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featherandferns · 1 year ago

Text

hurricanes (fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader | angst central

content warning: mentions of drinking and drug use; mentions of sex; arguments and fights; unhealthy relationship

word count: 7k.

blurb: for so many of your memories, bad and good, it feels as if hurricanes are at the forefront. One night, during the midst of a storm, JJ comes to your house, seemingly to bring you one last memory of him.

You hate hurricanes.

They’re unruly and unpredictable; thrashing and destroying anything in their path. Chaos incarnated.

From inside your house, the windows rattle from a vicious blow of wind. Sighing, you leave the comfort of your bedroom to go to the kitchen. There’s no chance you’re getting to sleep anyway. Better brew a pot of coffee and maybe get some homework done throughout the night. As you stand over the machine, waiting for it to brew, you look out the window. It’s dark. Rain is splattered across the glass, droplets chasing after one another in an undisclosed race. You manage to make out your reflection. Bags under your eyes. Clothes hanging sadly on your body. Only recently had you managed to start eating well again, putting on weight and getting through more than one meal a day. So, knowing the effort that you’ve been making, you manage a smile.

The t-shirt you’re wearing is one of your favourites. It holds memories: the fit of laugher that had you in tears one night at a bonfire; the day you got your first A on an exam; a date with JJ. Your finger comes to tease at the collar, fingering the fabric, your smile growing from the memories. It felt nice to finally reminisce about your ex-boyfriend without wanting to crumble. Without the thought feeling like someone was twisting the knife that had yet to be eased out of your chest.

The coffee machine stops buzzing. You look down, coming back to yourself, and pour yourself a cup of coffee from the glass mug. Moving to sit on the sitting room sofa, reaching for the remote, you decide to try and distract yourself with a show. Your parents aren’t home and brother’s at college, granting an empty, quiet house. As you flick through the options on Netflix, you hesitate on one. Narcos. JJ loved that series. Had you watch some of the episodes with him – explaining the characters’ motives and filling in the plot-points from whatever you’d missed. A part of you deliberates watching it and letting yourself slip into some fantasy that JJ is sat by your side on the sofa, his hand comfortably on your knee, eyes glued to the screen. But you don’t. There’re new shows to watch, so why go back on the old? Settling on some Netflix-own drama, you sigh and have a sip of your coffee.

“No way, John B actually thinks he’s found the Royal Merchant,” you snort.

JJ shrugs. “That’s what he says.”

“Where?”

“At the bottom of the ocean,” JJ replies.

“No doy, idiot. I mean where abouts at the bottom of the ocean?” You chuckle, rolling your eyes.

“Oh! Somewhere off the continental drift,” JJ tells you.

He’s opened a bottle of beer for you and is passing it over. The two of you are lounging on your dad’s fishing boat, taking advantage of the nice weather.

“Bullshit,” you say, taking a swig.

“I’m telling you; he’s found it. The stuff in that motel room safe was fucking insane. The cops just pocketing the cash, too?”

“Cops are dirty: shock horror,” you sarcastically return.

JJ laughs with a nod. Then, smiling at you, he says, "well, all I know is when we find the Merchant-”

“-If-”

“When!” he corrects loudly, making you laugh. Then he’s shuffling up so he’s sat right next to you, hooking an arm comfortably around your waist. “When we find it, I’m using my share of gold to spoil my girl rotten.”

“Oh?” You prompt, raising a brow at him with a grin. He nods down at you.

“Mhm. I’m talking fancy dinners and expensive jewellery and that perfume you always check out whenever we’re at the mall but never buy.”

“It’s overpriced,” you brush off, rolling your eyes.

“It’d smell perfect on you,” JJ affirms. Makes your cheeks go warm.

Nudging him with your elbow, the bone digging softly into the flesh of his abs, you say, “well, I guess I could get on board with that then.”

“Just you wait until we find it,” JJ promises, raising his bottle in a silent toast.

Rolling your eyes lovingly at his ways, you lift yours to clink the neck of your bottle against his. JJ leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, sweet and summer-filled, with the lingering taste of beer. You gladly kiss him back, sinking into the familiar feel of your boyfriend. This is going to be the best summer yet.

About ten minutes into the second episode, you think you hear a knock at the door. No; it’ll be a branch having blown away in the breeze. Sighing, you go back to the show, coffee nearly finished and luke-warm. Then, it comes again. Two short raps. Pausing the show, you turn and frown at the door. You can see it from the sofa. There’s a pause, maybe a minute, and then three knocks. You get up and make your way to the door, deliberating who in the hell could be coming to your house in the middle of a hurricane at (you glance to the clock on the hallway as you go) ten to midnight?

As you undo the latch on the door and twist the key to unlock it, you feel your gut twist. It’s as if it knows something you don’t. Then, pulling the door open, wincing against the cold and the wind and the rain from outside as it fights its way in, you come face to face with JJ. The sight of him makes you colder than the weather ever could.

“JJ?”

“Can I come in?”

