#i might just upload them on my ao3 as well

[rkived]

Hey,

I've been wanting to read pining 101 but the drabble links aren't opening? Did u delete the drabbles by any chance?

hi yes that’s bc i changed my user and was too lazy to also change the url on the pining 101 drabbles lmao i’ll get to it ….

[luxeberries]

now on ao3

One day, in mid August of ‘85, Dustin shows up at Steve’s front door, completely unannounced. It’s the middle of the night and Steve has half the mind to reprimand Dustin about curfew and biking alone in the dark. But when his vision finally focuses on Dustin’s expression, Steve sees panic in his eyes; fear. At first, his heart plummets and he thinks not again, not so soon. But then Dustin says-

“I killed that guy. Didn’t I?”

And every other thought in Steve’s mind crumbles like ash. 

“The Russian,” Dustin clarifies in Steve’s silence. “The doctor.” 

Steve remembers. 

Bald, round glasses. 

Stale coffee breath. 

Pliers pulling his nail. 

He can’t speak, throat closing up. 

Dustin keeps talking, rambling like Robin does when she’s panicked. “They used those cattle prods to stun demogorgons, Steve. Do you have any idea how many volts that thing held? He- He fell, like-”

“Dustin,” Steve says - rasps it out because his throat is dry but he needs to stop Dustin’s spiral. 

Rendered silent, Dustin looks up at Steve with wide, glistening eyes. He’s expecting an answer, but Steve doesn’t have one. He can’t think beyond the sight of Dustin standing before him in a matching pajama set and untied shoes, like he didn’t have the time or mind to fasten them up because he was in too much of a rush to come here. To seek out Steve, in the middle of the night. Steve, who should be able to help because that’s his job; he’s the protector, the older brother Dustin can come to for comfort. 

Except that Steve was woken with a start just five minutes ago when Dustin started pounding on his front door and he thought it was the Russians coming back for him, his mind still half lost to the nightmare he was having; all blood and bone saws and Robin’s screams. Part of him is itching to call her, like maybe she somehow died back there and Steve has been imagining her this whole time and he just needs to hear her mom answer the phone and say, ‘Yeah, she’s right here, honey’. 

But he remembers Dustin charging in, remembers watching him strike the doctor right in the chest and how he fell to the ground, limp, and didn’t get back up. Knows that everyone is safe, no matter what his brain tries to tell him. Robin and Erica are sleeping in their beds, and Dustin is standing on his front door step, bike discarded on the ground next to the Bimmer. 

Steve takes a deep breath and says, “Get in here.” 

He ushers Dustin in with a hand on the back of his neck, locking the door behind them, and heads to the living room. Dustin just keeps looking at him, like Steve has all the answers. Like Steve can make it all better. Can say the voltage wouldn’t have killed him, as if the possibility that he’s still out there wouldn’t send himself into a panic attack. 

“Steve,” Dustin says, and it sounds like a plea; the way his voice lisps, wet and small. 

He’s only thirteen.

“I killed a person,” Dustin says. 

And Steve gets it, sort of. It doesn’t matter that the person Dustin killed was evil and cruel, just like it didn’t matter that Billy Hargrove was about to kill Lucas when Steve stepped in between them. He still didn’t want to hurt someone. Each punch felt like too much, like if he punched any harder, he’d do some serious damage. And Billy would have deserved it - as horrible as it feels to think that after his sacrifice - but Steve didn’t want to be the one to do it. That’s not who he is. He’s a protector, not a fighter. Not a killer. That breaks something in a person, as is made clear by the crack in Dustin’s voice. It took something from him. The little bit of innocence Dustin had left. 

“Yeah,” Steve says, quiet and almost apologetic. “You did.” 

Dustin’s face falls, as if he really did want Steve to say otherwise. But avoiding the truth won’t help anything. 

“But- But you saved me, okay?” he says, like he’s asking if that truth is enough.

Dustin’s eyes flash with something Steve can’t identify. 

“Me and Robin,” Steve continues. “You saved us. If you hadn’t done what you did- What you had to do…”

His nightmares have answered that hypothetical too well. 

He shakes it off, puts his hand on Dustin’s shoulder instead.

“You saved us. You did good, Dustin. Okay? That’s what’s important here.” 

Dustin's face crumples and before Steve can blink, he’s got an armful of the kid. He’s still bruised, ribs only just recovering from the break, and it hurts. But he wraps Dustin up in his arms and lets him cry into his shoulder, wetting the thin fabric through. 

"Hey, it's okay," Steve soothes, voice low. "You're okay. I've got you, buddy."

He’s not coddling him or trying to get him to stop crying- he just talks so Dustin knows he’s there. Tells him how grateful he is for Dustin taking care of him and Robin when they were messed up, for being so brave when he busted into that room. He talks until Dustin is quiet against him, left with his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist and his face pressed into Steve’s shoulder. He doesn’t move for a while, but Steve doesn’t mind - just rubs his back and rests his cheek against his curls. 

“Your mom know you’re here?” he asks softly. 

Dustin shakes his head. 

“You wanna stay here tonight?” 

Dustin nods. 

Steve checks his watch over Dustin’s shoulder. It’s almost midnight. He sighs. 

“Remind me to send her flowers or something as an apology for waking her up right now,” Steve says, light-hearted, trying to make Dustin laugh.

But Dustin just sniffles, guilty. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no. It’s fine. Take your shoes off and head on upstairs, yeah? I’ll call your mom and tell her you’re with me.” 

Dustin pulls back, wipes his wet nose with his sleeve and Steve tries not to cringe. 

“Thanks, Steve.”

It’s not entirely selfless, calling Dustin’s mom. If he calls Mrs Henderson, he can call Robin right after without Dustin knowing. He has a feeling she’ll be awake at this time too anyway. He thinks he might call the Sinclairs as well, wants to make sure Erica is okay. 

And as long as Dustin stays the night, Steve knows that at least he’s safe, spread out right beside him, taking up the whole bed. Can make sure Dustin sleeps through the night, can be there if he has a nightmare that his mom wouldn’t be able to calm him down from. 

Steve ruffles Dustin’s hair, smiling at how he pushes into it like a cat. “It’s no problem.”

[ceiling-karasu]

Jollin and the Festival

The afternoon before the start of the Dano Dragon Boat festival, Nayeon greeted Jollin as he returned home from his rounds, chattering happily as usual. As the spring crops came in around her family farm, the bunny had come by multiple times in the past few weeks to borrow the cart he used for larger courier and mail deliveries around his assigned area of Flower Hill.

Jollin did not mind. Nayeon only borrowed it when she knew he was going to have a light load the next day, or had the day off. And besides, letting her borrow the cart increased the chances of her gifting him a few extra bits of produce as a neighborly thanks, a luxury unheard of back when he was a half-starved laborer in the Weasel Kingdoms.

The entire community seemed to think he was too malnourished for his own good, not knowing that his thinner body and less fluffy tail was due to him being a dormouse scout for the enemy, and not actually a squirrel as they assumed. He dreaded to think about what would happen if they figured it out. Then again, instead of publicly exposing him, they would likely contact the Cherry Valley command center, who would explain that yes, he had actually defected long ago, and was happily being used as bait to lure out other scouts who may have escaped the roundup of the other Tokgasi agents. Or so the hedgehog and squirrel commander had assumed, and continued to believe.

“…I do hope you are able to attend the festival, tomorrow! I just hope it is not interrupted by the Weasel Unit, but surely not even they would be inconsiderate enough to attack a peaceful festival when an international crowd is around. Even I get to perform on stage in the afternoon! I have been practicing in every free moment I get! But I won’t tell you what I am performing. It’s a secret you will have to see for yourself,” Nayeon could hardly keep still as she laughed, bold and shy at the same time.

Jollin could guess that she would probably perform a dance, perhaps in tune to some folk music, or even an opera song. Over the last few weeks, she had taken to wearing a traditional hanbok- or chosŏn-ot, as Flower Hill called them- in every spare moment, twirling as she moved. Even Jollin had noticed her gracefulness, which made her a prime candidate for one of the floating dances performed on the peninsula. He had heard of those, although it had previously been a delicate spectacle reserved only for the weasels and other upper class groups in their mansions and theaters. Granted, she still had to work, so the chima was not as long as to cover the boots, and was not adorned in complex patterns, but she would likely be wearing a proper version at the festival. Still, even he knew not to spoil the surprise, needing to fake some cheerfulness and mimic the excitement of the fools of the country.

“Oh! I simply cannot wait! The Command Center does need me to deliver a few packages tomorrow, but I bet they will need to be taken to the festival anyway,” he laughed. Really, the commanders had already approached him with intel that another Tokgasi agent was to appear at the festival, and wanted him, the supposed defector, to hunt them down. “But it will be getting dark soon! You had best be on your way home so you can help the others with the crops! Otherwise, you will all have to do it in the dark, and that can be dangerous! You might oversleep.”

“Yes, sir!” The bunny tittered She waved, then quickly moved down the path and around the hills towards her home, pulling the cart.

Jollin was not necessarily worried about Nayeon being out alone in the dark. Granted, the Tokgasi survivors were hiding out in the area, but it was unlikely they would go for her. There was a danger of a rouge scout taking her hostage to try and get the dormouse courier to shelter them, of course, thinking that they were close friends. But he knew that despite her looks, Nayeon had already been through the mandatory conscription of Flower Hill. She should know how to fight off an attacker, especially given her grandfather being a top general.

Which made him wonder if she was really the happy, bubbly bunny she appeared to be. As far as he was concerned, his paranoia over her being a plant by Cherry Valley was fully justified. Particularly after her grandfather, the doddering old retired soldier, who would absentmindedly, in his loneliness and age, give away secrets about Flower Hill’s defenses and movements, had turned out to be a fully in charge general, who was feeding him false information as part of a Flower Hill plot to use an enemy scout to destabilize the opposing army. Apparently, Flower Hill, as with other nations, were surprisingly fine with allowing a scout to live and work in their homeland. However, the fact that the scout was not sending the false information back to his handlers as they had planned was an actual problem, as it meant that Weasel Unit forces were not falling into traps that had been set up. It forced the general to drop his charade early out of frustration, and for the Flower Hill commanders to formally induct him as a defector from the enemy.

So, what about his granddaughter, Nayeon? Living so close to the Command Center, it was possible that her role to play was to casually drop information on what he should be doing, in a way that would not sound like an order, should he prove obstinate to demands. Come to the festival, a loud place he had no interest in, and stand near a stage, possibly to meet up and chat with a ‘friendly’ hedgehog about infiltration he had seen other than the Weasel Unit soldiers who had been purposefully invited.

On the other hand, she could simply be that innocent, somehow. It would be a bad idea to question her. If it was the latter, and she found out he was one of the enemies? I wouldn’t see her as often. There would go all the extra food, and news from around Flower Hill that he did need to pass on to his handlers. As far as he could tell, she had no parents, and lived with her grandfather, and given the current war and occupations, there was usually a reason for that.

So, being a bit paranoid about what he said and did was reasonable. The commanders and the soldiers saw it as typical mouse nervousness, while the citizens out of conscription saw him as a poor shellshocked victim from the border, afraid to make friends in case he lost them again. Let both those groups believe that. It makes it easier to meet up with Tokgasi alone.

Which was another reason Jollin needed Nayeon to leave so early. He could see the smudge on one of the stones leading up to the walkway to his house his own house. Someone like him, a Tokgasi scout, would easily recognize the faint Weasel Unit symbol on the ground, signaling that there was a message for him. Jollin lay a hand on the fence post, waiting for Nayeon to shift positions, so the straw hat hanging off his back would block her view of his hand snatching the calling card from Tokgasi affixed to the fence post.

My own house. He hardly could have dreamed of having his own private residence in his previous country. Small, but his own. His own bedroom, a main room, working plumbing in a bathroom, and closets for extra clothing of all things. And the fools had just given this to him, either thinking he was one of their own, or had happily switched sides.

He could get an even greater house if he gave Flower Hill over to Tokgasi and the Weasel Unit. A larger home, with luxuries Flower Hill eschewed, maybe even his own servants, as he had seen other mice get for procuring a great victory for their weasel masters, should they be so inclined.

And perhaps, despite how nice they had been, the thought that Flower Hill fully deserved destruction for their inaction towards the suffering taking place in Usuhan Jiyeog still arose. Just sitting back and not interfering as his people starved and died of sickness, hardly having a care in the world about those who had slighted them generations ago. Jollin had seen the firepower around Cherry Valley and elsewhere, knew that with precision strikes they could have easily wiped out the leaders and most of the Weasel Unit, making their country safer, but they were too soft to do so. Once the weasels were gone, most of the mice would likely starve to death without overseers telling them what to do, so Flower Hill should not have to worry about that.

Still, the firepower he had been allowed to casually see gave him pause in reporting anything.

Either way, there would be a meeting tonight. The message noted to leave the door unlocked.

……………………………………………………………………….

The hill in front of his house blocked his view of the valley below, and he assumed that hedgehogs would spy on him from there. Which meant it was a perfect area for Tokgasi and his agents, along with other scouts, to survey as well to make sure they were not being watched.

The mice gathered in the main room, some watching the windows to make sure no one snuck up on the house. Nervous fools, Jollin noted. One of these days, during one of these meetings, someone was going to make a mistake and capture a hedgehog who passed by, instead of hiding. The smarter infiltrators had run away when Tokgasi’s scout ring had collapsed, helped by Jollin’s instructions on the lax security that appeared during specific times. He had heard the other mice whispering rumors of Geumbanji’s mercenary group running a series of safe-houses for deserters, ending somewhere near the border of Chaand Hadia.

Which, while an odd tactic for mercenaries to use, made perfect sense. Geumbanji himself needed to lie low, now that Flower Hill had realized he was a traitor, and with other countries likely keeping a lookout for him as well, he might be bored. Besides, he would get money, news, and supplies from the traffic, while Flower Hill could watch a steady stream of soldiers leave the ranks of the Weasel Unit. The gold ringed mouse could run his mercenary operation from anywhere.

Fleeing to Chaand Hadia had also been one of his possible routes for desertion, but the stories he had heard about the endless food supply and idiotic citizens of Flower Hill who would just give him things had been too tempting. Besides, he would rather see if the foreign country he knew almost nothing about would actually welcome mice and allow them to assimilate. Best not to be among the first. Even if not, he could still hide somewhere.

But that was not important at the moment. Tokgasi was giving him orders.

“We have finally managed to make contact with the second scout we have embedded around the Command Center. We know that he will be at the festival working security, which is good for us to sneak in. Once you make your deliveries, seek him out and give him this message,” Tokgasi handed him a light pink data chip. “These will give him his next instructions.”

“Activating the sleeper agent, eh?” Jollin snickered, trying his best to sound like a typical mouse, fawning over his boss.

“Naturally! It is time that we start to make our moves to prepare to strike.” Tokgasi smiled back, all previous suspicion of Jollin being a traitor who deserted gone from his mind

“Alright, it should be easy enough, sir! I will complete my mission!” Jollin saluted properly.

The other mice smiled and cheered softly, not wanting to arouse suspicion from outside, if anyone was lurking.

Well, this is interesting. Two Weasel Unit scouts embedded in the command center could spell doom for Flower Hill. But Flower Hill also expected him to find a scout at the festival, which meant that they might already know, betraying the remainder of his own little group of friends.

Jollin supposed he would have to see how it would go.

…………….

End Part One

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

Fanfic Thieves on Youtube

A collection of youtube channels have been uploading preexisting fanfictions in videos with little to no credit to the original authors. These are not podfics, these channels copy-paste the fics into text-to-speech readers then upload the unaltered audio over static or unrelated backgrounds, either art that is also stolen or mobile game footage. In addition to not naming the authors, they alter the title to make it that much harder for readers to recognize or find the original uploads. Some go so far as to pretend they themselves are creating the fics in question. Many claim that their stealing actually helps give fics "exposure" despite the intentional steps they take to conceal the origins of the fics they profit off of. However, this practice has lead many authors to discontinue fics after the frustration of having their hard work stolen. Many of these channels claim they will remove videos upon request, but will either argue with the author in order to keep it up, or simply unlist the video for a time until they think the author isn't paying attention anymore. And their solution to receiving strikes against their channels in the past has been to further obfuscate the origins of their content instead of even considering asking first.

”I got caught stealing, so instead of not stealing anymore, I’m doubling down on stealing even more so it’s harder for people to find out and prove I’m stealing. Stealing doesn't count if the specific person I stole from didn't call me out. I am the real victim.”

That, plus the incessant tag scumming in all the videos (spamming unrelated tags in order to appear in more search results) proves to me that these are lazy attention seekers who don't want to put in creative effort when they could just leech off of the passion of others.

In order to report them, go to their channel's "About" page and click the flag icon. Said icon might be behind the three dots in the top bar on mobile. Go to "Report User" at the bottom and tick the "spam and scams" button. This will allow you to list multiple videos as offenders instead of reporting them individually. Youtube's policy states that video spam constitutes:

Massively uploading content that you scraped from other creators.

Auto-generated content that computers post without regard for quality or viewer experience.

If you recognize one of your fics among the stolen, say so in the additional comments box, and perhaps call out the channel directly in the video's comments. If you recognize someone else's fic, please let the original author know so they can report the channel as well. Many have been confronted for stealing previously and refuse to admit wrongdoing.

Most of what I've found has been My Hero Academia fics since that's my fandom and those are the ones I can recognize as stolen, but there are many other channels that steal from other fandoms, so I invite anyone and everyone to reblog this with their own findings.

The reality is that this extremely low-effort content and new youtube channels are both very easy to make, so most likely they'll start new channels once the ones on this list are run through. But hopefully, if we all work together and keep whacking these moles, perhaps we can instill that same defeatism they caused so many creators who didn't deserve it, and eventually they'll give up.

My sincerest thanks to everyone who helped bring additional channels to my attention. A special thanks to ao3 user InArduisFidelis who brought the initial attention to the issue, and @owlf45 whose work was stolen.

Links under the cut.

