act on or just ignore. But I realised it was better for the story to leave his intentions a mystery (is the thing he ‘doesn’t want to have to do’ ejecting her from his life, or simply having a grownup conversation?), which hopefully lets you feel more of Maia’s fear here.

I feel like there’s a lot of scope for misunderstandings, not just because of Din’s helmet, but also because he can be socially awkward. So there he is, massively attracted to this girl who threw herself at him the night before but he doesn’t know what to say, so he just sort of gravitates towards her, tries to get close. Is he sort of flirting? Maybe. The ‘get in their personal space’ thing might work for him when he’s casually picking someone up. So his actions here are him trying to say with body language “I like you too, I want to get closer,” but she misunderstands because of her embarrassment, sees it as intimidation, and shies away – a response which makes him even more clueless about how to vocalise things.

I hope the switch from third person (she/her) pronouns in part 1 Din’s POV to second person (you/your) pronouns in part 2 Maia’s POV wasn’t too clunky. I know it’s popular in this fandom to use second-person pronouns (you/your) even when writing from a third person’s POV (Din’s), but I just can’t make myself do it. If he’s the one whose head we’re in, when he’s thinking about the woman he’s attracted to, he wouldn’t be thinking “damn, you’re hot”, he’d be thinking “damn, she’s hot”. I was taught that we should hear internal dialogue exactly as it would sound to the person thinking it, thus we should use third-person pronouns when inside his head. You/your is only for when we’re inside the reader’s head (second-person POV so second-person pronouns). And of course, I/me pronouns are used if we’re ever inside the author’s head (first person POV). I hope that explains the switch here. I swear I can’t help my annoying adherence to grammar rules – it’s just been drilled into me. I wish I could be more flexible sometimes, but unfortunately the autism always wins 😔

GIF made by me again, slightly less blurry this time.

Definitions: An ultrasound cleaner is basically a sonic toothbrush from Legends. Both Boba Fett and Jabba the Hutt kept a rancor as a rather scary pet. Caf, as you probably know, is the SWU’s coffee. Din (and Maia here) often calls Grogu a womp rat, a pest on Tatooine (proving Din has spent long enough there to pick up the local lingo, and Maia has picked it up from him). A tooka is an SWU cat.

As always, comments/kudos (AO3) and likes/reblogs (Tumblr) will inspire me to produce more things. I don’t have a Kofi because I would rather have your help marketing my stories than take your cash, so if you enjoy my work, please support me with kudos and reblogs. Thanks!

Honestly, I’m not altogether thrilled with this fic. I struggle with shorter (ha!) pieces because, as those of you who have read Be-All And Endor will know, I’m much more comfortable playing the long game and writing things where I can focus on character development, foreshadow future events, reference and call back concepts, and do a heck of a lot of worldbuilding. So to me, this feels like it lacks depth because it’s a very simple and straightforward concept that lacks a full-on conflict/resolution arc, and as a character study it’s nothing that hasn’t been done before. I’ve also been struggling to write something I felt was good enough to publish in the wake of Be-All. I don’t think this passes muster, but in the end, I realised I had to just post something – anything – simply to get past that fear of doing it. So I hope this was interesting enough to at least hold your attention! I suppose I could write a part 3 where they have their date and the smut happens, but to be honest, I have several other smutty fics in the works that have much better setups, so I think I should focus on those. I might come back to this one day, though.

Tags requested…

@aheadfullofsteverogers @alltheotps @axolotllover225 @burntheedges @copperhalfcent

@dindenimchicken @feekedbeat @foomoosworld @jude77 @penvisions

@pigeonmama @secretelephanttattoo @stagerightlauren @the-mandawhor1an @titlee78

I tagged those below in part 1 due to interest in my series masterlist and WIP snippets (comments/reblogs). Nobody told me off for my audacity, so I’m hoping you’ll enjoy part 2 also…

@604to647 @cheekychaos28 @djarinmuse @gingerlurk

@joelalorian @kyberblade @readingupsidedown @sunflowersunlight7-blog

@thefrogdalorian @whataenginerd @wrathkitty