“Wh—”

Your voice trials off, throat running dry, and you glance back into the house for some reason, as if the coat-stand might have the answers. Looking back to him, brain muddled, you see how he’s leaning against the wall of the entryway. How he’s holding his flask in his hand, the lid unscrewed, and you close your eyes with a sigh.

The rational part of you screams to close the door on him. Do the right thing, the hard thing, and turn him away as if you have barely acknowledged him being there. But it’s not that simple. Nothing is, the moment any sort of feeling has been involved, and you find yourself looking into his red-rimmed eyes. You’re not sure if he’s high or he’s been crying.

“Please,” he says, voice quiet as if defeated. “I just wanna talk.”

He’s dripping from head to toe, drenched from the rain. Hair sticking to his forehead, leaking water down the back of his neck. Hands shaking from the cold and the booze. Wordlessly, you open the door fully and step to the side, making space for him to walk in. After he catches on and enters, you catch a whiff of his cologne. Musky yet fresh; so wonderfully him. It makes one of the scabbed cuts on your heart crack open. Closing the door, fighting to keep in the warmth, you sigh and face JJ. He’s standing there awkwardly, unsure of where you want him to go. He’s barely able to keep his balance right, fumbling from leaning his weight on one leg to the other.

You gesture to the kitchen. “Go sit down. I’m gonna grab you a towel.”

JJ nods and does as you say, heading into the kitchen. You try not to spiral in your thoughts as you go to the boiler closet, fishing out a fresh bath towel. There’s only one thought that you can’t seem to silence. What is he doing here?

A part of you still feels as though you can hear the wind of the storm beating against the thin walls of the police tent. The sirens and the chatter and the panic. The chaos of trying to help John B and Sarah escape, and the never-ending torture of waiting for any news. That they escaped. That they were caught. That they were even alive.

That was a week ago now.

JJ’s not answering his phone. You haven’t been sleeping well. Your nights are nothing but restless, nightmares plaguing you about all the ‘what ifs’ and the guilt of waving them off in the boat, practically sending them off to their grave. It’s a lot for a seventeen-year-old to burden. Your parents tried their best to help you. They brought you breakfast the first morning that you stayed back at your house (they’d let you crash at the Chateau with the others for a couple of days at first, understanding that all your friends needed one another at that time), and never forced you to come down for dinner. Wallowing felt about the best you could do. You just wished it wasn’t so lonely.

Sighing, ending the call that never stopped ringing, you glance over to your trainers. Since coming back from the Chateau, you haven’t left your house once. Hell, you’d barely left your bed. Then you’re staring at your phone again. At the string of missed calls and ignored texts from JJ. You knew him well and knew how easily he could slip when things changed for the worse. John B was like a brother to JJ. Their bond was so close that it sometimes challenged your own and JJ’s, though never in a malicious way.

Getting up, you put on your trainers and lace them up. You had to check that JJ’s okay.

The air feels fresh on your skin, like a plant gulping down water after days in a drought. You bask in the rays of sun that push through the cloudy overhead. Walking to JJ’s was familiar and quick. Soon enough, you’re trudging up his front lawn and walking around to his window. He’d always told you to come in via there. You never knew where his dad was and what state he might be in, but the odds were low on his being passed out in JJ’s room. The windows always unlocked and you force it up and open with a grunt. Then, you’re climbing on JJ’s desk and glancing around his room. He’s not in there.

What is in there is countless empty beer cans and bottles. The useless ends of joints and cigarettes. It smells musty and sad, like nobody had cracked a window in days. You sigh and kick some stuff out of the way (used clothing and trash) so you can reach his bedroom door. Gently easing it open, you glance into the hallway and through to the sitting room. On the coffee table, you can make out the toes of JJ’s boots. Taking your chances that his dad isn’t home, you walk down the hall to the sitting room.

JJ’s passed out on the sofa. His head is leant back, mouth parted in silent snores, and in his hand is an empty beer bottle. The sitting room is just as bad as his bedroom, maybe even worse. It stinks of weed and alcohol and mould. Everything about all of it terrifies you. You didn’t think he’d sunk this low, so fast. Why hadn’t he reached out to you?

He gets an email and his phone pings, making you glance to it. It’s on the coffee table. There on the home screen are the several missed call notifications and ignored texts from you. If it were any other situation, you’d label yourself as psycho. But you knew something was wrong. Could feel it in your gut.

“JJ,” you say. Clearing your throat, louder, you repeat, “JJ.”

He doesn’t stir.

You reach out a hand to shake his boot.

“JJ, wake up.”

Nothing.

Sighing, you walk around so you’re stood at his side and lean down to shake his shoulders gently, hoping to ease him awake.

“Wake up, JJ.”

He jolts awake with a gasp, eyes flying open. His hands come to your forearms in a tight grip, reflexively, and you try to pull away. The moment he registers it’s you, he let’s go. He mumbles your name, voice still thick with sleep.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to check on you.”

JJ frowns. He rubs at his face and pushes some of his uncombed hair back. His breath smells like stale liquor; it half makes you want to cringe.

“Why?”

“Because I’m worried about you. And, I guess I was right,” you say, looking to the pandemonium of the room.