YurikoFanfics - Not only stole content, but acted in comments as though they were the one writing these stories.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@YurikoFanfics

What-IF-Anime - Has the exact same "disclaimer" about not being the original author as the one above. Either they're the same person or the thieves are stealing from each other.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@What-IF-Anime

quirkywhatif7 - Either an alt of the above, or all these people are talking to one another because this one made a community post identical to a comment the one above made in response to being called out (the above screenshots).

https://www.youtube.com/@quirkywhatif7/about

DekuFanfic - It's the same fucking guy again.

https://www.youtube.com/@DekuFanfic/about

InfiniteParadoxfanfics - Nothing notable, same deal as the others.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@InfiniteParadoxfanfics/about

WhatIfAnimeChannel - Admits in their community posts that other people write the fics they post but still doesn't give credit. Migrated to a new channel after issues with youtube, likely being flagged previously.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfAnimeChannel/about

WhatIfAnimeAll - Alt of above.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfAnimeAll

FWNWorld - Makes sure to tell you that the videogame footage is theirs, but can't bother to credit anyone else.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@FWNWorld/about

WTFW - Claims to have "[A] team of talented writers, voice actors, and artists work together to create immersive fan fiction stories that are sure to captivate your imagination." Just the same test-to-speech stolen content over videogames. So straight up lying claiming that everything is theirs (and that anything they make is quality).

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WTFW

MHA2.0Fanfics - Lots of crossover theft.

https://www.youtube.com/@MHA2.0Fanfics/about

Collerwhatiif - Pretty sure this one is the same guy as the previous 2, also has one for another fandom.

https://www.youtube.com/@Collerwhatiif/about

https://www.youtube.com/@GoJoFanfiction/videos

ko_sensei - Another that claims to have a "team" that makes the stories they steal: " passionate about creating compelling and engaging fanfiction that explores the various "what ifs" in the anime universe."

https://www.youtube.com/@ko_sensei/about

FantasticWhatIf - Multifandom stealing, uses the exact same bs disclaimer as many others.

https://www.youtube.com/@FantasticWhatIf/about

LettuceHeadFanfics - No credit, no acknowledgement of anything. Next one is an alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@LettuceHeadFanfics/about

brocollifanfics - Alt of above, once again admits to stealing with a declaration of "☆If you want to takedown any videos. You can mail us or leave a comment below the video☆"

https://www.youtube.com/@brocollifanfics/about

whatifofficial786 - Focuses on MHA/Naruto crossovers. Identical format.

https://www.youtube.com/@whatifofficial786/about

NotWhatIf - I've lost track of who's an alt of who but yet another identical format, descriptions, and bullshit claims of "enhancing the viewer experience" by putting a robot voice over bootleg fortnite footage.

https://www.youtube.com/@NotWhatIf/about

weebxds - Same again.

https://www.youtube.com/@weebxds/about

ItachiFanfics - Naruto channel, we can at least confirm that this one is run by a human given the rare different descriptions and a real voice at the beginning of videos before the robot comes back.

https://www.youtube.com/@ItachiFanfics/about

WhatIfDN - As if mockingly, a bunch of videos have a "credit" section in their descriptions that is of course blank.

https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfDN/about

SpiceandBooks and spiceandfiction - Apparently Youtube itself has started picking up on the bullshit, because this multifandom channel is being dinged as ai spam so they started a new one.

https://www.youtube.com/@SpiceandBooks/about

https://www.youtube.com/@spiceandfiction/about

theoriginalastra - Doesn't even bother with disclaimers, the following are multiple alts/potential alts for different fandoms.

https://www.youtube.com/@theoriginalastra/about

SillySenpai12 - Highschool DXD alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@SillySenpai12/about

RosieRealms - Naruto alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@RosieRealms/about

DekuWhatIfs - Potentially another astra alt but not sure, doesn't matter because all these channels do the same thing anyway.

AnimeStark688 - No credits or disclaimers.

https://www.youtube.com/@AnimeStark688/about

Please take the time to report these channels, spread this post around, and reblog with any additional offending channels you find.

[everytimewetouch-dot-mp3]

Do you have recs for "novel long SVSSS fic"? I am running out. Very sad

a lot of these are explicit jsyk—also if anyone knows the writers tumblrs, please please tag them. i checked ao3 and didn’t find any but i worry i might have missed them

I just finished the divide between autumn and spring, which had me in tears for A While; it’s so beautiful. sy as a disciple -> peak lord with sj; kind of shen brothers and bingyuan. the writer, sareyen, has uploaded a few extras too!

dual cultivation or date by @acernor is the novel-length sequel to dual cultivation or die. a bingliushen feast holy shit. the dynamic btw the three of them is,,,,, so much to me. so well written (and hot holy christ)

protagonist rehabilitation programme by cinnamonsnaps is a classic it’s so good. modern au binggeyuan, bingge is NOT suited to the modern world lmao

when will we see this moon next year by caecandy is so emotionally gripping omg. bingliushen, sy has depression and handles it as well as sy ever would.

split the difference by ehann is shen twins with a ✨twist✨. the archive warning is due to sj’s backstory iirc.

two steps downward by wirevix is a system reveal + ‘sqq goes with binghe to the abyss’ au, ft. a Special Guy (do i mean bingge? who could say?)

there are currently 70 read svsss fics on my kindle and 24 unread, most 20k+ words so there’s…a lot to sort through mentally lol. those are some of the most recent novel-length fics id recommend!

[kuwdora]

A Vidding Primer

A guide written for @wren-of-the-woods who asked for advice about how to start vidding! This is far from comprehensive and I tried not to make it too dense because it's a big subject. I still wanted to share a variety of topics about getting into vidding because it's a hobby and art that is near and dear to my heart.

First Piece of Advice

watch a lot of vids and rewatch vids multiple times. Seek out vids on YouTube, AO3, Watch the TikTok and Twitter/X vids that show up on tumblr or wherever you’re browsing. They all have distinct styles and tools/techniques they use to make their vids and edits. Rewatch the vids and ask yourself what you like or dislike about them. The song, the editing, the source. That can give you a good starting point about how you might want to approach making your own fanvids. The TikTok style of 30 and 40 second edits are very different what you find on YouTube. YouTube editors tend to use a full song and a lot more effects and a lot more overlapping dialogue. Whereas the fanvids - Vids - from people who came into vidding in the mid 2000s/2010s have their own culture, different ways they approach song choice, clip choices and narrative. I also suggest watching vids for shows/films you’re not familiar with as well as your fandom favorites. You can learn a lot about how vidders try to tell a story even when you might not grasp the context behind certain scenes but you can still follow along with the emotional arc of the vid.

Second Piece of Advice

Have fun and enjoy yourself. Everyone starts a new hobby as a newbie. It can be a lot of effort to make 30 seconds or a 3 minute vid, but it’s such a unique type of fanwork that is fun to watch and fun to make. It can also be migraine inducing because of all the learning and technical issues along the way. But!! omg when you make a clip fall on the perfect beat with your blorbo crying that perfect tear or you find an idea and sources for the bestest perfect lyrics of the song, it’s a magnificent high. It can make you feel like a god. At least that’s how I feel a lot of times!

There are about 10 steps* to creating** a fanvid/edit:

• select your platform and software (phone/computer video editors) • gather your video and audio files • create a new project in your video editor • import audio into the editor • import the video into the software and mute audio tracks that contain your video’s audio • review, label and cut up the video into shorter clips - this step is known as ‘clipping’ in vidding parlance, but it’s also optional. Some people pull in movies and scrub through the whole film and just pull it directly onto the timeline • move the various video clips around on the timeline to match the audio track you’ve chosen for your project, add video effects and additional dialogue if you like • export the finished timeline • upload the video to a streaming platform and/or downloadable service • share your project!!! posting to ao3 and/or social media or share on discord, etc * there are a lot more steps involved with each of these steps. What what software to use, where to find video, how to deal with copyright blocks on Youtube, etc. Some of that will be covered in the links below but is not comprehensive. That would require separate posts and links and I don’t want to drop an encyclopedia on you right now! I’m happy to provide more resources that I can curate if you want more direction and pointers to resources and amazing vidders.

** like any hobby, there can and will be a learning curve and frustrations. Blank page for a writer, blank timeline for a vidder. Is anything you put down is any good, self esteem and confusion about what actually makes sense is part and parcel for any creative work. Once you're in the vidding process and committed, as long as you're enjoying yourself you gotta just keep going to get it done.

Getting Started Vidding

My knowledge and background and learning how to vid from people on livejournal and dreamwidth from 2007. I don’t have any experience in editing with a phone but if that’s something you’re interested in, YouTube will be a place for you to start finding tutorials for various apps and tools. Probably discord communities, too. Vidding Workshop - a great how-to/guide when you're starting out. This is on dreamwidth from the WisCon vidparty in 2014. Some of the tech discussions might be a little outdated but there’s a ton of relevant information. It covers technical subjects as well as developing vid ideas and actually getting started. If you have any questions about what you’re reading you can leave an anonymous comment and ask - some of these vidders responding inthe threads are still active. You can find them on AO3/YouTube, tumblr, discord and actually leave them questions about their vids. Many vidders are more than thrilled to talk about their vids and answer questions. Vexcercises - this is a dreamwidth community for short-form vid excercises. This is a very structured way of introducing vid concepts and constraints so that you can produce a vidlet. I highly recommend you check this out and participate! There’s even an AO3 collection so you can check out how people have done the different exercises, too.

The Process of Vidding

Watch Me Edit - @limblogs put together a fantastic playlist of YouTube editors who will show you beginning to end how they made their vid. A lot of these editors appear to be using Sony Vegas but the general process of vidding end-to-end will be similar with other nonlinear editors like DaVinci Resolve, Premiere, etc. It’s a great way to actually see the vid come together if you don’t know what that even looks like. Every vidder will develop their own workflow and approach (which might even change from vid to vid), but it’s useful to see in video how people actually DO the thing. @limblogs also created a handy YouTube playlist some vidders from Bradcpu’s Vidder Profiles (Fanlore page). These profiles are basically like a director’s DVD commentary on their vidding process, featuring the vidders talking over their own vids! So cool. Phenomnal insights from these vidders about how they choose song, use effects, think about their narratives.

Self Rec: I recently did a vidding textpost series called: do it for the process - a naked vid draft: What (Yennefer of Vengerberg). How I Edit by @vimesbootstheory is another textpost about their vidding process. Self rec: Here’s my text interview: Vidder Profile - Kuwdora 2011. I talk about my process with a lot of specific examples from my previous work and lots of screenshots. This profile is over a decade old but a lot of this still holds true for me today! videlicet - this is an incredible vidding zine that @limblogs put togegther with a lot of amazing contributors. These articles and discuss about specific vids and aspects of vidding. It’s really detailed and a fantastic piece of vidding culture. I highly reading recommend the Demystifying Vidding article by lim and the A History of Vidding by @meeedeee and…pretty much every article in the zine!

Doing the vidding!

I recommend joining exchanges and watching vids that come out of exchanges and checking out fannish cons that have vidshows and discords to get more exposure to vidders and vids. Many people have joined @festivids (AO3 collection here) and made their very first vid, it's a very fun and great way to get into vidding. It’s not quite festivids season right now but time flies and it will be time to nominate sources and do sign-ups in the blink of an eye. Follow @festivids and check out the AO3 collection and see what people are making. Join the Vexcercises community and make some short vids and share them on your tumblr or on discord or somewhere and bask in the thrill of making your first fanvids. Check out who reblogged the vidder ask game - go and read other vidders responses and ask some new-to-you vidders questions. Everyone has their own take on process and tech and everything. It's great to hear and see what a lot people are doing and making.

Final Advice - talking about vids and doing the vidding

• watch vids • rewatch vids • leave a comment and ask a question about something you saw in their vid! • Again: find someone’s AO3 page of fanvids and ask them something about their vid in a comment or send them asks on tumblr (people usually have the same alias or link to their tumblr or dreamwidth pages somewhere.) • YouTube can be a valuable resource for tutorials so if you don't know something, there is likely someone who has made a tutorial about how to use a cross dissolve transition or anything else you might want to replicate in a video that you've seen in a vid. • start making a vid, scream and cry, ask for help, and keep going until you get it done. Celebrate and bask in your completed vid and share it with everyone! • Follow vidders on tumblr that you find from the vidder ask game • Check out the vidding discord for community and questions and vid recs and news about vidding exchanges and cons. • Have fun!

Hope this helps you get started! Thank you so much for the ask! Let me know if you have more questions and I can help you out or send you to cool vidders who have great advice and suggestions. And please send me your vid if you make one!

[monayen]

Ouuu maybe something where Sebastian finally snaps ( ´ ▽ ` )

there is like no fics about him x reader!

Hungry | Sebastian

➷ Paring - Sebastian x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - Noncon, fingering, choking, breath play, rough, mental break, unsafe sex

a/n - sometimes it hits me that im writing freakiness with a character who has de tomato smith chicken legs in his name. yes i'm still writing... inbox open for any requests or ideas, i love to see them still :3 (oh and if you like charlie from smiling friends i have a fic uploaded on my ao3)

Sebastian doesn't know how long it's been since he's had a good meal. His stomach aches for something delicious, and he can feel how his body slightly trembles at the growing malnutrition.

He's gotten used to a lot of things since his “adoption”, but hunger isn't one of them. The mush Randal attempts to give is questionably edible (and probably not safe for the human body) and Luther believes a “sustainable” mixture of bland, flavorless ingredients is enough to satiate.

The pressure in his head can also be accredited to Randal’s voice. He's lost track of what he's rambling about today. Something about ghosts, he deduces, and he much prefers not to listen. He just wants to go to sleep, he really does, but his throat itches and he's reminded that Randal has neglected once again to refill his water bowl. 

“Can I, uh, get some water?” Sebastian asks, interrupting the trainwreck-train of thought spewing out of Randal’s mouth. “I thought you got water like three days ago! You thirsty boy.” Randal cocks his head to the side and Sebastian can only sigh in response.

“I need it every day. Food and water every day.” It's fruitless to try to get him to remember, but his lightheadedness is getting worse, and he just wants to be properly taken care of. 

Randal shrugs, turning his focus to one of his dolls, tugging at the flimsy cloth arm before it completely rips off. A dark, small thing crawls out of the fluff, and immediately scampers into a vent in Randal’s room. He doesn't note it and tosses the torn doll to a shadowy corner in his room, probably not to be seen again.

“Eh, go ask someone else.”

Sebastian doesn't waste time to exit the room, already cycling to the next person who could actually listen to him. He grits, the ache growing in his stomach and head becoming almost unbearable. 

He just needs to find you, which… he doesn't actually know where you are. As much as he’s tried to understand this house, it's complicated and confusing. It brings him back to his thoughts of you. 

You're everything this house isn't.

You’ve been here longer than him, listed as one of Luther’s pets. However, you’ve seemed to actually gain some independence from that. Different from the adherents that are Nyen and Nyon, instead being more akin to a housemate. 

You also don't seem to have any of the… oddities that everyone else has. No crude whiskers or unblinking eyes. You’re allowed your own wardrobe, nothing like the frills and puffs he has to wear. It's almost taunting how pretty and kempt you are.

It’s actually a bit interesting how Luther could allow this, but he assumes you pull your own weight enough to be well fed and unbothered. Sebastian scoffs, how fortunate is that?

Both of you haven't actually interacted that much, and it only serves to add to that untouchable status he's framed around you.

You are in your own world, independent and capable of leaving. But you don't. You continue to stay and wander around the house without a care. While Sebastian is stuck as a poor entertainer at for a bizarre young man, scrambling for any chance of freedom.

Despite this, you don't actually torment him in any way that matters. His envy does run deep, but you're the closest thing to a saving grace right now. He knows the catmen don't really care, and Luther might just shoo him away like the nuisance he is.

Finally, after checking room after room, he spots you sitting on a vintage leather couch with an unmarked book resting on your lap that definitely would be hard to read with how dim the lights are. 

He hovers in the doorway, unsure how to start a conversation. His eyes also don't know where exactly to look, do you realize your skirt is riding up?

You beat him to say something, looking up at him through your lashes, “Hi Sebastian. Do you need something?”

You're as courteous as ever, offering a small smile that doesn't help at all to calm Sebastian’s nerves. 

“Do you have anything to eat?”

You set aside your book and give him a look he can't place. Now up and off your seat to get closer to him, he can see how your brows furrow and lips purse. Suddenly, soft hands grip at the side of his face, and he stammers reactively.

“God, you look terrible. You poor thing.” It comes out sickly sweet, the proximity only heightening the warmth spreading over his freckled face. 

“I–I know…” He sighs, not moving from your touch, “Please, can you just feed me?” 

It sounds pathetic, but at this point he's practically begging for something, anything from you. He relaxes when he hears you giggle, hands leaving his face. 

He sees you walk over to the nightstand drawer beside the couch, rummaging through it before pulling out… a stick of jerky and a juice-pouch, setting it on top in all it's glory.

It isn't much, but it's enough for Sebastian to practically salivate and let out a sound of relief. It could be stale for all he cares, as long as he can taste the added sugar and salt, he’s happy. He almost wants to jump into your arms and thank you.

“Ah, that's perfect–”

You cut him off, a smile planted on your face, “What are you going to do for it?” 

It catches Sebastian completely off guard, mouth agape, “What?” 

You don't falter at all, sitting on the couch as you stare at Sebastian’s shaking figure, “C’mon, you play with Randal all the time, don't you? How about we play something?” 

Sebastian doesn't know how to respond. He's tired, hungry, and growing frustrated. Your voice stays sweet and it provokes a realization, how stupid is it to think you of all people could give him some slack? You aren't any different than the rest of these weirdos, no matter how you hold yourself. 

His stomach growls on cue, and Sebastian can't seem to shake this feverish feeling anymore.

You notice the lack of a response, his face shaded by the dim lighting. Deciding to only poke him further, “...Unless, you aren't really that hungry.”

You don't realize how his fists ball on the side of him, teeth slightly gritting to push out his words, “Just give it.” 

A small laugh leaves your grinning mouth, teasing and like nails on a chalkboard to Sebastian’s ears, “Ooo,” You sing, “feisty!” 

Sebastian’s nostrils flare for a second, seemingly thinking something. He’s red, and his lips tremble ever so slightly. You stare intensely as he pauses and huffs before making his way towards the nightstand. 

“Another time.” He simply states, an unrecognizable irk coating his words. You don't allow this, grabbing his arm as he reaches out for the food.

“I said,” The same saccharine smile stays across your face, “what are you going to do for it?

A switch almost seems to flip in Sebastian’s brain. You don't get to comment on the deep redness that adorns his cheeks, before he suddenly grips you by your shoulders and pins you down on the couch.

Yelping, you trash against his grasp as he hovers over you. He's breathing heavily, his chest drumming up and down as you push your hands against it.

“W-wait!” Sebastian doesn't care about what you have to say. It's all stupid words, stupid words out of your pretty mouth. His head is still reeling, and he doesn't know where the strength to keep you down is coming from.

All he knows is that he's the one with control right now. Something he hasn't had for a long time.

“Stop moving!” He huffs, eyes wide as he grasps the bottom of your shirt and bra, flipping it up to expose you.

His movements are almost thoughtless, as if a ghost possessed him to cup your breast and snake fingers between your thighs. Thoughtless doesn't make it any less rough, and soon enough your bottom half is exposed too.

“Listen, Sebastian, you– you can just have it! I was only messing around!” You try to excuse yourself, but his hand remains groping at your body like you're the first soft thing he's had to hold in forever.  As if you're going to be ripped away from his hands at any second. 

His erection pokes at your pinned down hip, the fabric of his outfit practically straining him. “I don't listen to you.” Sebastian spits, nor loud or quiet. 

It's directly for you to hear.

More words sprew from his mouth. “You think you can just taunt me? Mess with me? Like everyone else?” They come out faster than you can respond, jaw hanging open to croak out any excuse. 

“Shut up, I don't wanna hear it.” He suddenly moves and flips you over onto your stomach, head pressed down onto the aged leather of the couch, hands forced behind your back.

“I need this.” Those words are whispered to himself, low and dark. If you could look at him directly in the face, you’d see the cloudy look overcasting his eyes, the sweat that builds on his forehead, and the furrow of his brows as he looks at your figure. The dim room isn't enough to hide you.

All you can see is leather and flipped strands of hair in your vision. Instead you can only focus on the sound of his deep, shaky breath. Along with the sound of him shuffling to remove his own clothes. He moves on top of you, lanky body pressing against your behind, practically caging you. So close that it's hard to thrash around. And even if you could, you'd only be pushing up against him more.

You gasp when he puts his skinny fingers between your thighs, spreading you apart with a swift motion. Sebastian doesn't waste any time in pushing his fingers inside of you, hunched over as he continues to whisper to himself.

The pounding of your heart is loud in your own ears, you're sure he can hear how it patters against the couch more when he decides to curl his fingers. You whine, almost unintentionally arching at how good it shouldn't feel. But it does, and he knows because he lets out a laugh, “You like this?” It sounds both mocking and genuine.

The leather muffles you, but you manage to moan out a “No–” to which Sebastian seethes at. He leans into your ear, fingers still pumping into your heat. “Don’t lie. You– you wouldn't be this wet if you didn't.” 

You’re unsure if Sebastian is trying to convince himself or you. The slight waver in his voice pairs with the hastiness of his fingers, itching to draw out more moans from your mouth. It’s impossible to ignore the several digits Sebastian pumps into you, him noticing how your thighs begin to quake and muscles tighten around his fingers. As quickly you're brought to the edge, Sebastian retracts. You whine at the now empty sensation, practically huffing like a brat. You don't even realize. Now his hand grips at your side of your hips, your own wetness uncomfortable on your skin. 

“Maybe you’ll like this more.” Sebastian whispers, prodding at your entrance with this length. It’s hard to speak with how he continues to push your head down into the cushion, though any denial would fall on deaf ears even if you could. He slips in too easily, practically bottoming out the second your tightness wraps around him.

Sebastian is all too loud, words and moans mixing into pure nonsense. You wonder why nobody has heard anything yet. The door isn’t even locked. He doesn't care at all it seems, too engrossed in the feeling inside you to even consider the consequences of being caught. 

Sebastian’s hand on the back of your head releases, and you think maybe he’ll let you turn. Maybe you’ll actually be able to scream properly for Luther with air properly filling your lungs and mouth not pressed against leather. He isn’t slowing down at all though, his hips snapping roughly against your ass. A hand snakes around the back of your throat and squeezes, your heart dropping at the growing pressure on your windpipes. 

Sebastian's grip on your throat tightens, the need to claim something, anything, overtaking him. He's spent. He's so close, and he's not about to stop now. He's on the brink, and the feeling of you tightening around him, the way you're almost helpless under him, only serves to push him further.

You can't breathe, your eyes widening frantically, and the only thing you can manage to do is grip the couch. The lack of air is making your vision blur as Sebastian continues to thrust into you, not seeming to notice or care. Your mind begins to swim, the dim room now spinning in your vision.

It's a terrifyingly intense sensation, being so close to the edge yet being choked, the mix of pleasure and pain leaving you feeling dizzy. Your body betrays you, arching and pulsating at the rapid thrusts. Croaking out whatever air left in your lungs, you come with a shudder, your muscles gripping Sebastian’s cock as he continues to pound into you.

Sebastian follows with a guttural moan, thrusts becoming more erratic as he reaches his own climax, shooting into you. The hand around your throat tightens momentarily, before finally releasing, sending you gasping for air. He practically collapses on top of you, his own breath heavy. 

He still holds you against the couch, though you wouldn't have the strength to move him to begin with. You feel the shuffle of him getting off on top of you, finally pulling out with a small groan and letting you at least get onto your side. He now lays beside you, body wrapped over yours. The couch barely fits you both, all you can feel is the heat of both your bodies and the sensation of wetness dripping between your thighs. 

Sebastian nuzzles against you like a baby. He looks exhausted, eyes shut and brows furrowed. You look to find any empathy—any guilt. It isn't there. If anything, he looks content. As if you both will stay like this forever. 

“You're right.” He murmurs, a soft rasp in his voice you aren't used to. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

[compaculaaa]

Hey again ! Not sure if you remember me but I'm the guy who said I was going to write a fic and upload it on Ao3. I've been brainstorming for awhile and finally got a few days off from work. 🎉 !! Just small updates here and there. You might see me popping up.

I genuinely keep forgetting that Sentinel doesn't love Alpha at all, I'm stuck with the idea of Sentinel being complex with his own feelings and can't exactly understand it. I've been basing my ideas on the asks that you've answered here in your blog, hoping that they'll make sense once written. Yet I'm still not sure !! I'm gonna have to skim through everything, every detail is well appreciated and I hope to use them.

Apologies for the rant !! This is what it's like to be a writer. AHHH brainstorming yet I don't have a single conclusion yet, one thing that I'll tell you is that the fic will be set after Sentinel took them in. Have a good day !!!!

— (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) Mama Trion and his sparklings, wait for me..

Heyhey!!! Wooooo free time is always good time^^ im so excited to see what you’re cooking up! If you’re having trouble with the details you’re more than welcome to dm me btw I’ll gladly tell you everything you’d like to know wwww

[otomiyaa]

Terms & Conditions

Alhaitham x Kaveh

A/N: First fic I'm uploading on the new blog (yolo) and gift for @xsezzie sama pos because, well. Because. The pose in this fic was inspired by this art by @ppystkposts :)

Summary: Alhaitham proposes to discuss the new terms and conditions for living together with Kaveh. (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 1.8K

Letters, a lot of them. Kaveh squinted his eyes and looked up at Alhaitham who had just presented him with a document that would take years of his life, just to read.

"What's this?" he asked. Alhaitham tapped the document as if Kaveh was an idiot.

"A new agreement. I figured, it's been a little over a year since you moved in with me. We can extend the contract, if you like."

Kaveh glared at him, then scanned the huge agreement. It was a long piece of paper with so many letters. What was Alhaitham plotting all of a sudden?

"....Have there been any problems?" Kaveh wondered.

Alhaitham shook his head. "So far, no. But there might be. Sign this and we'll give it another go for the next year."

Kaveh read the beginning of the contract and hummed. How cold. It was a fact that his relationship with Alhaitham had kind of moved on to the more... intimate kind. They kissed, they shared a bed, wasn't that the definition of dating? But yeah, it was also a fact that Kaveh was living here, in Alhaitham's house. It wasn't like they were married or something...

Still, to be treated like a mere tenant, it kind of stung. Was it maybe related to the fact that he lowered Kaveh's rent earlier due to Kaveh really struggling financially? Wasn't it an act out of empathy from Alhaitham, and he had stopped trusting him ever since now that he lived here for a cheap price?

Kaveh sighed, skipped all of the nonsense which was obviously just Alhaitham being boring about guarantees for losing his key, rent payment, Kaveh's list of domestic duties, standard rules about not damaging his belongings and such, so he took the pen Alhaitham handed to him and signed.

"There. Happy? I signed," Kaveh said, and he crossed his arms. Alhaitham nodded.

"Thank you. Well then, that settles it. This agreement is effective starting today. Now as for point 7.2," Alhaitham said, and Kaveh frowned.

"I would like to make use of it immediately. So please," he gestured to the couch. "Come with me."

Kaveh quickly jumped in front of him and stopped him with a hand on Alhaitham's chest.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. Alhaitham grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"The thing you agreed to. The condition for living with me. We are doing it now."

Huh! Kaveh struggled when Alhaitham dragged him towards the couch and managed to pull himself free.

"What do you even meanー" He rushed back to the table and checked the contract again. There were a total of 12 segments, so 7.2 was obviously overlooked like most things he only scanned briefly. It was hidden under the category 'domestic duties' and...

Kaveh's eyes widened and he blushed.

"...Will subject to complimentary tickle session for once a w-w-week? What the...?" Kaveh said in a pitchy voice. His mouth opened wide at the realization that this must be because...

Last night... He blushed even more at the memory.

He kind of tickled Alhaitham brutally, teasing him about his sensitivity and laughter. And then managed to fight him off effectively when Alhaitham tried to return the favor, with Kaveh childishly threatening him to spread the word all around Sumeru about their most ticklish scholar, if he wouldn't let him go. Sumeru already knew how ticklish Kaveh was, so there was no way to return the threat for Alhaitham and he let it rest. Only to retaliate with a comeback like this?!

"I can't believe you included a rule like that. You tricked me. I didn't agree to that."

"Yet you did. You signed your name, I saw it with my own eyes. It's not my fault you didn't read all the terms and conditions. So," Alhaitham sat on the couch and patted his lap.

"Come here. I'll be gentle."

Kaveh took a step back and shuddered. "No way man! You can't make me."

"Well, I won't force you. But I will, how should I put it. I would be very disappointed if you break our contract right after signing it." To make things worse, Alhaitham gave him the worst puppy look he had ever seen on his usually expressionless face.

Kaveh gasped. Alhaitham was such a trickster! And still...! He clenched his fist and stomped towards him.

"Fine. But seriously, once a week?" he asked, moving over to where Alhaitham was sitting.

"Could have been once a day, but I thought that would overdo it. Besides, it's my fingers that will do all the work."

"Or once a month, once a year, or never at all," Kaveh grumbled, shyly sitting on Alhaitham's lap and deciding to ignore that comment about Alhaitham's damn fingers doing 'all the work'.

"Like this?" he asked, leaning back.

"More like this..." Alhaitham said, and before Kaveh could protest, he had flexibly positioned Kaveh's arms under his legs, pinning them down with ease.

"Will keep you from moving around," Alhaitham explained. Well duh, Mr. Obvious. Kaveh squirmed nervously and looked up at him, now suddenly realizing what he had gotten himself into. Willingly...

"H-h-how long?" he asked, gazing at Alhaitham's fingers that were flexing above his tummy. To make things worse, Alhaitham even took his shirt and moved it up, revealing his bare skin.

"Hmm, for as long as you can go," Alhaitham said, wiggling his fingers above Kaveh's bare stomach and making him twitch already.

"A-and who decides that?" Kaveh asked. Alhaitham then smirked.

"I do."

As soon as his fingers made contact with his ticklish tummy, Kaveh instantly made a noise.

"HYAhh! Ahahalhaitham hohohold on!"

"No, we're starting."

"Buhhuhut - ahahaha!" Kaveh wasn't even sure what he was trying to say. After accidentally signing an agreement that included this exact tickle treatment, and then voluntarily letting Alhaitham do his thing, you'd expect he knew what he was getting himself into. But only now that he was really feeling the tickling, it started to sink in, and oh shit he had never been in such a helpless and vulnerable position before.

"I quite like this position," Alhaitham said, pressing Kaveh's arms even tighter against the couch while his fingers danced mercilessly all over his bare stomach, scribbling around and over his belly button and pinching and squeezing his sides every now and then.

"Nohoho! You ahahare the wohohorst!" Kaveh roared.

"I know," Alhaitham agreed. Kaveh thought it was going to be just tummy tickles, again he was such a naive little fool. As soon as Alhaitham's fingers moved further up, pushing his shirt further up and climbing up his ticklish ribs, he jumped and let out a loud hysterical shriek.

"NAHAh nonono not thehehere!" he protested.

"Where?" Alhaitham dug in carefully between his lower ribs and slowly wiggled them upwards where he stayed at his upper ribs, his fingers doing devil's work there. Kaveh was losing his mind.

"PLEhehe-plehehease! Hehehehe! Tihihime out!"

"Already?" Alhaitham asked.

"Soohoon plehehease whahaha!" Kaveh laughed breathlessly. How embarrassing. So humiliating that he couldn't take more than that. But this position in which he really couldn't move, it was like no other tickle attack he had ever experienced. Alhaitham sighed and finally stopped, resting his hands against Kaveh's heaving chest.

"I will let you catch your breath," Alhaitham said, and his eyes shifted for a little. Kaveh's eyes widened, he knew where he was looking.

"N-n-not my ahaharmpits," he laughed nervously.

"I'm sure you can take just a little bit of that. I've been quite gentle so far," Alhaitham said. Gentle! W-well that was true, actually. He hadn't been as rough, as ahem, other times. But yeah, those were entirely different. It was funny they would sometimes roughhouse and have some crazy silly tickle fights, but this 'tickle session' just couldn't compare to it all.

"Ready?" Alhaitham asked.

"No," Kaveh replied cockily, and he stuck out his tongue. So naturally, Alhaitham's fingers reached his armpits and started to tickle. Kaveh threw his head back and howled.

"Daaaahahaahaamn ahahahah!" Alhaitham was relentless. He tickled both armpits for as long Kaveh could endure, but when one hand moved back and picked up the tummy tickle torture, things weren't much better for Kaveh who could hardly breathe through his hysterical laughing fit. His legs kicked helplessly and he shook his head from side to side.

"AHahahalhaithahaham! Nahahah- ahahaha plehehease!"

Alhaitham smirked at him, looking so unbelievably satisfied with himself and his result from his stupid prank.

"AHahaha-ALHAITHAHAM!" Kaveh shrieked.

"Yes?" He finally got a reply.

"AHAhaha! No mohohore! Waahaahha!" Kaveh had no idea how long it had been. But at last, Alhaitham seemed to decide that Kaveh had reached his limit.

Kaveh's arms were released, but he was too tired to move away and just tiredly rested in Alhaitham's lap, breathing heavily and gasping for air.

"That - was - insane," he panted, but he couldn't stop smiling. His voice also sounded like it had changed pitch permanently. Geez. It felt like an entire workout.

For a moment they stayed in silence, and nothing could be heard except Kaveh's loud breaths.

Surprisingly, Alhaitham was the first to speak then. "You didn't read the rest, did you?"

"What rest?" Kaveh asked, annoyed again about that lame agreement trick. He was never going to sign anything ever again without reading every single letter.

"Well," Alhaitham said, and he paused.

"...At 7.2.1. for example, it says that I am only allowed to tickle you that one time a week. So, you'll probably like that. Unless you give me permission to do it more often, of course," Alhaitham explained, caressing Kaveh's hair.

Huh? Alhaitham was so talkative now, Kaveh had to let those words sink in. Hmm, so he could only tickle Kaveh that one time a week, unless Kaveh literally gave him permission to tickle him more?

Even after enduring all this, the sudden thought of limiting Alhaitham's tickle attacks to just once a week... All of a sudden it didn't sound like a lot, he thought as he remembered some of the times when Alhaitham playfully retaliated during tickle fights, and those triumphant moments when Kaveh would win. Not to mention the playful and affectionate tickles when they were in bed... He blushed and mumbled something.

"What did you say?" Alhaitham asked.

"Of all the nonsense on that stinking contract, can you at least revoke that one particular rule? It sucks."

"...7.2.1? The one that forbids me from tickling you ever outside our once-a-week session?" Al-Bastard-Haitham asked.

"...Yes."

Kaveh could die from embarrassment, but luckily the only response from Alhaitham was: "Alright. I think I could do that."

Then in that exact same position, Kaveh fell asleep, resting comfortably on Alhaitham and trapping him on the couch.

Not that Alhaitham complained. He had his book nearby, as always, so he grabbed it and started to read, while his free hand fondly stroked Kaveh's hair. Now that felt actually really good.

Note: This fic was loosely inspired by the movie Wonka.

[domm1etae]

sent to tempt me - chapter ten

chapter ten: unlikely truce

chapter summary: After an unexpected confession, Yunho finds himself tangled in a web of conflicting emotions as Mingi reveals the reasons behind his cold and teasing behavior. As tension between them rises, Mingi proposes a surprising deal

pairing: yunho x mingi

genre: smut (not yet but there will be eventually), angst, fluff, romance, m/m, non!idol!ateez, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, drama, coming of age, collage, religion

rating: 18+ (for the whole series bc there will be smut eventually) | mdni

word count: 2.3k

warnings under

collage, roommates, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, bad boy mingi and religious church good boy yunho same-sex attraction, m/m, teasing, dark themes, homophobia, self discovery, pet names, strangers to lovers, religion and religious topics, aaaand more will be added soon hehehe

previous chapter | next chapter | AO3 | this fics masterlist

author's note: well yeeeah this already came out 2 days ago but i didn't have time to upload it here ooops

Yunho sat frozen, his brain short-circuiting as Mingi’s casual words replayed in his head. He doesn’t hate me? The idea was almost too foreign to process. Mingi’s tone had been so nonchalant, like this was a normal thing to say, but it hit Yunho like a brick to the chest. He couldn’t even form a proper response, his mouth opening and closing as his wide-eyed stare locked on his roommate.