JJ gets to his feet and shakes his head. He’s walking towards the kitchen and you follow.

“You didn’t need to, alright? I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, JJ,” you tell him.

He pulls open the fridge. His back is to you. The shirt he wears looks creased and well-worn, as if he hadn’t taken it off for days. It reminds you of everything that happened and just how raw the wounds must be for JJ. How much deeper they are, too.

“Look, I know this is hard for you,” you tell him gently.

JJ grabs a beer and closes the fridge. Cracking open the can, he turns and rests his back against it, taking a swig. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not ‘fine’, JJ,” you say.

JJ shrugs and has another gulp.

“Why didn’t you talk to me?” you ask. Gesturing to him, you add, “you look like you haven’t slept in days, JJ.”

“What’re you gonna do? Sing me to sleep?” he snorts. He’s drunk.

“That’s not the point, JayJ. My parents would’ve let you stay over. I don’t like the thought of you here by yourself.”

“I’m not something that needs fixing, alright? I can take care of myself,” JJ tells you, his voice becoming tighter.

“I’m not saying you need fixing—”

“Are you sure? Cause it sounds like you’re pitying me pretty bad right now,” JJ cuts in. His eyes are narrowed at you as if accusing you of some conspiracy.

Trying to remind yourself of the abundance of emotions he must be feeling right now, alongside the fact that he’s drunk and possibly high, you do your best to keep your calm.

“Of course I’m pitying you, JJ. In the way that a girlfriend would pity her boyfriend who’s dealing with some fucking awful loss,” you tell him.

“He’s not dead, alright? Don’t talk about him like he is,” JJ bitterly mumbles, looking down at his boots.

“We don’t know that, JJ—”

“Well, you don’t know that he is dead, alright? So stop talking about it like you want it to be true!” he explodes. He stalks towards you, angry. “Do you want him to be dead, huh? So you have a little project to work on? So you can come visit your scum of a boyfriend and do your charity work, to make yourself feel better. To distract you from your own shitty insecurities?”

“Why are you saying this, JJ?” you whisper, taken aback. He’s never spoken to you like this. Ever. Not even when the two of you argue. In truth, you don’t argue. Merely bicker, with it all resolved within the day. Nothing malicious and intentional, with words sharpened to cut. The way he’s looking at you right now – as he stands over you, shoulders rigid as if preparing for a scrap – is terrifyingly unfamiliar.

“I don’t want you here, okay? I didn’t ask for you to come here.”

“You want me to leave then?”

“Yeah, I do, actually.”

“You do?”

“Yes. That’s what I fucking said,” JJ seethes. You find yourself pushing back, getting in his face just as much.

“Fine. Drink yourself fucking blind for all I care,” you spit back.

It’s only been a week, and already a chip has been chiselled into the sculpture that was your relationship. The first crack in the mausoleum.

JJ’s sat at the round kitchen table, shivering like an orphan, and you have to keep yourself from instinctively wrapping the towel around his shoulders. Instead, you place it in front of him. He’s put the flask away, it seems.

“Thanks,” JJ mumbles, taking it.

As he rubs his hair dry, you head to the coffee machine. He needs to sober up and you’d found that coffee always worked for him. Hell, you could do with another cup too, perhaps just to keep your hands busy.

“It’s crazy out there,” JJ eventually says, hesitant to start a conversation. You close your eyes at the sound of his voice. “Brian’s throwing a tantrum.”

You’re half-tuned in, mostly lost in the droning of the coffee machine as it brews. You look down at your hands to find that you’ve been messing with the skin around your nails. It was a nervous habit you had, and one that hadn’t shone through in a couple of months. Not since you and JJ had ended things.

The coffee is done all too soon. Pouring two mugs worth, you brace yourself as if preparing for a slap as you turn to face JJ at the table. His hair is now damp, no longer dripping down his face. Wet clothes are still stuck to his skin, outlining the perfection of his body, and you have to force your eyes away. It’s hard to think that only two months ago you would be blessed enough to be able to run your hands under his shirt, along the smooth, salt-scrubbed skin of his stomach. What once brought you pleasure in thought now only brought pain.

Taking the seat opposite him, you slide his mug over and take a shaking sip of your own. Your eyes are down, focused on the table-top, tracing the scratch marks in the wood, but you somehow know JJ’s watching you. Can feel his eyes following you.

“Thanks for letting me in.”

“You said you wanted to talk,” you reply.

JJ nods: you catch it in your peripheral. “I do.”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Us,” JJ says. You close your eyes. You were worried he’d say that.

“There’s nothing for us to talk about, JJ. There isn’t an ‘us’, anymore, okay?” you sigh. JJ’s already shaking his head.

“There is. You know there is,” he returns in a pleading tone. “Things can go back to how they were again.”

“What?” you almost whisper, brows furrowing in confusion.

“John B and Sarah are back now and…And everything can go back to how it was,” JJ tells you, almost hopeful.

You shake your head, lips pressed in a deep frown. Your fingers press against the hot porcelain of the mug.