Mingi tilted his head, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. “What’s with the face? Did I break you?”

Yunho blinked rapidly, snapping out of his daze. “N-No! It’s just...” He trailed off, his voice catching. “I don’t understand. Why would you even say that?”

“Say what?” Mingi asked, leaning back against the couch like he hadn’t just turned Yunho’s world upside down.

Yunho hesitated, his gaze flickering uncertainly to Mingi’s face. “You don’t hate me?” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant, as if saying it too loudly might shatter the fragile reality he was trying to grasp.

Mingi sighed, running a hand through his hair before resting his arm along the back of the couch. “Yeah. I mean, earlier, when you knocked on my door, you said, ‘I know you probably hate me.’ And... I get why you’d think that, with how I’ve been acting, but—” he glanced at Yunho with a small smile that was oddly genuine, “I don’t hate you, man. Don’t worry about it.”

Yunho stared at him, his thoughts spiraling. He doesn’t hate me. He doesn’t hate me? It didn’t make sense. Mingi was always teasing him, pushing his buttons, being... well, Mingi. How could he possibly not hate him?

“Why?” Yunho blurted out, the word escaping before he could think it through.

Mingi chuckled softly, the sound warm and easy in the quiet room. “Why what?”

“Why don’t you hate me?” Yunho asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He felt ridiculous even asking, but he needed to know.

Mingi shrugged, as if the answer was so simple it didn’t even need much thought. “Why would I? You’re, like, the perfect roommate. You’re neat, you’re helping me patch up my wounds right now—even though you didn’t have to. Hell, you didn’t even say a word when my one-night stand was moaning loud enough for the whole building to hear.”

The room suddenly felt ten degrees hotter. Yunho’s face turned a deep shade of crimson, his hands twitching where they rested in his lap. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Mingi, his eyes instead locking onto the first-aid kit like it held all the answers to his current predicament.

Mingi’s smirk widened as he leaned forward slightly, clearly enjoying Yunho’s discomfort. “See? Perfect roommate. I don’t know anyone else who wouldn’t complain about that.”

“I-I just didn’t want to make it awkward,” Yunho mumbled, his voice barely audible as his gaze stayed fixed on the bandages. As if it wasn’t already awkward enough, he thought bitterly.

“Aw, you’re adorable when you’re flustered, you know that?” Mingi teased, his tone light and playful as always.

Yunho’s heart stuttered, his blush spreading to the tips of his ears. He felt like his entire body was betraying him, reacting to Mingi’s words in ways he couldn’t control. His chest tightened, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of everything. Mingi didn’t hate him. Mingi thought he was a good roommate—perfect, even. And now, Mingi was sitting there, looking at him like he was amused by Yunho’s embarrassment.

But amidst the storm of thoughts in Yunho’s head, one question burned brighter than the rest, cutting through his flustered haze. “But... if you don’t hate me, then...” He hesitated, glancing up at Mingi, who was watching him curiously. “Why do you always tease me? And why were you so mean all the time?”

Mingi froze at that, his smirk fading slightly as his eyes flickered with something Yunho couldn’t quite place.

Mingi didn’t answer Yunho’s question right away. Instead, he leaned back on the couch, his arms crossed over his chest. His face was unreadable, the playful smirk from earlier long gone. Yunho fidgeted in the silence, his mind racing with what felt like a million possibilities.

Finally, Mingi sighed, his voice flat. “Look, Yunho. It’s not that I think you’re a bad roommate or anything. Actually, you’re a good one. Great, even. But... my friends? They don’t exactly agree.”

Yunho’s breath hitched, confusion prickling at the back of his mind. “Your friends? What do they have to do with this?”

Mingi gave a dry laugh, shaking his head. “You really don’t see it, do you?” He looked at Yunho, his gaze sharp. “When they see you, they don’t think, ‘Oh, Yunho, the nice guy who’s neat and helpful. Let's hang out with him, read books and study well. Yay!’ They think, ‘What the hell is someone like me doing with someone like you?’”

The words struck Yunho like a slap, a pang of recognition hitting him as his memory flickered back to earlier in the semester. He remembered walking into the literature class that day, how Mingi’s group of friends had burst into laughter the second they saw the pairing list. The way one of them had nudged Mingi with a grin and said, “Seriously, you’re stuck with him? Good luck, dude.”

At the time, Yunho had tried to brush it off as some inside joke he didn’t understand. But now, the pieces started to click. They weren’t laughing at Mingi—they were laughing at him.

He swallowed hard, his heart sinking. So that’s what they think of me, he thought bitterly. Some loser who’s so far beneath Mingi that it’s actually funny.

Mingi’s voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. “If I’d been all friendly with you from the start, they wouldn’t have let it go. You don't even know what went down when i defended you while they were over playing games here with me. They’d have been all over you—messing with you, talking behind your back, making you miserable. You’d never have wanted to come back to this dorm or school, trust me.”

Yunho’s hands clenched in his lap, his knuckles whitening. “So... you were mean to me because you didn’t want your friends to notice us getting along?”

Mingi shrugged, his expression indifferent. “Pretty much. It’s not like I had a choice. They’re not the type to let things slide. I figured keeping my distance—and, yeah, being a little rough—was the easiest way to keep you out of their crosshairs.”

Yunho stared at him, his chest tightening. He wasn’t sure what hurt more: the idea that Mingi had been mean to him on purpose, or the fact that it had all been to avoid the judgment of his so-called friends.

“You’re saying you did it for my own good?” Yunho’s voice cracked slightly, a mix of confusion and sadness spilling out.

Mingi nodded, his tone matter-of-fact. “Yeah. You wouldn’t have lasted a week if they’d treated you like...well something you don't want to know.” He gave a humorless chuckle. “And trust me, they’d have made sure you knew it.”

Yunho’s gaze dropped to his lap, his thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. A part of him wanted to be angry—angry that Mingi had made him feel so small for weeks, angry that his so-called “protection” had come in the form of relentless teasing and coldness. But another part of him couldn’t help but feel... pathetic.

They really think I’m a joke, huh? he thought, a bitter taste rising in his throat. Even Mingi couldn’t see a way to protect me without treating me like I couldn’t handle it.

His voice was soft when he finally spoke. “I guess... I guess I should say thank you. For telling me, I mean.”

Mingi shrugged again, his demeanor unbothered. “Don’t mention it. Like I said, it’s not personal.”

But to Yunho, it was personal. How could it not be, when the words lingered in his chest, heavy and suffocating?

Yunho cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. “Okay, we’ve only got the cut on your lip left, so... you’ll be out of here in a sec.”

Mingi nodded, leaning back casually, but there was something unreadable in his expression. “Alright,” he said simply.

Yunho scooted closer, his fingers trembling slightly as he picked up the antiseptic-soaked cotton pad. He focused all his attention on Mingi’s bottom lip, trying his best to ignore how close they were. The cut wasn’t deep, but it had bled enough earlier to look worse than it was.

Carefully, Yunho dabbed at the wound, biting his own lip in concentration. His other hand hovered near Mingi’s chin for support, but he hesitated to actually touch him.

What Yunho didn’t notice, however, was the way Mingi’s gaze lingered on him. Mingi wasn’t looking at the first-aid kit, or the cotton pad, or even the cut on his lip. He was looking directly at Yunho—at the way Yunho’s brows furrowed in focus, at the way his lips parted slightly as he worked, and at the faint blush creeping up Yunho’s neck.

It wasn’t until Yunho finally glanced up, their eyes meeting, that the weight of Mingi’s stare hit him like a freight train. Yunho froze, his breath catching in his throat.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The air felt heavier somehow, the silence stretching between them. Yunho felt his cheeks grow hot, the realization that he’d been so close to Mingi without even realizing it making his heart pound against his ribs.

But he didn’t look away.

Mingi’s eyes flickered down—to Yunho’s lips—and lingered there for what felt like an eternity. Then, with a low chuckle, he said, “Really, don’t take it personally. I mean it when I say I like having you around.”

Yunho’s chest tightened, his mind spinning as he tried to process the words. But before he could respond, Mingi leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

“And you’re actually pretty cute,” Mingi added, his lips quirking into a lazy smile. “I like your kind.”

The words hit Yunho like a lightning bolt. His entire body tensed, his heart racing so fast he thought it might burst. What does he mean by that? Yunho thought, panicking as his face flushed an even deeper shade of red.

He bolted upright so fast he nearly dropped the first-aid kit. “O-Okay, all done!” Yunho blurted, his voice pitched higher than he intended.

Mingi’s smirk widened as he leaned back, completely unbothered by Yunho’s sudden flustered state. “Will I need to undergo some more of Doctor Yunho’s check-ups tomorrow?” he teased, the glint in his eyes unmistakable.

Yunho stammered, struggling to find his words. “Y-Yeah, I-I guess I can t-take a look at it,” he stuttered, clutching the first-aid kit like it was a lifeline. He turned toward the door, desperate to escape the unbearable tension in the room.

But before he could take another step, Mingi’s voice stopped him. “Hey, Yunho.”

Yunho turned slowly, his pulse still racing. “Y-Yeah?”

Mingi’s gaze was steady, his smirk still lingering. “Let’s make a deal.”

Yunho stood frozen near the door, his pulse still pounding from the tension of moments ago. He clutched the first-aid kit tightly, unsure whether Mingi’s “deal” would be something he could handle.

Mingi noticed Yunho’s hesitation and let out a soft chuckle, his expression relaxing slightly. “Don’t worry,” he said, his tone casual but firm. “It won’t be anything bad.”

Yunho blinked, his nerves still on edge. “What... what kind of deal?” he asked cautiously.

“For the sake of our project and our dorm room,” Mingi began, sitting up straighter and meeting Yunho’s gaze, “let’s be friends.”

Yunho’s brows shot up in disbelief. “What?” he blurted, his voice almost cracking.

Mingi shrugged as if the suggestion were the most obvious thing in the world. “You know, let’s be nice to each other. Get to know each other a little. Our work on the project will go a lot smoother if we’re not constantly at each other’s throats.”

Yunho frowned, the offer catching him completely off guard. “You... want us to be friends?”

“Sort of,” Mingi said, leaning back against the couch with a faint smirk. “But not like... best friends or anything. Let’s keep it casual—just here, in the dorm. No need to act all buddy-buddy when we’re out in public. That would not really work you know. But I will try being less mean to you in public.”

Yunho’s stomach churned at the thought, remembering how Mingi’s friends had laughed about them being project partners. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of embarrassment, but Mingi’s words made a strange kind of sense.

“So... just in the dorm?” Yunho asked hesitantly, his voice softer now.

Mingi nodded, his expression unreadable but less cold than before. “Yeah. Think of it like... a truce. We’ll be nice to each other here, work on the project, and maybe even get along a little.” He tilted his head, his smirk returning. “What do you think?”

Yunho hesitated, his heart still racing from everything that had just happened. Friends? Or something close to it? The idea felt strange—almost surreal—but a part of him wanted to believe that maybe things could get better between them.

After a long pause, Yunho nodded. “O-Okay,” he said quietly. “I guess we can... try that.”

Mingi’s smirk widened slightly, and he leaned back with an air of satisfaction. “Good. This’ll make things a lot easier. And hey,” he added with a faint glint in his eyes, “you might even like me if you give it a chance.”

Yunho didn’t know how to respond to that, so he quickly turned toward the door. “I-I should, uh, put this away,” he mumbled, lifting the first-aid kit slightly.

He hurried off to his room before Mingi could say anything else, his face flushed and his thoughts a whirlwind. What just happened? Did Mingi really mean it? Yunho wasn’t sure, but one thing was certain: this truce—or whatever it was—would definitely take some getting used to.

[mikeyisbrooklyn]

Huh, this is gonna be my first chapter of Why We Can’t Have Nice Things that I didn’t already post on Tumblr before I started uploading onto AO3.

Well that just won’t do… hmm it won’t be as organized as the other three but I may as well spoil the Tumblr peeps before I officially post it.

(Warning: this is the final rough draft before the actual final draft that gets posted on AO3 in a few hours.)

Why We Can’t Have Nice Things (4)

Price regretted vocalizing how much he missed paperwork. He knew he would be behind upon his return, but as he limped into his office, he had two stacks of papers so high it swayed in response to any nearby movement. And this was apparently the leftovers after Simon tried to keep it from building up in his absence.

“Glad to ‘ave you back.” Simon grunted, as he held Price’s office door open for him. The warmth in Simon’s voice would be imperceptible to anyone else, but Price caught it. “Don’t croak anytime soon, I don’t want to even think about all this red tape you work with again, let alone handle it.”

“Not so easy being Captain, is it?” Price joked back as he went to sit in his chair slowly.

“That’s why they pay you the big bucks.”

Price let out a single rueful chuckle, knowing how untrue that was—at least, compared with all the shit he had to clean up. Speaking of, he had work to do…

He managed to be both the last to arrive and the first to exit the small party celebrating his return from leave. No one, except McTavish, was thick enough to try to keep him longer—but even the Scot let him slide away after seeing the look of pure exhaustion in Price’s eyes. He didn’t even get half of what he wanted to get done and Price knew that with each day back the more would pile on. That was the nature of the job, even if he couldn’t hit the field, the fight never ends. Price half-heartedly shambled to his room for the first time since getting back to base—not even having entered the room upon arriving with Gaz offering to take his things there for him—and laid down in his bed without even disrobing in a paltry attempt to sleep.

Though being fully clothed didn’t help, the real ailment that kept his eyes was the nagging voice in the back of his head. The one telling him how far behind he already was and would continue to be if he didn’t shape up. It didn’t matter that it was only his first day back, it didn’t matter that if it were any of the 141 or anyone else he would call them mad for thinking they could fill a two month gap in a day, it didn’t matter that he was specifically put on desk duty to not exert himself. All Price could hear in his head was how everyone’s tone with him since his injury had skated on caution, and all he could see were the carefully formed faces of professional soldiers that he could still clock as worried when they didn’t think he was looking.

*Liability*

Price shot up in bed so fast he thought he might get nauseous. Again. That’s been happening too much. He shook his head and ignored the brief pain of getting up on his leg too fast. Price knew he ought to get some rest, but he also hated being behind more than he hated being tired; despite his better judgment, Price slunk back to his office as the dusk turned to twilight.

The rising sun tried and failed to shine a light into Price’s office, as it was blocked from window entry by his drawn curtains. Price sprung up from his desk with a shout at the knock from his door; and if the top sheet from a stack of paperwork was stuck to his face as he did, then that was between him and his maker.

“John?” Nik’s smooth baritone seeped through the door and its vivacity made its way into Price’s very being even with the distance. Or, it tried to anyway, as when the warmth started coursing through him, it was as quickly flushed out by…guilt? Embarrassment? “Mishka, I know you’re in there. Are you alright?”

Damn it all to Hell, there was that cursed worry in Nik’s voice. Price hadn’t even done anything. Had he? He mumbled a half-hearted affirmation that he was coming.

The moment the door was open wide enough, Nik’s arms were around Price. Price stiffened and quickly forced himself to relax, but Nik noticed all the same.

“Mishka?” Deep brown eyes analyzed him, and then, “you did not sleep last night.”

It wasn’t a question. He just knew, Nik always knew when Price wasn’t taking good care of himself. And he was always there to rectify that. When the captain skipped a meal in favor of picking apart intel, Nik conveniently brought servings for two when he came around. Many a night would Price be found with a blanket and neck pillow whilst he slept on his desk if not for the Russian guard dog waiting patiently nearby. The crick in Price’s neck right this instant tells him he would’ve appreciated that act more than ever last night, but Nik was on a mission. In fact…

“Nik. What happened to Amsterdam?” Price deflected. There was no point in lying to Nik, but that didn’t mean Price had to acknowledge his dissecting gaze.

“Nothing. This is simply pit stop.” Nik retorted. “I wanted to see you. I’ve done this many times.” There was a tension in his voice. Not quite arguing, but very much so challenging Price to misstep. Price knew that, yet again, Nik was right. The pilot had made it a habit to visit the base mid-mission and Price never complained about the company. He wasn’t now either, but even he caught the edge in his own voice; as if he was trying to rush Nik off or…or didn’t want Nik there.

Fuck. That’s—that’s not true. Right?

“John?”

Fuck. Price was spiraling again. “Ah, yea, ‘m sorry.” He grabbed the back of his neck and futilely started on the crick in his neck. He stood still for a second—two, three—too long before moving aside. “Come in.”

Nik hesitated and eyed him. Then he eased his stance, something that almost looked casual—if Price couldn’t see just how clinical and forced it was. “Hm, I was hoping to share breakfast, while I have time away from mission. Off the base, of course. I’m sure you have not fed yourself, da?”

Price frowned and crossed his arms. So was this what they were doing? Relaxed stance or not, Price knew this was a standoff—not even mentioning the subtle dig at his ability to take care of himself. He’d had dinner, and a quick glance to the clock showed that it was hardly past 0800, so it wasn’t absurd that he hadn’t had breakfast yet. He wasn’t a lia—*urk*, he fought what felt like rising bile at the bottom of his throat and internally shook it off. The point was, he could feed his damn self. But if he said as much, it’d definitely come across as petulant whining. No, no he would not play into Nik’s hand so easily. Instead,

“Nah, ‘aven’t but it’s cause I was gonna eat with the boys. Planned to make an appearance at the caf, ya know, keep morale up.” He lied through his teeth. Price would stay in his office for days on end if no one came to grab his arse. And Nik knew that too, showing as much with his singular raised eyebrow.