“JJ. That’s not how this works.”

“I know things got messed up. That it’s my fault that they did, alright? That everything got messed up after John B…”

Died.

Your eyes dart up to meet his. There’re fresh tears gathering in the waterline. It’s weird seeing JJ cry so openly. He only did it once or twice in your relationship, in front of you. He never seemed willing to let you see that side of him, as if it might make him weak. You notice how his hand twitches away from the mug, as if he might reach out for yours, but something in him decides not to. Instead, the two of you keep your distance; a formal width of space, sat on either side of the table, not daring to cross into the others’.

“We can go back to how we were,” JJ privately says.

Your purse your lips, eyes slipping shut a moment to gather your thoughts. Perhaps this is how Eve felt, when the serpent tried to tempt her with the fruit. Here sits the only guy you’ve ever loved, extending an invitation back into the past, of a time when you were happy, and breathing didn’t hurt, and the thought of romance wasn’t something you shunned. But you can’t go back to the past. Time is forever moving forward, continuous and unchanging, and the sooner you make peace with that, the sooner it can start to heal your wounds.

You never spoke about that first fight. Never acknowledged it, really. JJ just showed up at your house, a couple days later, seemingly sober, and you both decided to move forward. You brushed it under the rug as a slip-up. That he needed to reel out of control a little in order to let himself recover, like the way the earth needs a good thunderstorm during summer to replenish the plants. I mean, how were you to know that it was the beginning of the end?

It was the day after you'd made the memorial at the chateau. Yourself and JJ had slept over at the house, after making love on the pull-out. The moment his hands were on your body, it felt like a silent apology for the fight, and you'd let yourself forget all about it. Waking up tangled in his hold, legs a knotted mess and arm tingling with pins-and-needles from his weight, you can't help but smile. It was the nearest thing to normalcy you'd felt in a long time, since Sarah and John B went missing at sea.

"Morning," you mumble sleepily the moment you feel JJ stir. He presses a kiss to your forehead. His skin smells of dry sweat.

"Hey," JJ rasps.

"You want breakfast?"

"What's on the menu?"

You can hear the smirk in his voice, the teasing grin to his words, and it makes you chuckle tiredly. This was the JJ you missed. As one of his hands moves to grope at your ass, you're laughing, gently pushing him off you.

"Perv," you mutter as you get up. Steal his t-shirt from the floor and pull it on.

You trudge to the kitchen, shoving your messed up hair out of your face, and open the cupboards to search for something good. There's no point looking in the fridge; majority of the things in there will be spoiled. This is the first time any of you have been back at the chateau since a couple of days after the incident.

Grabbing a can of soup, you decide it's better than nothing (though far from a classic breakfast). The drawers and counters are a mess. You sigh as you search for a can opener, coming up empty.

"You got your pocket knife with you?" you ask JJ.

He's lounging on the pull-out, scrolling through his phone. The only thing keeping him decent is the blanket that's half-arsedly flung over his waist. You missed seeing him like this, and the sight has you smiling.

"Should be in the left pocket of my shorts," he mumbles in reply, absentmindedly.

You wander over and drop to a squat, digging through his cargo shorts. Nothing, nothing...Your fingers feel something plastic and tactile. Frowning, you pull it out. It's a small plastic baggy containing a white powder. You're not stupid. It's either coke or ketamine. Your frown seems to deepen. Standing up, you hold it up.

"What's this?"

JJ looks up. Spots the bag. Takes in your expression. "Nothing."

"JJ," you say, tone nothing short of serious.

He sighs and rubs at his face, as if finding an excuse to avoid eye contact. "Look, it's fine, alright? I just need a little pick me up, now and then."

"This isn't a pick-me-up, JJ," you say. You know you sound angry, but why shouldn't you be? JJ having an addictive personality was no secret to anyone. His drinking was bad enough. Adding drugs like cocaine to the mix, and your worry trebled.

“What? Are you telling me what I can and can’t do now?” JJ asks. His voice borders on a scoff.

“This is dangerous, JJ.”

“I’m scared straight, hun. Thanks,” he mutters. Leaning forward, he snatches the baggy from you.

“I don’t like the thought of you taking that stuff, JayJ. It’s a slippery slope,” you slowly reply, trying to level your temper.

JJ sighs impatiently, rolling his eyes. It doesn’t help calm the storm brewing inside of you.

“Why’d you always have to ruin everything, huh?”

“Excuse me?”

“Things were finally starting to go back to normal and you have to fucking fixate on another thing. I swear to God, I never do anything right by you. I mean, I’d just gotten over you losing your shit at me the other day—”

“Gotten over it? I’m sorry, let me just check I’m hearing this right?” you interrupt, shifting your weight. “You got over the fact that your girlfriend had to track you down in person to check you were okay, to find you drunk and passed out? Then you yell at me for coming and tell me to leave, several times. And you remember me being the villain in all of that?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. You didn’t do some fucking FBI work to find me; I was in my own Goddamn house.”

“Not the point, JJ,” you loudly counter.