“Oh? Then I can join you.”

“Sure you wanna spend however little time ya got eating the slop they call food ‘ere?”

“You forget who you speak to, rodnoy. I have lived off of nothing but the grubs from the earth, I handle ‘slop’ just fine.” With that, Nik looped his arm around Price’s waist and suddenly and swiftly pulled the man out of the office doorway and against Nik’s side.

Though a small part of Price enjoyed being manhandled just a little, he could tell it was also a way to end the conversation. He was familiar with Nik’s tricks after so long—the way the Russian would use his strength and suavity to poke at each of Price’s weak points with the precision of a sniper. Normally, Price took the usage of those tricks as a sign he needed to relax—trusting Nik’s judgment above all else, but right this instant something ugly flared inside him and caused him to pull away from Nik. The moment he did it felt like something not only in his core but something in the center of the earth ***broke***. As if the very balance of the universe was thrown off. It crushed more than that damned rubble.

In response, Nik froze and several dozen emotions ran across his features. A twitch downward from where his lips meet his right cheek, a scrunching of the space between his eyebrows, and his eyes—God, it was *always* his eyes wasn’t it—taking on a fire deep in their brown like embers in a forest moments from going ablaze. “Wh—“

Price forcefully aborts whatever Nik is about to say by grabbing his hand and moving back into the pilot’s space—though not as close as before. “Sorry, sorry, still waking up. Los’ my balance.” It was some of his worst work to date, but it felt impossible to lie to Nik. It’s why he couldn’t meet his eyes when the fib left his mouth, instead busying himself with closing his office door behind him. “Lessgo.” He grunted, pulling Nik along the hallway without another word. Thankfully, Nik didn’t give him a taste of his medicine and pull back; the holes being drilled in the back of Price’s head could be ignored for now.

To Nik’s credit, his eyes never left Price, even through the attempted conversation—if you could count Nik not-so-subtly probing Price for what was wrong under the guise of causal interest and Price’s increasingly brusque, noncommittal grunts in response as *conversation*. Those eyes were so sharp and scrutinizing that Price was starting to feel like he was about to get sick, ruining his appetite, but something else—something that felt just like that flare from moments ago—started festering, too. Was it indignation? Enmity? Rancor? No, no it couldn’t be, he’d never feel that way at or about Nik. He just wished those damn eyes would stop studying him. Stop waiting for him to—to what? Prove him right, was that it? Price wasn’t stupid, he knew Nik didn’t want him to be in such a hurry to get off leave. He knew Nik had all but begged Price to take it as an opportunity to take a “much needed break”. He remembered the arguments that ended in soft cuddling and quiet assurances, and it’s in his memory he recalls that this *feeling* at the pit of his stomach stuck with him even after the heated debates died. ‘Cause this wasn’t a fluke, this was a developing pattern. Price would try to maintain or regain some sense of normalcy and Nik would swoop in and take the reins. It was never malicious, more like a father keeping his son from touching a hot stove, but Price wasn’t a damn child. He wasn’t a damn liab—

Price thanked a god he didn’t pray to that a few sergeants came over to bother him as he felt bile slowly rising to the middle of his throat. In fact, he used them as an excuse to cut breakfast short, much to Nik’s chagrin.

“But you are not finished!” The Russian stood up as Price was already walking his tray to a nearby trash can.

“Sorry, the boys need me. I’ll make it up to you later. Good luck on the rest of yer mission.” And Price didn’t even give Nik a chance to respond as he left him standing there without so much as a look back, which caused him to miss the slightest quiver in Nik’s bottom lip.

The following weeks were more or less uneventful, at least, relatively. On desk duty, Price didn’t get to live out the eventful days, he only got to read about them in the paperwork he was about ready to go mental over. Every pile he managed to get done, another two would appear. Luckily, he was able to at least lead trainings and spars, even if he couldn’t participate.

There was also the constant, nagging, sick feeling at the pit of his stomach, getting worse with each time he blew Nik off. Truly, if whatever the hell this feeling was didn’t kill Price, the increasing guilt might. Nik certainly didn’t spend his every waking moment on base with the 141, typically only there for a safe and familiar place to do repairs or the occasional invite or visit, but it seemed like lately every chance the pilot had away from Chimera or any other dealings saw him present. And more importantly, looking to spend time with Price.

Surprise gym sessions. Nice romantic dinners. Invites out to private, scenic walks or long drives. Even a planned helo trip as a “spontaneous adventure that doubled as a relaxing holiday”. All of which Price found excuse after excuse to turn down or bail out of part way through. At first, he made an attempt to seem deeply conflicted but as time went on his excuses got limper and his defenses more meek.

The truth was, Price *was* conflicted just not in a way he could genuinely express. It was as if every waking moment Nik and those piercing eyes, analyzing his every step, made him anxious and frayed his nerves. And John Price doesn’t ***do*** anxious. Watching Nik watch him like a hawk was worse than being pinned down with heavy fire and nothing but your bare hands—at least then Price knows no matter he does he’s got to fight his way out or die trying. But this? Nik threw Price off his rhythm, he made Price a kind of vulnerable and open he had made extra sure to never be. And at the onset of the relationship—their *romantic* relationship, Price knew it meant opening up more and Nik was a patient man. More so than Price deserved, he knew that much. Slowly and surely, Nik was able to peel back the layers and break down the walls and Price was actually relieved to have something with someone where he didn’t feel this incessant need to *be* anything. Or to perform or have it all together. It was just him and Nik and it was simple and now…now it’s not.

Because Nik thinks Price fragile—knows he’s breakable, because Nik can tell Price is slowing down and getting himself hurt in stupid ways he should be better than. That’s why Price knows Nik is really always around now to keep a close eye on him, covering it with a saccharine veneer of romance and chivalry—not that Nik didn’t do those thoughtful things all the time but…but this is different. Price knows it is, it’s what the feeling in the pit of his stomach tells him. It’s what the bile slowly climbing to the top of his throat assures him. It’s not Nik’s fault, he’s just trying to protect Price’s dumbass from getting himself hurt again. Nik’s just trying to be the fixer he always has been, the fixer Price could always rely on, the fixer Price now needed. But Price knows that he’s the one thing Nik can’t fix, because he’s not a problem that’s solvable; Price is a liability, plain and simple.

And telling himself that over and over doesn’t make it any easier to get off his knees in front the toilet one night while the moon reaches its peak, nor does launching what little food he’s eaten recently into it ease the bile that’s burning his esophagus.

Price is pretending he didn’t spend far too many hours sobbing, clutched to a shitter like a teen who just reached the worst part of his first binge, the next morning while watching gaggles of rookies do laps when his luck—if one could call it that—runs out.

“Jonathan.” Normally, when the Russian man said his name, it was with mirth or some degree of panic considering the circumstances of their employment. But right now, Nik’s voice carried a gruffness only matched by Price himself, sounding all the more imposing thanks to his size.

Price turned to see Nik walking towards him with a determined glare and steady swagger. A spike of cold rushed down Price’s spine as he not-so-subtly looked for a way out. It was too late to pretend he hadn’t heard his approaching partner, he had already turned in his direction. He couldn’t conjure up some “incredibly important” captain’s business as he had just admitted to the now preoccupied rookies that he was free if needed; he had the feeling Nik heard that. And if he outright ran away, he wasn’t actually sure Nik wouldn’t just chase him down.

That final thought had heat pooling in his gut. Dammit, now isn’t the time for his dick to make his internal conflict worse.

In all of Price’s catastrophzing, Nik had gotten closer and closer, until finally being a breath away from him. Somehow, in this open field, he felt more trapped than when he was under that rubble.

“What is wrong?” Nik sounded like a man trying to keep the worry out of his voice, far too clinical to be believably neutral. “Are you hurt and do not want me to see? Is there something I have done? Something I have not?”

“Not sure what the hell you’re talking about.” Price, unfortunately, also did a terrible job at acting indifferent. There couldn’t be a clearer sign that they ought to simply speak plainly, but John Price never did simple when it came to matters of the heart.

“Jonathan.” Nik all but growled, more desperate than angry.

“Stop saying my name like you’re my bloody father.”

Nik frowned in confusion and exasperation. “Why will you not answer the question? I know something is wrong.”

Price dragged a hand down his face and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he turned towards the dying grass. “Nik, just drop it.”

“Nyet. You have been…” Nik seemed to weigh the words in his mouth before continuing, “off for weeks now, Jonathan. I have waited for you to tell me what ails you in your own time, but the more time goes by, the more… the more you pull away.”

Price did all he could not to freeze as if caught with his hand in a cookie jar. He would not admit how he failed at this. “Nik…Nik, I—no, I’m just still playing catch up. And even then, I’m always busy.” He hardly finished speaking before Nik cursed in Russian, something Price vaguely recognized as an exclamation of disbelief. Bullshit.

“Are you so busy, Captain,” Nik continued, something like venom at the back of his throat upon using Price’s title. “That you cannot spare a glance at meals, or even attend them—or anything I plan to do with you—at all? That you have not spoke more than a single sentence to me beyond niceties?”

Price knew he was wrong, hell, he knew in Nik’s shoes he might even have been twice as vindictive about it. But still, that feeling in the pit of his gut turned into some awful beast inside him—the bile reaching the top of his throat and coming out in form of words he didn’t mean. “Are you daft? Go ask any of my men, if it’s not training or op prep or bullshit paperwork, it’s damn near impossible to get a second in with me. Think you’re meant to be special?” Price regretted those cruel words as soon as they left his mouth. It only got worse when he watched Nik’s face shift; gone was the frustrated but desperate look of a man reaching out—throwing a Hail Mary, now what sat on the larger man’s face was pure detachment.

“Yes, that is what most men think when they share a bed. My apologies, Captain,” The words left Nik’s mouth colder than a tundra. “ I will leave you to your busy schedule.” With that, Nik turned and left. Catching up to him wouldn’t be hard. Screaming his name, or even an apology would be easier.

But Price instead stood there, speechless, hating himself more than he had ever before. He promised himself he would do better, that he wouldn’t *ruin Nik*. That’s what he was doing, right? So why…why did it feel like he couldn’t have gotten it more wrong?

[paperbackribs]

for the 'Eddie freaks out over How to Survive a Werewolf Attack' post and those who missed the upload on Ao3, this is the second part of the chapter from Steve's POV, with a little protective stobin to delight

🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇

Steve leaves the pulse of the woods behind him as he emerges from the trees that abut his backyard. He’d smelled Robin long before shifting back into his human form, the sharp mint of her shampoo mixing alongside the sweet earthiness that he now attributes to family. Never having had one, he nevertheless knows that the combination will always mean sister.

Circling the pool, its night lights cast an uncanny, rippling blue across the surface, he heads to where she sits under the warm yellow lights, propped on her elbows against the wrought-iron patio table. In her cupped hands rests a book with an overflowing tree protectively sheltering a dog and her pups, Woman and Nature carefully inscribed above them.

She stirs as he approaches, inserting a receipt between the pages to save her place and resting it beside her. Looking into her concerned eyes, Steve grimaces. “Well, that went well,” he says lightly, feeling the need to inject some humour into the memory or he may be tempted to dwell on the ache that wants to rise instead.

Robin’s face softens and he knows that she can feel his hurt even without him saying it. They’re so connected sometimes that he wonders if his wolf forged something with her when they’d sat there, bound and interrogated by Russians, only able to depend on each other. “He was a little freaked out from the unexpected is all and he just needs to get used to the idea before…”

She trails off and Steve finishes her sentence, “Before he can be in the same room as me? Robs, the guy practically had a panic attack on my mother’s Giorgetti rug. I could smell his fear: he was terrified that I was going to eat him or something.”

Robin’s lips firm as she drums her fingers over the book cover, “Yeah, well, that’s his problem. After you left, we gave him the rundown; that you’re just a normal wolf—”

Steve snorts: there’s nothing normal about his transformations at all, but Robin ignores him to continue, “—and hopefully if he’s affected by the bites then it’ll turn him into a normal bat too.”

“And how’d he take that?” Steve asks curiously.

“Oh, another meltdown,” Robin says blithely, “He’s now convinced that he’s going to turn into Bela Lugosi and will be prowling the night for his victims before we know it.” Steve laughs despite himself, already able to imagine Eddie making exaggerated gestures in the middle of the group.

“Did he hiss like a vampire?”

“Nah, but he did do that thing, you know with the cape?” She shields half her face with her forearm as if hiding menacingly behind it. Fond amusement fills Steve, as if often does when faced with Eddie’s dramatics only for it to quickly drain away at the reminder of how drastically he had taken Steve’s shift.

Robin notes his change of mood and scowls at an absent Eddie. “Scaredy-cat,” she mutters darkly, “Should have called him a scaredy-bat to his face.”

Steve chuckles and leans forward to gently tug on a lock of her blonde hair, “And then give him my nail bat…”

“So, he’d be a scaredy-bat with a nail bat that lost his bat-le shield.”

Steve waggles his hand in a so-so motion, “Could use some work.”

“Oh, screw you, buddy, I did all the work,” Robin’s eyes dance with humour even as she pokes him with a sharp finger at his ribs. Steve squirms away, “I gave you the nail bat!” He mock protests before the image of Eddie’s wide and terrified eyes crosses his mind again. He sighs, “Do you think I should avoid him for a while? Let him get used to the idea before springing myself on him again?”

Robin leans back with a too wide smile, its awkwardness immediately transparent. “What?” Steve asks suspiciously.

Her brow furrows in an apology that gives lie to the smile, “We’re meeting back here tomorrow. El thinks that she might be able to lead him through a change if he’s got it in him, and we all thought it better to get the potential of it all out of the way before Eddie devolves into one big puddle of fear.”

Rubbing the bridge of his forehead, Steve sighs, “So, not only is he freaked out by the sight of me but I’m going to see him in the next twenty-four hours.”

Robin looks at her bulky men’s watch with a grimace, “More like twelve. We figured that we should get it over sooner or later, and this way he can work out whether he wants to freak out over being a bat or a vampire.”

“Or neither,” Steve points out.

She shrugs, “It seems unlikely, right? Correlation doesn’t equal causation, and you may be the outlier, the one cool weirdo out there.”

“Thank you,” he says dryly even though he does appreciate her positive spin on his furry little situation.

It had been months after the events over Halloween, when he’d been bitten by a demo-dog, that he’d started to notice the first few small changes. At first, he’d been convinced that it was the world that had transformed: smells becoming deeper, sights becoming sharper, but after one night where he had been panicked to find that his feet were no longer so far away, and suspiciously clawed, that he’d come to the realisation that it was his senses that had evolved, not the sun or the trees or the perfume of his history teacher.

The kids, while excited, had been very little help, but their encouragement had made him feel less alone. He took Dustin’s attempt to turn him into a science experiment in stride and as an extension of the little butthead’s support. But it was when Robin had been brought into the Upside Down fold that he’d felt truly embraced.

Surprisingly, rather than turning to books and research, she’d listened to him instead. Asked Steve what he wanted to be called when he was turned and let him talk about the oddities and freedoms he’d found in this new version of himself.

Steve had already known that the wolf would be a part of him forever, but Robin’s role in his life had cemented that feeling into a bone-deep acceptance, an understanding that he wasn’t weird or wrong for his new transformation, but that it was simply another part of Steve. Or Furry Steve as Robin would gently tease him.

“Are you staying over?” He asks now, watching her smother a yawn and nod in agreement.

He stands, waiting until she walks through the door before flipping the light switch off, the flurry of moths above flutter in confusion at the sudden darkness. “We can practise some more on the way home tomorrow if you like.”

Robin had gained her license a month ago, but with no car to drive Steve was building her confidence by having her drive his. She often teased that their love was a true one since she’s the only one allowed to touch the bimmer.

Wrapping an arm around his waist, they walk through the kitchen and head to his bedroom in unspoken agreement. “That’d be great. Do you want to wolf-out or be on your side of the bed,” she counters sleepily, leaving her book on the counter as they pass.

He hums, thinking. Months ago, after they’d worked out that the Upside Down nightmares were better handled when they knew the other one was in the room, Robin had struggled with having Steve in her bed.

It’s not that he wasn’t welcome, she’d reassured him, or wanted, she’d said with a haunted expression, clearly thinking of having woken up silently screaming not moments before. But having his skin touch hers made her irritable in a way that she had no explanation for. Fur, however, was fine.

Since then, if Steve needed cuddles he was allowed to wolf-out, as they decided to call it. Once transformed, Robin had no problem with Steve’s fur covering her skin; rather, she quite liked the partial weight of his body.

He thinks that tonight he’d like the reassurance that there is one person who is not only unafraid of him but likes the differences that make him not-quite-human.

“Wolf-out,” he responds, letting go and allowing the wolf to unfold. The sweet musk of the kids sharpens, even with them having departed hours ago, as does the appealingly darker scent of Eddie, although it is bitterer than it normally is as if his fear had saturated the small space.

His tail drops sadly at the reminder, but Robin distracts him with scritches behind the ear before leading their way up the stairs to his bedroom. Steve pads behind, happy to have a friend in Robin and determinedly putting Eddie out of his mind for the rest of the night.

If you enjoyed any of this drop me a comment over at Ao3, it'd make my day! (fic now titled Swift Wings and a Brave Heart)

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty : like real people do (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 8.4k

summary : princess and din spend another day together, chasing a feeling of normalcy

warnings, etc. : language, angst, slight discussions of pregnancy, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral f!receiving, soooo much talking during sex, dom/sub vibes, a lot of sex

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

Mando and Din. 

All you can think about right now is how there must be two of them. 

You’re playing with his curls. His snores bounce off the walls of the closet and his head rests against your chest as you let your fingers comb through his hair.

Mando has always taken. (Not that you mind.) But Din liked to give. 

Is it selfish to want both?

If it is then you might just be a selfish person. How could you not? You’ve been presented with a man who has quite literally made a point to worship you, a man who is your heart. Your kar’ta.

Maybe you could tease him into man-handling you today. It probably wouldn’t be hard to do, not that you don’t love how gentle he was with you last night, it just made you hungry.

Hungry for more of him. 

And if you’re being selfish, you might as well admit to yourself that you want it all.   

You want it all.

No shame in thinking about it. 

You want to walk through the street holding his hand, you want to worship him the way he worships you, and you want to wake up like this. Skin against skin, tangled in the sheets.

You want to be his, and for him to be yours.

You want everything. 

You want people to know that he is yours.

Maybe someday you want kids.

None of these things are practical. You know that, but you can want them.

“He isn’t going to touch you. Ever again. I never should have let him in the first place.”

Din doesn’t want to share. Maybe he won’t. He’s clearly capable of things, maybe he really can protect you from your husband. 

It’s a nice dream.

Speaking of nice dreams, he stirs a little in his sleep, his hands slide across your spine, under you as his snores stutter for a moment before leveling back out.

His face is pressed against your chest and you can feel his breath on your flesh, occasionally his lips move against you as he mumbles to no one. You let your hands roam a little, to give you a vague outline of him. 

There’s a prominent scar on the back of his head, a thin line with a slight indent where his hair doesn’t grow. 

Letting your fingers gently graze down his neck you can feel the mess of curls there, all of varying lengths. Maybe someday he’d let you cut his hair for him. In all honesty though, that’s the one thing you don’t want from him. 

Or at least you don’t need it.

You care about him too much to want to see his face. Sure you’re curious but you’d never ask for such a thing. 

His back and shoulders have it the worst. You can feel the lines that stick out on his skin and indents from old wounds healed over. It’s still a little surprising how much bulk the armor adds. He’s remarkably broad but considerably more lithe than you ever would have thought. And he’s softer. You know what he’s capable of, obviously he’s a former bounty hunter, he’s toned but there’s something about him that’s soft.

His skin is soft, the way he holds you is gentle, like he’s being careful.

Would he allow you to see his body? 

You’ve seen parts already, his hands, and other things. But now that you can feel all of the scars he has you’d like to see them, and ask him how he got them. 

You wish you knew what time it was. How much time you have left like this, perfect and undisturbed. But there’s responsibilities. One of them being the fact that you have dinner with Kodo tonight. Almost as if he sensed your distress his snores stop and he presses a kiss against your breast. 

“Is it morning sarad?” His voice is thick with sleep.

“I think so.” You manage to mumble back. 

“What do you want to do today?” He yawns as he says it and lifts himself off of you briefly, when he lays back down you feel steel against your skin and his voice is modulated. 

“I thought we could go back into the city.” You let your hand settle between his shoulder blades. “I wanted to help out the woman I met yesterday. She was telling me about her daughter's store.”

“Mhmm.” 

“And then I have dinner with Kodo.” 

He doesn’t have a response to that but you note that his entire body tenses up. 

It makes you want to do something for him. 

To remind him that you care for him as much as he cares for you. And to make him forget that at the end of every week he has to escort you back to your husband.

“And after that I thought maybe we could go to your cabin if that’s alright.” 

He relaxes the tiniest bit. 

“That’s more than alright.” His hands start to move down, from your hips to your thighs. “What did you want to do once we got there?” 

“I have a little surprise for you.” You gasp out as he squeezes your thighs, sitting up on his knees to get a better angle. 

“What do you want to do before all that?”

Him.

Stay like this forever.

Ignore the knocking on your bedroom door.

Kriff.

The girls. 

You’re sitting up in an instant, scrambling around in the darkness, trying to find your discarded nightie. Thankfully he senses your panic as he flips the switch for the lamp, dimly illuminating the closet as you hear the girls start milling about the main room. 

You find the thin white fabric slipping it on quickly before stumbling to your feet. Din seems to be in a state of shock, sitting still in the silence so you grab the first dress you find. 

“Just- shit, just stay here, I’ll come get you when they’re gone.” Is all you whisper before you rush out, quickly shutting the closet door behind you, the girls staring at you in silence. 

“Good morning, my lady.” Elaine speaks first, her voice hesitant as she takes in your disheveled form. Thankfully they waste no time getting you into your routine, in the light of the main room you get a good look at yourself in the mirror as they change you into new undergarments. 

It’s not a great look. 

You know that. 

You aren’t wearing panties and your thighs are littered with bite marks. Both the girls gawk at you and there really is nothing to say so you don’t bother. There’s no possible excuse for this. They dress you in silence, at one point Elaine laughs but covers it with a cough. 

Other than that everything seems to be going smoothly until you see Lysa going towards the closet to fetch you some shoes and you nearly tumble out of your chair at the vanity as you turn around to stop her. 

“No!” Everyone freezes in place and you can feel your face getting hot as you stumble over your words. “Sorry, I just- I-I’ll get them. Thank you though, but I’ll get them.” There’s a long moment of silence before they both look to the closet and then back at you. 

“...Okay?” Elaine says it like she’s trying to calm you as you frantically look between the two of them. 

You really know how to make a bad situation worse. They finish dressing you quickly, the dress you grabbed is rather pretty. A dark red top contrasting a long champagne tulle skirt with stars all along the bottom. If you weren’t currently so flustered you’d probably admire it more. 

They work swiftly on your hair and makeup, leaving it as simple as possible before rushing out. Once they’re in the hall you can hear them whispering and laughing, you hear Lysa say something about how the Mandalorian is not at his post outside your door. 

Your face is getting hot all over again and it doesn’t help when the second they’re gone the closet door swings open and Din steps out, already back in all of his armor. 

It’s like you have a school yard crush on him as you stare at him, twisting your hands a bit in front of you. 

You had been tangled in each other's bodies not even an hour ago yet you’re flustered just staring at him.

Not wanting to make a fool of yourself by stumbling over your words you just turn on your heel and head out the door, with him following closely behind. 

“Leo!” You yell, the moment you close the door behind you, the Mandalorian standing firmly at your side as Leodall hurries towards you, bowing.

“Good morning, ma’am, how can I help you?”

You give him a polite smile.

“I’m going to be going into the city today, I’d like some credits please.” With that he rushes off and you stand in the hall, staring at Din with a smile.

“You’re going to run the royal family's funds dry at this rate.” He whispers, bumping his shoulder against yours. 

“What a shame that would be.” You mutter back as Leo makes his hasty return, handing you the coin purse which you hand off the Din, Leo rushing away in the opposite direction. 

★

You go through the usual routine of getting your trackers and you eagerly step out of the gates into the street. Din dismisses the speeder to your delight as you begin to walk through the street, it’s still rather early and it seems like most vendors are heading towards the market streets or opening their shops, you make an effort to smile and wave at as many people as possible. 

While you walk he matches your speed, staying next to you but not touching you, he leans down to whisper. 

“You look nice.” The rasp in his voice makes you tingly as you feel your face getting hot. He sounds like he’s still waking up.

“Thank you.” You whisper back, not bothering to lean towards him, knowing he’ll hear you. 

It’s the dumbest thing to get all hot and bothered about but outside of sex he doesn’t really compliment you like that, it feels… normal. Like something a normal couple would do. 

You make a beeline towards what you know to be the woman you met yesterday’s store. Din stays close behind you as you push open the shop door, a little bell jingles as you step into what appears to be a standard supermarket, you recognize the woman at the front counter to be Vivian’s daughter, giving her a smile you approach, asking where Vivian is and being taken towards the back, Din stays silent as he follows. 

In the back storage rooms you’re pleased to find the older woman at a table along with a small surprise waiting for you.

“You actually came back?” She’s got a shocked grin on her face as you sit next to her at the table where she appears to be putting labels on different fruits and vegetables. 

“Of course I did, I said I would.” You smile at her before smiling at the toddler in her lap, you recognize him from yesterday, one of the younger boys playing with your Mandalorian, the one who kept drooling on Din’s armor, you give him a small wave. “Hello, little one.” 

He waves back at you, currently drooling on an apple slice and what appears to be a permanent frown plastered on his face. 

You look at Din, holding out your hand for the coin purse, he places it in your palm before taking his place behind your chair, keeping his hands on the back of it. 

“Here, I brought this for you.” You set the bag onto the table in front of her and she seems a little taken aback. 

“Your highness, we can’t take this, you’re very kind but, it’s too much.” She pushes the bag back in your direction. 

“I insist, really.” You give her a reassuring smile as she cuts another slice of apple, handing it to the boy you assume to be her grandson. 

“I can’t just take your money…” She seems unsure still as she stares at it. 

“Yes, you can, we have too much of it anyway.” She still looks a bit hesitant so you try your best to put her at ease, it’s probably off putting, to have royalty show up at your place of business and offer you money without asking for anything in return. “Think of it as a purchase, I need a few things, this should cover everything and you can consider the rest as a tip.” This seems to convince her as she nods slowly. 

“If you insist, princess.” 

You grin at her.

“I do, insist.” You find yourself staring at the toddler, you haven’t gotten to interact with a baby since you left home, watching him makes you miss your younger siblings as you look back up at Vivian. “Would it be alright if I held him?” She lifts him up under his arms, passing him over the table to you.

“Say hello to the princess, Theodore.” She says, setting him in your lap. 

He doesn’t seem inclined to greet you but he doesn’t seem inclined to do anything other than drool, but he doesn’t protest now that you’re holding him which fills you with a sense of accomplishment as you carefully bounce him in your lap. 

“Hello, Theodore.” You whisper, leaning down a bit so you can see his face better, he has a few teeth that appear to be coming in as he chews, his wide eyes meet yours as he gives you a curious look. One of his chubby little hands grips your wrist and you can’t help but stare up at Din. The helmet is tilted down, watching you intently. “Isn’t he just the cutest thing?” You continue to gently bounce your knee as Vivian hands him another apple slice before looking up at the Mandalorian. 

“Would you like to hold him?” The moment she says it you’re turning in your seat, picking up the baby and holding him towards Din who’s starting to protest but you’ve already pressed Theodore into his arms. 

“Perfect, you can hold him while I help Vivian.” You give him a smirk before turning back around in your chair, you can hear Din sigh as you look away. “What do you need me to do?” 

She shows you what goes where, you just have to follow the labels and put the correct stickers onto the matching product. It’s busy work but you really don’t mind it, you’ve spent weeks upon weeks in the castle with a few small trips out, you consider any change from your routine to be a blessing. She seems a little shocked that you would leave the castle to do this kind of thing and you once again have to reassure her a few times as you start.

“Once we finish this up can you help me find a few things?” You ask, labeling a carton of berries. 

“Of course, princess.” 

You sit for a few more minutes, enjoying the peace as a radio in the corner plays a soft tune. 

“Careful now ik’aad.” You hear Din mumbling behind you, when you turn to look at him he’s got Theodore cradled in one arm, his free hand pokes at the little one's stomach as he chubby little fingers pull on his glove. He doesn’t even seem to notice you as the little boy tugs his glove off completely, his bare hand ruffles Theodores curls. “It isn’t wise to steal from a bounty hunter.” The boy finally cracks a smile and you feel a sorrow settling in your stomach. 

That is what you want. The sense of domesticity you feel watching him hold this baby, you can physically see the paternal instinct coming off of him.

Is he thinking about his own little one? 

“Can you help me put that back on, ad?” He whispers, Theodore shoves the glove back onto Din’s hand, missing his pinky, letting out a high pitched laugh that fills the room. 

You turn back to the table, you can’t bear to watch anymore. 

Pick up a fruit. Put a sticker on it. Ignore the little giggles behind you. Repeat. 

You manage that, ignoring the question that is now demanding your attention. You keep it pushed down and locked away, until suddenly, and without warning the exact thing you’re trying to ignore is asked. 

“Do you want children someday, princess?” Vivian’s voice snaps you out of your little work routine and you realize you’re nearly done labeling everything. 

Kriff, think of an answer. Obviously she’s implying children you would have with Kodo but you know that your answer is going to be noted by the man who is standing silently behind you now. You can practically feel Din anxiously waiting for you to answer. 

Certainly it’s too soon to think about kids with Din. 

Right?

Your time with him sort of melts together, it’s only been a couple of months since you met him but it feels like so much more considering the fact that you spend every waking moment together. 

But your relationship is technically undefined. 

For Maker’s sake you haven’t even said I love you, you can’t think about kids. 

Shit, do you love him? 

You’re gonna give yourself a headache, focus on the kid thing first before you give yourself another impossible to answer question.

Kids with Din wasn’t even a possibility a week ago, but now? This is obviously more than casual, he’s made that pretty clear with his several declarations of devotion to you. You wouldn’t want to have kids here, you couldn’t have kids here. You don’t even want to think about what Kodo would do if you were pregnant after never consummating your marriage with him. 

Of course you could wait until Kodo wanted heirs.

The thought makes you cringe.

But you could wait, and take a gamble, there would be no guarantee as to who’s children you’d be carrying though. Of course you’d know once they came out either blonde little monsters or brunette with pretty little noses. 

Now you’re thinking about little ones with your eyes and messy brown curls. 

And suddenly you’re filled with fear for your hypothetical child when you think of what your husband's reaction to babies that look nothing like him would be. 

No kids. 

At least not here. Maybe in another life, on another planet, you could have your little brunette babies. And a partner who doesn’t terrify you. 

“Ma’am?” Vivian once again snaps you back to reality, how long have you been staring at the table, Din is directly behind you now, his hand hovers over your shoulder, not actually touching you. 

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You clear your throat when your voice cracks. Din drops his hand but not before gently brushing his fingertips against you, it’s the most comfort he can give you with someone else present. 

“I was wondering if you wanted children someday.” She says it patiently, like she knows this question has you in mental turmoil. 

Answer honestly. 

“I haven’t really thought about it. Maybe, someday, Kodo isn’t really ready for kids yet.” It’s a shitty answer, and you kind of think Din deserves a better one but it’s true. You decide you don’t want kids if you’d have to have them here. If you were somewhere else and it was just you and Din then yes, maybe you’d give it a shot, but you have a husband here, so you’d never take that risk, not if it meant risking the lives of any babies who don’t bear a resemblance to Kodo. 

She doesn’t press further and you finish labeling everything in silence, once you’re done you help her stand. Leaning in to whisper to her.

“Would it be okay if Mando watches the baby for a few minutes while you help me with something?” You need to keep him distracted while you do this. 

“I think that would be fine.” She grins, the two of you starting to leave the storage room while he grumbles something about not being a babysitter as he follows, Theodore still held in the crook of one of his arms. 

Exactly as you’d hoped Theodore seems to get distracted by something, driving Mando to fall behind as you walk arm in arm with Vivian through the aisles. 

“I’m trying to make a dessert I got in the markets.” You keep your voice low and hushed. “It was sort of like a snack cake, I’m pretty sure it was vanilla and maybe cinnamon? I have a cookbook at home but I didn’t have time to grab it this morning.” She nods as you speak.

“I think I know what you’re looking for.” She points you towards a few different things, mostly essentials that you know you won’t have access to, it’s rather simple, flour, sugar, eggs, vanilla extract, and a few other things. Eventually Din catches up but Theodore appears to have found a burst of energy and keeps him busy once he sets him down and ends up chasing him through the aisles. Once you have everything she helps you check out, putting everything into cloth bags as you exchange pleasantries with Theodore’s mother, until Din walks over holding the little boy with purple stained lips in one arm and his other hand holds a carton of blueberries. 

“He got into these.” Stoic and professional as ever in public, he hands the giggling boy to his mother before setting the carton into your bags, placing a handful of credits onto the counter for them before gathering your things in his arms. Vivian tries to hand him his money back but he’s already out the door. You give her an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, he’s not much of a talker, I had a wonderful time today, thank you for keeping me company.” You take her hand in yours, the corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles at you.

“You’re welcome anytime, princess. We were honored to host a member of the royal family.” You give her hand a reassuring squeeze before giving Theodore a wave. 

“Good bye, Theo, I’ll visit soon.” He gives you a hesitant wave as you exit the shop, joining Din out on the sidewalk. 

“Did you get everything you needed?” He’s dropped that stern tone of voice.

His Mando voice. He’s Din again. 

“Yes, I think I’m good, I’ll need you to put all of that in your cabin.” You gesture towards the bags as you start walking. 

“Excuse me?” He easily matches your stride.

“I just want to try something. Can you just do this one thing for me without asking any questions?” You turn to stare at him and he doesn’t speak for a few moments but he nods. “Thank you.” 

★

When you arrive back at the castle it’s just after noon, you promise to stay in your chambers until Din returns after taking the groceries to his cabin.

If everything goes according to plan you’ll go to the library for a few hours until dinner time, you’ll get through dinner as quickly as possible. And once that’s taken care of, Din will sneak you out to the cabin for a few hours.

You’ve got several hours before you’ll need to do any of that though. And currently your mind is wandering a bit. You’ve had a mentally exhausting morning and there’s one specific thing you’re sure would help you relax. You want to not think about the many questions that are currently plaguing your mind. So you think of a less exhausting question.

Is he still going to be weird about having sex? 

Is he going to need you to really want it everytime?  

You always want it. If he’d give it to you all the time you’d never leave your room. If you ask him when he returns would he lock the door and take you right here in the middle of the day? 

It’s not like you haven’t had sex in the middle of the day. 

That gives you an idea. 

If this works you won’t have to beg him, you’ll just get him worked up until he takes it. And you know exactly what to do to get him to take it. It worked previously to get him all bothered so why not try again. 

When he returns you’ve got one of the books you bought yesterday under your arm and you give him an innocent smile.

“Library?”

He has one of the books he picked for himself in his hand. 

“Library.”

You try not to seem too eager as you walk rather quickly there. As always it’s eerily empty and you rush over to your nook. Leaving him plenty of space to sit next to you, which he does. You set your book in your lap so he can get a good look at it. 

Bound in Beskar. 

You stifle a laugh as you stare at the cover art of a woman in a loose fitting dress pressed against the chest of a Mandalorian. This Mandalorian’s armor is a mix of colors, the helmet reminds you of Din’s but the rest of the armor is a chestnut brown except for one of the pauldrons which is half blue and half tan.

“You can’t be serious.” He turns to stare at you and you grin. 