JJ rolls his eyes at you and moves to stand, pulling on a pair of boxers. “You’re such a bitch sometimes, you know that?”

You stare at him. Did you just hear him right? Before you can ask or even respond, JJ’s walking out onto the porch as if you’re not in the midst of an argument.

You watch as he grabs a leftover vape that’s laying on the window ledge. There still seems to be some power left in it. He takes a couple of hits. You simply stare after him. It seems useless to follow. Useless to keep chipping away at this fight that you’re bound to lose. So, instead, you turn back to the kitchen and let the distance between the two of you gape. Another argument unresolved.

Opening your eyes again, meeting his that shimmer blue in the low light of your kitchen, you can’t bring yourself to do anything but frown, your expression the image of sympathy. 'We can go back to how we were.'

“We can’t, JJ,” you whisper.

“Who says we can’t?”

“I say we can’t,” you reply.

“You don’t understand,” JJ tells you, as if ignoring your words entirely. You’re shaking your head, staring down into your coffee, but it doesn’t seem to deter him from continuing. “I can’t picture my life without you in it. These past couple months have felt like there’s a lack there or something. Like something’s missing. And something is missing. You are. You’ve always been there for me, even before we were together. I don’t…I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on with my life without you in it.”

You’re crying now. Silent tears fall down your face. Muffled pain.

The touch of his hand on yours feels electric, but not in a good way. Not in the way it used to. It’s like the shock that it thrills inside of you, which once was excitement, is now merely pain. You half want to jolt your hand back, but that would be too dramatic. Too much.

“Please. Please,” JJ’s begging, crying too. “I just need you in my life.”

“I don’t understand how,” you tell him, voice wet. You meet his gaze again. It feels almost too painful to maintain it for too long. “I can’t be your friend again, JJ. And I definitely can’t be your girlfriend again. So how am I meant to be in your life?”

“You just can! You just have to be there! You have to be there for me!”

Your lip quivers.

He gathers himself, exhaling slowly. “You just…Have to.”

Have to. Like there wasn’t any other way. Like his planet doesn’t spin without you and his universe is empty of planets and stars. Like his world is void of life and you’re the water that can make his plants bloom again. But it doesn’t bring you joy like it would’ve months ago, to hear him say that. It’s too much, too late. Antique coins lose their value.

“I mean…Don’t you miss me?”

Your vision focuses on his tear-streaked face again. Hair still damp. Cheeks pink and nose red.

“Of course I miss you,” you whisper, half-insulted that he’d even ask that. Can’t he see how much this is tearing you apart? “I miss all of it.”

“You don’t have to though,” JJ says. “We can go back to how it was.”

You finally look back down to see his hand still atop of yours. Touch gentle and kind. He used to be kind to you, all the time. Never would raise his voice at you and would never make you cry. But after John B and Sarah vanished, their deaths presumed, it was like something in him snapped. It’s easier to destroy a sandcastle than to build it, and JJ seemed hellbent on destroying whatever bond the two of you had - the love the both of you shared - rather than trying to protect it.

Your relationship with JJ was delipidating. Like a temple built on an eroding cliff, what was once beautiful and serene is now crumbling away, brick by brick. Pope and Kiara and even a stranger in the Goddamn street can see how dysfunctional it is. What was once affection and care is now venom and pain. And yet, underneath all the animosity, there’s still a love that keeps the two of you in place, fighting for things to stay together. After every blowout, one of you ends up in tears and the other is ironically the only person who can comfort them. Then comes the kisses and the apologies and the make-up sex, and the promises to not fight again, and to do better, and to fix what you have. But it’s all a fiction. The next fight comes and it’s uglier still.

JJ seems almost unrecognisable to you most days. The drinking and the drugs and the recklessness is hideous. Brings a pain to your heart that can only be rivalled by the one that comes when you fight. Pope and Kiara don’t see it as much as you do. It’s like he tapers it down for them, only giving them a glimpse. But you’ve always had the honour of seeing every part of JJ, including this. When you beg for him to stop drinking, to try and get himself under control, he goes on the defence. JJ’s words shoot to kill when he’s mad. And it’s like the venom in his words brings out an ugly side of you, too. Infects you with his anger until you're lashing out. When you’re in blind fury, you don’t care what you say, so long as it’s painful. Words that you’d never think come flying out of your mouth. Things you’d never mean are said with nothing short of conviction. About him. About his dad. About him being like his dad. About John B too, sometimes. About it being JJ’s fault. But he doesn’t hold back either. About you. About you and your parents. About you and your exes. About you and John B too, sometimes. It’s ugly and painful and evil.

But it was always words. Sticks and stones, right? You can sooth any cut from a slander with an apology said through soft kisses and softer caresses. Overlay the memory of an insult with sweet-nothings and moans of affirmation. Only words. So, when the next inevitable fight comes with the two of you at his house, after JJ does something particularly stupid at a kegger after flirting with a girl right in front of you to make you jealous, all because you’d said something the other night, you prepare for the hurl of abuse.

“I was just fucking talking to her!” JJ shouts.

You scoff and roll your eyes. “You were practically drooling all over her.”

“Drooling!?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re fucking delusional, you know that?” he chuckles darkly.

“I’m delusional?”

“Yeah, you are.”

“Are you seriously calling your own girlfriend crazy, right now? Do you know how Goddamn sexist that is?” you snap.

JJ shakes his head and does that all-too-familiar walk to his kitchen. You follow as per. It’s like the two of you follow a script when you fight. Insult, jab, insult, jab, drink, jab, insult, cry, silence, drink, comfort, kiss, sex, apologies, promises, sleep. It’s tiresome and it’s pathetic but you don’t want to leave it, because if you do, then you have to face the alternative. You have to face having nothing. No arguments and no JJ. Somehow, arguing with JJ is better than not having him to talk to at all.

But with every fight comes the fading hope that this rough patch will pass, and you’ll be out of the woods, stronger than before.

“Don’t walk away from me, JJ!”

“Stop screaming at me like a psycho bitch!” he shouts back, slamming the fridge door shut. Beer bottle now in hand.

“Don’t call me a bitch, you asshole!” you scream. "Don't you dare drink that!"

JJ laughs at you. "God, it is adorable how you think I give a shit about anything you say to me."

"Oh, I'm so sorry that I actually give a shit about your health! Clearly you don't, snorting any fucking thing you can get your hands-on like some deadbeat junkie."

JJ isn't replying. Won't fight back. Drinking from his bottle like he can't even hear you. Makes you angrier. Say something, do something.

"Guess you're just living up to the family-traits though, huh? Like father like Goddamn son. No wonder your mom left you."

It takes you a moment to realise what made you stop shouting. What made your breath get caught halfway in your throat, heart thumping loudly in your ears. Then, your eyes are slowly drifting down to the floor, to the side of your feet.

Shards of the broken bottle are scattered on the floor. Beer drips down the wall, spills onto the floorboards, pools around the pieces of glass. The sound of shattering was so loud when it hit the wall. No wonder; it happened right by your ear. It was practically inches from your face.

The shock subsides enough to let tears come. You let out a shuddering breath as the reality hits that it could’ve hit you in the face. That could’ve been your face.

When your eyes come to focus again, moving to glance up into JJ’s, he looks just as shocked as you. Just as horrified.

“Baby…”

He starts towards you.

You hold up a hand, prompting him to stop, and take a wobbly step backwards.

“Don’t,” you rasp. You sound terrified. Half don't recognise your own voice.

That could’ve been your face.

“Baby, I didn’t mean to,” JJ whispers, his voice breaking. “I didn’t…I don’t know why I did that. I…”

Your eyes lower to the ground as your hand gradually falls limp by your side. You look to the glass and beer on the floor. How ironically poetic.

“What are we doing, JJ?”

“I don’t…I don’t know,” he hopelessly replies.

You shake your head. Eyes still fixated on the broken bottle. “I don’t…I don’t think this is love anymore, JJ.”

“Don’t say that,” JJ says.

“It can’t be,” you continue, ignorant to his pleas. JJ comes towards you once more and you shake your head, turning away from him before he can make a grab for your hands. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“I know,” he says.

His arms wrap around your waist. He hugs you against him, nestles his face in your hair, presses some kisses against your scalp. There’s the inconsistent drip of his tears.

“I’m sorry,” he’s mumbling into your hair. “I’m sorry. I won’t do that again. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to, okay? I’m so sorry, baby.”

But it’s too late, isn’t it?

Before it was words and that was torturous enough. It was painful when he’d say things to you that he knew would hurt, sure, but you’ve never been afraid of him before. But this, now…You can’t go back. You can’t ever go back from that. It’s with a terrifying thought and a fresh wave of tears that you come to the realisation that you’re scared of JJ. You’re scared of the only person who you’re supposed to find comfort and love in. How does that even happen to someone?

“I know you are,” you eventually say in reply to all his apologies.

JJ pauses, settling on pressing more kisses to your head, squeezing his arms around you tighter, closer, as if trying to stop you from slipping away. But a vase covered in cracks can’t hold water in. You push his arms off you and break yourself free from his hold.

“But I can’t do this anymore.”

He mumbles your name. When you don’t turn, heading to grab your jacket from the sofa, he says it again, loud and desperate. You know he’s crying. He’s sobbing. So are you.

“Please, please don't leave me.”

It hurts. It all just fucking hurts. You head for the door. Shake off his hand as it clasps around your wrist.

“Please, baby. We can make this right, okay? We can fix it. I can fix this. Just don't leave me.”

It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, walking out his door. In fact, you think a part of your soul dies a little as you do. Left haunting his house is the ghost of your past self that you’ll spend forever trying to find again.

You carefully inch your hand out of his touch and get up, walking to the sink, mug in hand. JJ’s sighing. You catch in the reflection of the window as he hangs his head, palms covering his face. Pouring the leftover coffee down the drain, you try and gather your thoughts and feelings. They all conclude into one.

“I think you should leave now, JJ,” you weakly announce.