“What? It looks like a good book.” You feign innocence, opening up the book, delighted to find it’s as kitschy as you had hoped it would be. A story about a Mandalorian blacksmith and a woman in town who becomes employed by him. You ignore him completely, hoping he’ll take the bait but he just opens his own reading, so you rest your head on his pauldron and read. 

At the very least you’ll get to enjoy the book. 

Which you do for the better part of an hour. You’re so engrossed by the campy romance you don’t even notice when Din stops turning pages in his own book, sitting completely still next to you. 

Until you flip to a page where the blacksmith bends the protagonist over the anvil, he finally shifts a little in his seat, clearing his throat yet when he speaks his voice is husky and dangerous. 

“You really want to do this?” 

Yes. Probably more than anything. 

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“For someone who claims that I’m constantly plotting to get the upper hand on them you do a lot of scheming.” His hand is on your waist. 

You don’t have a response. Just a big stupid grin on your face. 

“You’re terrible. How many hours a day do you spend masterminding different ways to lure me into bed?” He squeezes your waist, pulling you a little closer. 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You scoff, although he may have a point. 

“I’m starting to think that you take me for a common whore.” His voice keeps getting softer and softer, you instinctively lean closer to him. 

“You’re distracting me from my book.” You whisper back to him.

“Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” That’s the last thing he says before standing up and you’re about to apologize for taking it too far when he kneels on the floor in front of you.

There’s a solid moment of silence before he speaks again. 

“If it’s so important, then keep reading.” 

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. 

You stare at the pages. trying to ignore the way he plays with the hem of your skirt.

Focus on the book. 

The Mandalorian in the book doesn’t have a name, coincidentally he goes by Mando. You couldn’t be happier about it. 

“Such a pretty dress.” He murmurs. You don’t dare stop reading to respond to him. Focusing on the smut in front of you, it doesn’t seem practical to chain someone to an anvil the way it’s done in the story. 

You’re trying to logistically imagine how one would weld another person's cuffs to an anvil without hurting them in the process when you freeze, hearing a hiss of air. 

“Keep your eyes on the pages.” You don’t dare move. Watching in your peripherals as he lifts the helmet off. 

In broad daylight. 

Where anyone could walk in. 

You focus on the words, you aren’t comprehending them in the slightest but you do everything in your power to make sure you see nothing. 

You decide to just close your eyes, it isn’t worth the risk. 

His hands push your skirt up to your waist, exposing your bottom half to him, his hand pushes your thighs apart and he hums softly in approval, admiring the marks he left there the previous night. 

“Now, I want you to be good and read your book for me, sarad, okay?” His hands guide the book up in front of you and you slowly open your eyes, he’s got you holding it close enough to your face that you can’t see him. 

He doesn’t wait for a response, he just hooks a finger around your panties, tugging them down quickly, removing them completely. You’re holding your breath in anticipation, waiting for the mouth that never comes. 

“Tell me about the book.” You feel him rest his head on your thigh.

“What?” He can’t be serious.

“The book you so badly wanted to read, tell me about it.”

He’s staring at your pussy and he wants to do this. Fine, if it gets you what you want, you have such little dignity left regarding your relationship with him at this point, why not? 

“The Mandalorian in it is a blacksmith, they call him an armorer…” You start hesitantly but once you get halfway through the first sentence he drags his tongue between your folds, drawing a sharp gasp from you, the moment you stop, he stops. 

He’s mean. 

You like that he’s mean. 

“He makes armor for all the other Mandalorians.” 

One hand pushes your thigh up a little more while the other spreads you open. 

“And the woman needed a job so she-” 

Without warning his lips wrap around your clit, you know better than to stop talking. 

“S-she takes a job in his shop, and then, kriff, she knocks something over-” 

He’s in no rush. He briefly sucks directly on your clit before moving down a bit, plunging his tongue into your weeping cunt. 

“Fuck, Din.” And just like that he’s pulled back. You almost throw the book in frustration but you can’t even do that because you might see something. “Come on…” You whine softly.

“Already with the complaining?” You hear him tsk quietly, his hand squeezing the meat of your thigh. “I’ve barely started.” 

“You’re being an ass.” You grumble.

“And you need to be taught a lesson.” His hand lifts briefly before slapping your thigh, the loud smack is a stark juxtaposition to the silence of the shelves. 

“What lesson?” 

His hand reaches up over your book pointing at the pages. 

“That if you want something, you need to ask for it. Now, tell me about your book.” 

The nerve of him, to tell you that you have to really want it and then days later tell you that all you had to do was ask. You’d tell him off right now, maybe even return the slap if you weren’t so turned on right now. 

You sigh.

“She knocks something over in his workshop.” 

He picks up right where he left off, his tongue pushes inside of you and you swallow your moan as his free hand starts to work your clit. 

“It’s nothing important, it's just like a- ah, a hammer or, or something.” 

He’s drawing slow circles onto that bundle of nerves, you’re embarrassed to say that he’s rapidly working you towards an orgasm already. Who gave him the right to know just how to push your buttons.

“And he gets mad, he b-bends her over his knee-” 

He switches, dragging his tongue upwards to your clit while plunging a gloved finger into your cunt. 

“D-dank farrik- and he spanks her, for- fuck- for dropping the, the thing.” 

He hums against you, the vibration has your thighs squeezing around his head, he doesn’t seem to mind, the hand that isn’t currently trying to fit a second finger into you throws one of your legs over his shoulder, wrapping his arm around it to keep you in place. 

“And, and, and- the next day she knocks something over ag- Din!” 

He pulls his fingers out completely before shoving them back into you. You don’t bother looking at the pages anymore, you let your head fall back, leaning against the glass of the window behind you.

“She knocks another one of his- his tools over to get him t-to spank her again. Shit, m-my eyes are closed.” You toss the book to the side, squeezing your eyes shut and letting your fingers tangle themselves in his hair. “He bends her over the anv- Maker, the anvil, and I don’t know what happens next, I haven’t gotten that far, d-don’t stop, please.” 

Thank the gods he doesn’t stop, he seems to be too content with his efforts to stop now. But just to make sure he doesn’t you keep rambling.

“M’sorry, for not telling you what I- what I wanted.” You’re mostly gasps at this point as you tug at his curls, trying to pull him closer while he methodically pushes his fingers in and out of you. And Maker that tongue.

It’s a good thing he has the creed because if he didn’t you’d spend all day on his tongue. 

He’s eagerly lapping at your clit, tracing different shapes against you, the constant stimulation has your back arching, your admission of guilt has him working faster than ever. 

“Next time… I’ll ask, p-promise.” You groan, fuck, you’ll ask right now, it’s basically a habit at this point. “Can I cum? Please, Din, can I?” 

He doesn’t pull off, too focused on what he’s doing but he mumbles something against you that sounds like yes so you chase that high. 

It doesn’t take long and you’re seeing stars, one of your hands detaches from his hair to cover your mouth as his name forces its way out of your throat. You’re vaguely aware of his tongue licking up your remaining wetness before pulling off of you, your eyes are still closed but his hand leaves your thigh and comes up to cover them. 

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” His lips crash against yours as you taste yourself on him.

There’s those words again. You’re about to ask him what they mean but he starts kissing down your face, moving from your lips to your chin to your jaw. Finally settling at your throat.

“Don’t go to dinner.” He’s whispering against the skin of your neck.

He could convince you to do just about anything right now. 

“Okay.” You whisper back, he doesn’t respond, did he hear you? You nod instead which seems to register with him.

“Tell him you don’t feel well.” He places a soft kiss on the column of your throat. 

“I will.” 

★

And that’s exactly what you do.

Once you’ve caught your breath you return to your chambers, summoning Leo and tell him you’re feeling a bit under the weather, and won’t be attending dinner with Kodo tonight. He protests a bit until finally you mention having lady troubles and his face gets an even darker shade of orange before he scurries off. 

And then you say goodbye to Din. With a whispered promise to see him soon. 

A part of you thinks someones going to come fetch you, and force you down to dinner but no one ever does. You told Din to wait two hours just in case but the first hour passes and nothing happens so you rush to the closet to change. It’ll be considerably easier to sneak you in and out if you aren’t in a shimmering gown. You manage to get out of the dress after a few minutes of struggling.

You find the pants you set aside. Happily tugging on a pair of gray trousers and a white cotton tunic. 

You’ve still got at least half an hour before he’ll be back so you search for the cookbook of desserts, it only takes a few minutes for you to find the snack cakes that he likes, folding the corner of the page you set it aside.

Next order of business.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

Find out what that means. 

You go to the pile of books, looking for the translation book you bought but you can’t find it. You double check every title but it’s gone.

The bastard must have taken it. 

“Son of a-” You start to grumble to yourself but the door swings open, and there he is. “You’re early, and you’re a thief.” You march over to the bed, grabbing the cookbook as he holds the door open for you.

“I missed you.” He murmurs. “And I have no idea what you mean.” 

He missed you.

Maybe you can forgive him for taking your book. 

“Fine. Let’s go.” 

You move quickly, he checks around corners before hurrying you forward in silence throughout the dark halls of the castle. You exhale loudly once you make it outside through the exit you use to get to the gardens. He holds a hand out to you but you hesitate to take it.

“What if someone sees from a window?” 

“It’s dark, they won’t be able to tell it’s us, it could be anyone.” It doesn’t reassure you completely but you take his hand nonetheless, walking through the darkness you quickly realize he’s right, you can’t see your feet in front of you as you stumble onward and you’re suddenly glad to have him guiding you. Walking in silence for a few minutes.

“So what’s this surprise you’ve got planned?” He gently squeezes your hand as you feel the terrain below your feet change, indicating you’re off of the lawn and onto the trail in the woods. 

“Promise not to laugh?”

It’s starting to remind you of the birthday you surprised him with and you’re feeling more and more stupid the closer you get to the cabin. 

“You know I can’t promise that.” He lets your arms gently swing back and forth.

“Then I’m not telling you.”

“Fine. I promise not to laugh.” He chuckles as he says it and you hope he sees your scowl in the darkness. 

“I was gonna bake something for you. Just so we could, I don’t know it’s dumb, but we can try and feel like a normal couple for a few hours.” You say it as quickly as possible, to just get it out of the way.

His arm stops swinging, he’s pulling you along now and you feel dread washing over you from his lack of a response. 

“Or we can do literally anything else, it doesn’t really matter to me…” You add quickly. You’re about to keep on rambling just to fill the silence but he scoops you up into his arms, you hear the sound of his boots stepping into water and it’s only a few more seconds before you hear the creak of the door followed by wood floors beneath your feet. He flips the switch that turns the lamps around his home on.

“I would love it if you baked something.” He finally says. He almost sounds choked up but you aren’t sure, and decide not to press as he sits at the table, removing his boots, setting them by the door to dry, you head towards the kitchenette, getting the things you purchased out of the cupboards and out on the counter. Opening the book as you read the recipe, hearing the clunk of his armor being removed behind you. 

You don’t have a lot of kitchen experience but it seems easy enough. Once you start mixing things in a large bowl you find he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. 

“Do you need help?” He sounds at peace. 

You want him to sound like this all the time.

“No, this is your surprise, go sit down.” You turn your head to smile at him, he’s down to just his flight suit and helmet as he retreats to the kitchen table.

When you check the ingredient list again you turn to check on him, he doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself, like he doesn’t know how to relax. 

You ask yourself a question you’ve wondered before. 

Who takes care of him?

All he does is take care of you, who’s taking care of him?

Has anyone taken care of him? Ever? 

You need to get him to relax, even just a little. So you start with a joke.

“You’re still mean during sex.” You crack an egg as you say it and you thankfully get a chuckle from him.

“And you still like it.”

“Clearly I’m not the only one who likes it.” You turn to face him, bowl in one arm, wooden spoon in the other as you mix. “You’re lucky I’m so good at doing what you like, what would you do without me?” You grin at him before turning back around, grabbing the cupcake tin you found, it isn’t the exact shape you neeed but it’s the closest thing he has. 

“Really? I didn’t realize it required a lot of skill to sit still and take it.” He taunts, you resist turning around and throwing something at him. 

“It’s harder than what you do. Believe it or not it isn’t easy to try and maintain your dignity in those situations.” You begin pouring the batter into the tin. 

“It isn’t exactly easy to convince you to lose your dignity, princess.” 

Maybe you can get him to relax in a different way. 

Afterall, he did say all you had to do was ask. 

“If only there was a way to find out which way is harder.” You turn the dial on the oven before sliding the pan in, it’s tiny, only just big enough to hold the one pan. “We’ve got about an hour.” You slowly make your way around the room, clicking the lamps off.

He stands up from his chair, visor trained on you.

“I’m asking for sex, if that wasn’t clear.” You say with a condescending tone as you sit on the bed. 

There’s no hesitation in his strides as he slots himself between your legs. He pushes his knee up between your thighs as he starts laying you back against his mattress. You sit up on your elbows.

“Sit with your back against the headboard.” You say it as sternly as you can manage and it stops him dead in his tracks making you grin. “I thought we wanted to find out which way was harder?” You say a bit quieter, he seems to be considering it for a moment before he nods, getting off of you and sitting as you told him to, legs out in front of him, his erection already visibly straining against the flight suit. 

You should probably figure out what you’re gonna do now. 

You were all talk up until this point. A part of you thought he’d just do what he normally does and just take what he wanted, now here you are and you’re the one who is expected to take. 

What does he normally do? 

He would get on top, in a position above you.

So that’s just what you do, straddling his waist as you sit down on his thighs. It’s actually a bit strange to have him not telling you what to do. 

That’s what you should do next. Tell him what to do. 

He usually gets you to tell him something, or admit something, or he’s just trying to prove a point. Like he wants you to be as flustered as possible.

And he doesn’t shut up unless he’s using his mouth for something else. 

Your hands drag down the fabric on his chest, stopping at his stomach before going back up to his shoulders. 

What could you get him to say that would get him fired up the way he likes to do to you? 

“What does ni kar'tayl gar darasuum mean?” Your hands rest on his shoulders as you say it and he laughs. 

“It’s nothing, just something you say to someone you care about.” He’s still laughing a bit as he says it.

“That isn’t an answer, I want to know what it means.” You let your hands unzip the crotch of his flight suit, his cock slaps against his stomach once you do, you hear him sharply inhale through his teeth.

“I don’t know what it means.” He mutters as you lean back a bit to get your own pants off, tossing them to the floor along with your panties. 

The cabin smells like vanilla. 

“I think you do.” You position yourself back in his lap, hovering above him on your knees as you bring your hand between your thighs, placing your other hand on his shoulder to balance yourself as you slide two fingers into yourself with a groan, your head falling forward against his helmet, his hands find your waist but you remove your fingers.

“No touching Din, not until I say so.”

“You know I’m stronger than you, right?” He drops his hands nonetheless. 

“Shut it.” You pick up where you left off with your fingers, scissoring them, stretching yourself a bit for him. “What does mesh’la mean?” You lean forward a bit more, spitting on his length as you remove your fingers once more, using your combined wetness and spit as a lubricant as you begin to slowly stroke him, his head leaning back ever so slightly.

“It means beautiful.” He sounds strained, it makes you smile as you continue your leisurely pace. 

“Okay. You can touch me now.” His hands fly back to your waist, his grip is tighter this time. “What about cyare?” You soften your voice, picking up speed a tiny bit so he knows that if he tells you he’ll get more. 

“B-beloved.” He stammers a bit and your face is getting hot. He was right, it is harder to do this, or maybe you just don’t have the patience for it because you know you should probably tease him for a lot longer but you don’t want to wait, moving yourself forwards to line him up at your entrance. Staring into the helmet as you grip him at the base of his cock.

“What about ni kar'tayl gar darasuum?” He begins a breathless chuckle but it’s cut short as you sink yourself down onto him halfway. You stare at him, waiting for an answer, when you never get one you take your time easing yourself the rest of the way onto him. He stays mostly quiet, aside from the occasional grunt or gasp but his grip on your waist is definitely going to leave bruises. “Cyar’ika? What does that mean?” 

“Darling.” With that answer you put your hands back on his shoulders, moving yourself up and down on him at your own pace, savoring the feeling of how he splits you open, due to your own impatience there’s a bit of a sting from the stretch but you wouldn’t change a thing. 

You maintain what you think is eye contact as you ride him, the only sounds now in the cabin are the sounds of your flesh slapping together and your collective gasps. 

“I’ll stop reading those books in front of you if you tell me.” 

He laughs again.

“I don’t mind the books.” 

You pick up the pace, lifting yourself almost completely off of him before slamming yourself back down on his length. His groan is downright pornagraphic. 

“Do you have a weird fetish? I’ll let you act out a weird fetish with me if you tell me.” That gets another breathless laugh.

“I don’t have a weird fetish.”

“I’ll buy something lacy and green and wear it for you again.” You need to convince him and soon because your thighs burn and you aren’t sure how much longer you’re gonna last, he rests his helmet on your shoulder.

“You’re gonna do that anyway.” You hate that he’s right. 

You’ve only got one other thing you can think of to offer, and honestly you just hope he doesn’t think you’re being ridiculous.

“If you tell me I’ll get a pill.” You blurt out. “I’ll get a pill and you can cum inside me.” His grip on your waist tightens the moment you say it and much to your surprise, you finish, in a blinding hot flash you feel your stomach tighten, and before you know it’s happening he’s hastily lifting you off of him, a strangled moan comes from the modulator as you watch him paint the inside of your thighs with his seed. 

There’s a beat of silence, you both breathlessly stare at each other in surprise until he starts to laugh and quickly you are too. He pulls you to him so you sit against the headboard as well. 

“So you liked one of my offers?” 

“I might have been interested in one of them” He chuckles in response as you rest your head against his arm. 

You’re turning towards him to give him a smile but it seems he has other plans.

He doesn’t give you a warning when he does it and you don’t hear the hiss of air, when you turn you see his plush bottom lip, chin, and patches of facial hair before shutting your eyes tight. 

Kriff.