Your eyes glance at the window's reflection in time to catch his head lift. Then, you’re looking back down into the sink. Remnants of coffee sit stagnant in the basin. More tears fall.

“What?”

“I really think you need to leave,” you repeat.

“Baby,” JJ says, getting up. He’s walking over to you and your heart sinks.

“Don’t call me that, JJ,” you tell him. But there’s no conviction in your tone. How can there be, when all you are is a crying, fragile mess.

“Baby, please,” he repeats, ignoring you once more. His arms are wrapping around your waist, hugging you against him. It's painful deja vu. You shake your hand and put down the coffee mug, moving to try and push his arms off you. It feels claustrophobic.

“Stop calling me that,” you whimper.

This all hurts so much. The knife is twisting and turning and driving deeper and deeper.

“I don’t want you to call me that anymore.”

“I don’t understand,” JJ says. “If we both miss each other then why can’t we just go back to how it was? I can make it up to you. I can be better, this time. I can get clean. I'll be sober for you. I'll do anything.”

Finally, you managed to break free from his hold. You turn around, placing an arm on his chest to maintain some distance. His hands are still open, as if waiting to catch you.

“That’s not that point, JJ,” you tell him.

“Then what is the point? Why is this so easy for you? I mean, did you ever love me at all? Why aren’t you as torn up about all of this like I am? Did you ever care?”

His tone is turning sour, just the way it used to during your fights. It all comes screaming back to you. The desperation and the battles and the pure exhaustion of trying to hold onto a handful of sand, that only will inevitably slip through your fingers. But it makes the emotions catch fire. Searing hot pain.

“Of course I did!” you burst, eyes wet and voice fire. JJ takes a small step back, startled. “Of course I loved you and of course I miss you! I miss all of it, okay? I miss the way we were and the way you used to look at me. I miss you when I go to sleep and I miss you when I wake up. But I can’t have you in my life anymore, JJ. All the shit that happened between us leaves a sour taste in my mouth, and I can’t erase the past like it didn’t happen. Even if we did move forward, the past is always going to be there. There’s no way to get rid of that!”

JJ’s sobbing, looking away from you. You realise that you’re crying too. Hard and heavy and can barely catch your breath.

“I mean, God, JJ. Do you know how selfish it is for you to be here right now?”

His head darts back to face you. Emotions a mess, you feel your forlorn expression morph into a demented smile. Through a tearful, self-deprecating laugh, you manage out:

“I was barely just holding it together. Barely just surviving, and then you come here and say all these things to me and have this assumption that what you want is what’s right. But it isn’t, for either of us.”

“But we could just—"

“No! We can’t be together again, JJ!”

Letting out a shuddering breath, you hear your words almost echo around the room. JJ’s staring at you. Both of you are heartbroken. What a pitiful, pathetic mess it has all become.

“We can’t, okay?” you repeat, voice softer. Anger gone.

JJ purses his lips and looks down at the floor. You watch as he nods, closing his eyes as he does, as if he’s admitted something to himself.

“Okay,” he whispers. Sniffs harshly. Wipes at his face. You do the same. “Okay.”

This isn’t how you want it to end. You don’t want him to walk out the door with this as his last memory of you. You can’t keep letting the season end on a bad episode. So, slowly, you reach out a hand to grab for one of his. His arms are hanging by his side, defeated. At the touch of your fingers, his instinctively wrap around yours, and he raises his head to look at you.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. The tears have now subsided, for the most part.

He gives a quivering smile. Bitter-sweet and painful. “Me too.”

He squeezes your hand in his. Now, there’s almost nothing. No zip of excitement or sooth of comfort, and no jolt of pain. Just…JJ.

“I don’t want you to hate me for—”

“I could never hate you,” you say, cutting him off. Smiling yourself, the expression a mirror-reflection of his, you nod. “There’s gonna be a part of me that’s always gonna love you, JayJ. You were my first everything, and that doesn’t go away. Ever. I’ll always be rooting for you and I’m always gonna care for you. But…I have to do it from a distance now, okay? It’s the only way either of us can move on with our lives.”

JJ swallows your words like one might swallow medicine. Unpleasant at the time but affirms a healthy future.

"I know," he nods. "I'm always gonna love you too."

You find yourself wrapping your arms around his neck. Holding him in a hug, tight and secure. His arms coil around your waist and he squeezes you back. The two of you know this will probably be the last time you ever embrace. Ever get to hold him, and him hold you. Neither of you wants to waste it, but neither of you wants to drag it out, in fear that they may never let go. As you pull away, JJ presses a brief, fleeting kiss to your cheek.

Standing in front of one another, once more, you remember the hurricane. The windows are rattling in their frames, rain battering down on them. It’s intense out there.

“You want me to stay?” JJ wonders softly.

You frown.

“I mean-” He gesture to the hurricane-induced storm outside. “I know how you hate them.”

You smile, eyes flitting down. Shaking your head, you sigh. “I need to face them on my own now, I think.”

JJ chuckles soberly. Nodding in understanding, he takes a step or two back. His hands slip into his pockets.

“Then…I guess I should leave.”