You aren’t sure what to say, you're feeling a little shell-shocked as he leans forward, giving you a chaste kiss before situating his helmet once more, you don’t open your eyes until you hear it lock back into place. He says something so quietly you can’t quite make it out. 

“What did you say?” You whisper back, still trying to get over the shock of seeing a fraction of his face while simultaneously trying to remember every detail. 

“It means I love you.” 

Your eyes go wide and you stare at him in silence for so long that you have to make another batch of cakes.

The ones in the oven are burned when you finally go to check on them. 

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

[jsmifty]

ONE MORE NIGHT FNAF AU CHARACTERS - THE SUIT - Part 1

Above is the SpringBonnie suit from my FNAF AU/rewrite called "ONE MORE NIGHT".

More info under the cut!

This is the first of many posts showing off some of the characters designs. I will talk more about the AU itself in other posts, however since this is the first I might as well give a basic rundown, it will be at the bottom of this post. William Afton himself will get his own post but this is just about his suit.

Anyway. This is the SpringBonnie suit from my FNAF rewrite!

I never really liked the completely butt naked suits, it always looked really weird to me. Generally when i draw the other animatronics I stick to the basic canon design (without the clothes), but with Springbonnie I realllyyyy prefer the design with some clothing over the top. idk why, it just makes him look siller.

Also if those things are being worn, I can imagine they're stinking hot during the summer, and I know the three piece suit is probably no better for keeping cool but at least he looks cool while dying of heatstroke. :)

There is also an animatronic version version of the suit of course!

Axe > Knife

The suit (SpringBonnie) was made as a suprise gift for William for the opening (By Henry Emily).

The suit has two varients. The summer varient, and the other one. Specifically in the hotter seasons, the suit is only worn with the head, paws and feet + usually a purple suit.

The other version, is the full suit, which covers the full body (is featured in the small doodle to the left). The full suit sometimes features a bowtie, or an undercoat (just to decorate it a little). And you'd be suprised by how quickly it can be put on. William got springlocked in this version specifically.

When specifically William wears the suit, his hair being too long, pokes out from underneath the head of the suit. It sometimes gets tangled in the springlocks! This makes it difficult to take off, ESPECIALLY if the springlocks are released.

Some more art of him (all a bit old):

---------------------------------------------------

The rewrite, which will be uploaded to Ao3, is split into 4 to 5 parts (it will be put into an folder on Ao3 to make it more organized). The timeline follows off canon for the most part, however most of the events have been organized into a specific timeline. The order of the games specifically that I am following is below.

(if the text is unreadable: FNAF 4 → FNAF 2 + Sister Location → FNAF 1 → FNAF 3 → FNAF 6)

PART ONE is centred before the main six games, and overlaps FNAF 4. It is centred around Henry Emily and William Afton (and their families) during the early stages of their animatronic making endeavours.

The other 3-4 parts have been planned out but I won't talk about them that much right now.

The AU leans a lot more on the characters, their motivations, and their relationships with other characters. It focuses more on telling the story in full than in hints, like the games do.

It is likely not going to be completely accurate to canon, so if the timeline changes with new FNAF releases then big whomp I've already made a timeline and I'm not touching that thing again.

If anyone wants like, a clearer rundown of what the fic is about if you are interested please feel free to comment or go on my asks i really appreciate any interest shown in this project, its annoyingly important to me LMAO

IF YOU READ THIS FAR, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! like I yap so much, and this is me holding back and ive already written wayyyy to much for a singular tumblr post :( but yeah

If you'd like to see a specific character from FNAF in my AU/Rewrite, feel free to ask!!!!!!!

[see-the-fandom-imagines]

What’s in it for me?

Chapter 8

Chapter 1     Masterlist

Pairing: Kyouya Ootori x Reader Author: see-the-fandom-imagines   Warnings: Kyouya in a bad mood, other than that mostly cute fluff, filler Author’s Note: I hope you will like it! One tiny question: I have been thinking about uploading this same fic with a few changes that would be required, but using male pronouns. I feel like our male readers get too little attention every once in a while, so let me know in case anyone would actually be interested in reading this with male pronouns! Tag List: @radical-bunny, @redsakura101​, @ellouisa17​

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46325452/chapters/116633701

The next morning you awoke early. You needed a moment to realise where you were, but Haruhi’s steady breathing soon reminded you of everything that happened the day before. You groaned and stretched, before carefully sitting up. Bright sun light shone through the curtains, so you decided you might as well should get up and make some breakfast. You owed everyone as much for scaring them like you did. Quietly you walked into the bathroom. Looking into the mirror you noticed that your eyes were still a little puffy from crying, but that was nothing that a little cold water couldn’t save. You brushed your teeth and quickly washed your face, before slipping into your everyday clothes and sneaking downstairs. No one was there yet, and you enjoyed the short moment of calmness, a rare occasion when being anywhere with the host club. You had to admit you probably were relaxed for the first time in weeks, although you knew you also had to thank the six boys for that who were still sleeping upstairs. Silently you checked the fridge and the pantry for food and you actually found almost all of the basics – eggs, rice, flour, sugar … You could work with that. You had just finished heating the pan, when you heard steps coming down the stairs into the kitchen. You turned around to see who it was, after you had poured the first load of dough into the pan. “Mori-Senpai”, you greeted. “Good morning!” You smiled at him and he smiled back. “Good morning.” He stepped closer to see what you were doing. “I am making breakfast, I thought it was the least thing I could do after … after yesterday.” You carefully flipped the pancake, before turning towards him, as you noticed something. “I never really thanked you properly, but… well, thank you. Really.” You looked him in the eyes. “For saving my life. And everything in general, too.” You bowed down as deeply as you could without falling to your knees. He was quiet for a while, but then you felt the weight of his hand on your head as he ruffled your hair. Surprised you looked up into his smiling face. You knew this was his way of saying that it was alright. You smiled up at him. “If you want to you can sit down, I’ll bring the breakfast out in a bit.” “Let me help you.” “But…”, you started but he shook his head. “Please.” You chuckled and gave in. If he said he wanted to help, that’s what he wanted to do. You always enjoyed Mori’s simplicity in this regard. “Alright! You can make some pancakes if you want to? They’re mostly for Honey-senpai and the twins whenever they wake up!” Mori nodded and took the spatula from you. The rest of the morning was spend in a comfortable silence, only interrupted by you giving Mori some cooking tips and asking which vegetables and leftovers he wanted in the soup.

Proudly, Mori showed you the big stack of pancakes he had just made, and you gave him a thumbs up. “Amazing! Now we just have to wait for …” “I smell pancakes!” You almost flinched as you heard the older hosts voice behind you. When did he get up? Had he been awake this whole time? Slowly you turned around, looking into his happy face. “We made some for breakfast, I had a feeling you’d like them”, you said, trying not to be freaked out by his weird sense of smell for sweets. “Yay!”, he proclaimed, “Let’s set the table, so we can eat!” You nodded and handed Honey a stack of plates, when suddenly Mori stepped in front of you, grabbing your chin with one hand and lifting your head to look at him. You felt the heat creep onto your cheeks at his touch. “M-Mori-senpai”, you stammered, but then he lifted his other hand and gently wiped something of your face with his thumb. His fingers felt warm on your face and his touch was soft. A lot softer than how Kyouya had touched you yesterday. With wide eyes you stared up at him. “Flour”, he explained and immediately you understood and relaxed your shoulders again. “Oh”, you said, but before you could react any further, two very well-known voices appeared next to you. “Hey hey, are we interrupting something?” Immediately, Mori let go of your face as if he had been burnt by it. Hikaru appeared next to his brother. “Is there a secret kitchen party and we haven’t been invited?” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, huge kitchen party, too bad, you’re late.” “Hey”, Kaoru started poking your cheek. “That’s mean”, Hikaru said, poking the other one. “You know me”, you shrugged, “mean to the core.” “Have you made breakfast?”, they realized at the same time. “Yes.” “But why? “Yeah, there’s maids for that.” “Well, there are no maids here as you can see.” “Well, then there’s delivery”, Hikaru shrugged, and you waited for Kaoru’s response but instead he smiled down at you. “Thanks.” Hikaru sent him an irritated gaze, but you beamed up at him. “You’re welcome, now go, go, set the table if you want to eat!” “Do we have to?”, they groaned in unison, but a raised eyebrow from you was enough to get them to move. You shook your head, watching your friends set the table and a weird sense of security and happiness washed over you. It weirdly felt like home. Just… safe. Although a few people were still missing. Smiling at the view, you saw Tamaki and Haruhi walk down the stairs, bickering again, but stopping as they saw the almost fully set breakfast table. “(Y/n) have you done all this?”, Tamaki asked, but you shook your head. “I had some help." You smiled at Mori. “You could have woken me up, I would have helped”, Haruhi protested, but you shushed her quickly. “That’s exactly, why I didn’t wake you! You deserved some rest.” You looked around. “Well, Kyouya-senpai is still missing.” You checked your watch. “I better go wake him up.” Suddenly you felt the gaze of all the hosts on you. “Better don’t do that”, Hikaru said. “Not if you want to live”, Kaoru finished. “What do you mean?” “Kyouya has the blood type AB”, Tamaki explained, but you still were a little confused. “So?” “Kyouya really doesn’t like to be woken up”, Honey said, while already stuffing his face with his first pancake. “You are not the one to talk”, Mori solely commented on his cousin’s utterance, but since you also could not really place this, you just sighed. “Ah, come on, guys, it can’t be that bad … right?” “Try it at your own risk”, the twins said, shrugging, while already sitting down at the breakfast table and you gulped. “Well, I think he is going to be angrier, if we let him sleep and we miss our car back, so I guess I’ll… try my best.” But you had barely finished the sentence, when you were already beginning to doubt your idea.

Carefully, you made your way up the stairs and turned to the left where you knew Kyouya's room was located. You knocked carefully, but didn’t get a reply. You knocked again. Still nothing. You gulped heavily and decided to go in. Once you had stepped inside your eyes needed a moment to adjust to the darkness and suddenly you weren’t so sure anymore of what you were doing here. You had entered Kyouya’s room without his permission, to wake him up, also without his permission. Even morning people would have every right to be pissed at you and he apparently was the complete opposite of a morning person. Biting your lip you questioned why you were here again and thought about simply turning around, it was not too late to just leave again, but then you remembered the feeling of seeing everybody help out in the kitchen. And how happy that had made you. And how much you had noticed Kyouya’s absence in this moment. A part of you really wanted him to be part of this memory. Maybe it was foolish, but now that you were already inside his room you decided there was no going back. You took a deep breath, and carefully stepped closer to his bed. You looked at his sleeping face and couldn’t help but notice how relaxed he looked. You smiled a little to yourself. His hair was messy from sleep and he seemed unusually relaxed. He was always so composed, seeing him in this state was highly unusual, but you had to admit that you liked it. The messy hair was weirdly attractive. You swalled down the lump in your throat and knelt down beside him. “Kyouya-senpai”, you whispered, but he still didn’t move. “Kyouya-senpai”, you tried again, this time a bit louder. You sighed. This was not working. You stood back up again, and carefully moved his shoulder. “Kyouya-sen…” But this was as far as you got, for in the next second you felt Kyouya’s grip on your wrist that had just tried to shake him awake. The sudden pull of his touch made you fall over. Your upper body collided with his and your faces were just inches apart from each other as you now stared into his eyes. The usual brown-greyish colour had turned black and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he looked at you. “First you won’t let me sleep and now you wake me early in the morning?” His voice was ice cold. Wait, not let him sleep, what have you …Oh no, you must have woken him up last night with your crying. Immediately your face went bright red, thinking that he had heard your absolute breakdown. Your mouth went dry and your thoughts went blank. How much had he heard? Had he heard you cry? Had he heard anything at all? You felt your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. You felt his chest moving with his chest against yours, his fingers burning into your wrist and you were way too aware of the warmth radiating from him. You tried to think of something to say, anything. You wanted to apologize for waking him both yesterday and today, but you realized you were close enough to smell the faint scent of cedar and lavender that always seemed to surround him and it clouded your thoughts. All you could perceive was the warmth of his skin against yours and how close his face was. This was getting really weird, you had to say something, anything to make this better. Just apologise, (y/n), apolo … “I made breakfast.” You slapped yourself internally, but nothing else would come over your lips. You swallowed hard and looked down at him. His eyes seemed to regain a bit of colour, although, he had still gripped your wrist tightly and seemed slightly murderous. “You… made breakfast?”, he asked back. “Yeah.” “…” “…” “You wake me up ... to tell me you made breakfast.” “Yeah.” He seemed to think for a second, before you could feel his chest begin to vibrate with a low chuckle. “You made breakfast”, he repeated again and finally let go of your wrist. Right away you scrambled back up to your feet, although you were immediately missing the warmth. Kyouya sat up and looked at you. It was impossible for you to guess what he was thinking. He still radiated a slight murderous spirit, but at least he didn’t seem like he wanted to decapitate you on the spot anymore. “I’ll be right down.”

Trying to steady your breath you made your way back down the stairs, your legs a little wobbly from the second close call with death in the last two days and only now noticed that all the other hosts, including Haruhi had gathered at the foot of the staircase, looking up at you expectantly. Before you could react, you found yourself in Tamaki’s embrace. “Oh, (y/n), you can’t imagine how glad we are that you are alive and well!” You blinked a few times. It had been scary, but now he was overdoing it. “I am fine”, you tried to get out between him squeezing you, and it took the help of both twins to peel him away from you. “You don’t look fine”, they observed and you realized, that you probably still were blushing quite heavily. They seemed to mistake it for fear. “No worries, (y/n)-chan! You’re safe now!”, Honey assured you with a serious gaze. “And now sit down and have breakfast with us! A few pancakes will help you get better!”

It didn’t take long for Kyouya to come downstairs, neatly dressed and styled as always. It was as if he was a completely different person. “Good morning”, he wished everyone at the table and they responded. “Good morning, (y/n)”, he said to you in particular, his voice cold, and you knew he was still mad at you for waking him up. “Good morning”, you mumbled back. You had just gotten up to get Honey a few more pancakes, and immediately made your way back into the kitchen to grab another bowl of rice, a miso soup and some of the fish from yesterday you had been frying up again. You placed them one by one in front of Kyouya who looked at you with an unreadable gaze. “I said I made breakfast”, you mumbled, and shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “And I remember you once said you don’t really like sweet stuff, so I made something savory, too.” Kyouya didn’t reply and you didn’t dare to look into his face so you made your way back to your seat to finish your own breakfast. You tried to ignore him, but somehow you caught your gaze wandering back towards him, eyeing the food in front of him suspiciously. You knew it tasted fine, you had had some yourself and Mori had also told you it’s delicious, so you weren’t sure why you were so worried about what Kyouya might think about it. You chewed on a bite of rice, and acted as if you were listening to something Haruhi was telling you, but actually you were watching the dark-haired host from the corner of your eyes, curious about how he'd react. You watched him separate a piece of fish and put it in his mouth. He halted for a second and looked at you, almost surprised. Your gaze met his for a second, but he immediately averted his gaze and focused it on the food again. You had to turn back to Haruhi, so that she wouldn’t realize that you hadn’t been listening to a word she said, but you could have sworn that you had seen a small smirk on Kyouya’s face, as he took a second bite and somehow this made you irrationally happy.

Kyouya for his share did not remember when he had last eaten a homecooked meal like that. Trying to show as little emotion as possible, he nonetheless gladly realized that she seemed to be feeling better. A small smile played on her lips now and he watched her talk and laugh with the other hosts. That sight might have even been worth getting woken up for. Might.

[jaysarenice]

Current fmsh au lineup sketches so far! (From left to right: Joel, Grian, Gem, Etho)

Ignore how Jimmy’s not here I’m struggling so much on him

Individuals and some design notes below!

Joel

I didn’t want to give him too many “heavier” type clothing items. He’s constantly hot (temperature) so wanted to minimize more “hot” clothes. He wears a loose white tank top and a black pleather vest, as well as brown pants and black pleather boots. I gave him fingerless gloves for two reasons. 1: They’re cool. Joel wants to look cool, at all times. And 2: I like wearing fingerless gloves (I just like the feeling of it) so more self-projection :3 He has his usual jewelry that I give him (a heart necklace, three earrings on his left ear, an eyebrow piercing, a necklace with a feather from Jimmy and Grian, and three piercings on his tail tip) and I made his usual bug antennae into demon horns cus he loses the bug in this au (just felt it was too much) I love how pissed off he looks here

Grian

I love when people draw Grian as this tall and lanky bird human cryptid guy so that’s what I went for. I think I accomplished it pretty well :3 I usually imagine he has multiple wings so I kept that here. He’s got three sets of wings on his head/face and two sets on his back. I actually didn’t give him anything too different from my usual design for him. Same tail, same basic outfit, etc etc. Main thing different here is his little horns and hairstyle (hairstyle only because I constantly struggle with his hair but this might become a new default). Grian (and many other people with animal feet) wear basically toe-less socks that usually just cover the bottom of the person’s feet. It’s to protect them from the different textures that may harm the bottom of their feet. You can see these on Gem and Etho as well. Grian wears them for looks, since bird feet are a bit stronger than the average paw pad. Also, he wears glasses cus why not. Also also, not pictured here is a matching necklace with Joel, with a feather from Jimmy and Joel.

Gem

Gem pretty much barely changed. Her hairstyle changed, and I added some skulk bits on her back. Also I changed her ears a bit. But she’s still a jackalope centaur with semi-curly hair, and wears a sweater beneath a pair of overalls. I did give her a wrist thing cus she’s the gadget maker of the group (don’t know why, just felt it cool). But that’s about it

Etho

Etho didn’t change ate all. Actually this is just the best I’ve drawn his jacket (I struggle with it). His hair is a little different than the last time I drew it but other than that Etho’s the same as ever

Jimmy and some others (Scar, Tango, and Pearl most likely) will be coming soon. I’ll be trying to work on these designs while I wait for the ao3 invitation thing so I can make an account an upload more of the full fic there for you guys :3 (the expected day for it to get to me is January 28th so it might be a bit but it’s fineeee)