“Are you gonna be okay walking home?” you ask. You meant what you said: you’ll always care for him.

JJ nods, smiling brighter still. There’s still the shadow of pain that haunts the expression though.

“Yeah. You know me, I live on the edge.”

With his wink to accompany his sardonic words, you give a soggy laugh. JJ grants you a small wave and another smile. Your favourite smile. Your favourite person. Then, he’s turning around and walking himself to the front door. You hear the gust of wind battle into the house as he opens it, and the hearty slam as he forces it closed.

Standing stoic in the kitchen as if stupefied, you stare after him.

It’s done.

No more new memories. Only the old, to have and to hold, to care for and to cherish. Right now, they’re painful and visceral, but give it time, and they’ll be digestible. You can comb through them and smile and reminisce. Beneath almost every emotion is a tinge of happiness, be it grief or anger. Heartbreak will simply be the same.

Walking back to the living room, you cuddle up under a blanket on the sofa and snuggle against the cushions. Flicking the television back on, you sigh, sit, and continue watching your new show.

From inside the chateau, the windows rattle from a vicious blow of wind.

“What are you doing?” JJ snorts. His voice sounds like it’s come from the doorway.

You look up from the spot you’ve claimed on the floor, cocooned in a blanket. Your cheeks are wet from tears and JJ’s face becomes void of humour, instead morphing into concern.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he worries, quickly coming over to you.

“It’s dumb,” you sniffle.

JJ shakes his head as he lowers to his knees, wrapping you into his arms. “It's not dumb.”

“You don’t know what it is yet.”

“Well, even if it is dumb, I won’t love you any less. Just might judge you a little, is all.”

You gently batt at his stomach at his stupid joke, making him chuckle.

“What is it?” he asks again, shifting so he can look you in the eyes.

Your rolling your eyes at your ways when you answer. “I hate hurricanes. I guess I have a fear of them or whatever you wanna call it.”

“A fear?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, wiping your wet face.

JJ nods, humming in understanding. He glances around the room a moment and you find yourself inching closer to him for shelter. A flash of lightning shoots a dart of light in the room and you can’t withhold your pathetic, childlike whimper, closing your eyes. Then comes the doomsday thunder. It’s a short pause between the two; means it’s getting closer.

“Here,” JJ says, getting to his feet. He holds out a hand for you and helps you up. “I got an idea.”

“You do?” You say.

You tug the blanket around your shoulders like a shawl. JJ starts moving the sofas and furniture into a weird arrangement. You simply stand back and watch.

“My mamma used to do this for me,” JJ says through a grunt. “Whenever I was scared.”

“JJ Maybank? Scared?” You jest.

He rolls his eyes as he perfects the formation of the armchair, smiling. “Yeah, yeah. Hard to believe, I know.”

“What were you scared of?”

“The dark. And the monsters in my dad’s closet,” JJ replies. He’s now grabbing any blanket he can find.

“The monsters?” you repeat, humour clear in your voice.

“Hey, I didn’t make fun of your current fear of hurricanes, did I?” JJ warns, pointing at you.

You nod and hold your hands up in surrender. That’s fair. “So, what did your mamma used to do then?”

“She’d make me blanket forts,” he says. “To hide from the monsters and the dark.”

“A blanket fort?” you check, smiling.

He’s dragging a blanket over the sofas to make a shelter. You catch on and start to gather some of the throw pillows and couch cushions to make it cosy on the floor, whilst JJ finishes on the structure.

“Yeah. It’s like one of my favourite memories I have of her. She’d make them real cosy and then we’d watch a movie, and I’d be safe.”

When it’s all finished, JJ turns to you and grins. Gesturing proudly to his creation – bumpy as it is – you grin, giggling a little. “Ta da!”

“A Maybank tradition,” you say.

He climbs into the fort and settles on the cushions. The light from the lamp casts through the blanket to give the faintest glow. Holding out his hand, you take it with a laugh and move to sit beside him. He shifts you so you can lay with your head resting on his chest. His arm loops around your waist and you place a hand on his side. It’s quiet in here. The rainfall is barely audible and the thunder is muffled. It feels like its own world, safe from anything else. Safe with JJ.

He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“So, what’d ya think?”

“I think this might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever done, Maybank,” you reply, looking up at him.

JJ grins. “Just wait ‘til we get that gold. The blanket forts are gonna be insane.”

You laugh and shake your head. JJ falls into an extravagant daydream of the forts he’ll build for you: with drawbridges and dragons and all sorts of ridiculous crap, that you know he’s only spewing because it’ll get a laugh out of you. Settling against his chest, feeling the rumble of his voice and shaking of his laughs through his t-shirt, you smile. What a sweetly clandestine memory to share.

#jj #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #obx #obx fic #outer banks #outerbanks #outer banks fic #outerbanks fic #jj angst #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x reader angst #jj x reader angst #obx angst #obx preferences

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turtlevariabilis · 8 months ago

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My story with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

[Español]

When I graduated from preschool, I was gifted the class pet: a red-eared slider turtle (now almost 20 years old and even has a similar companion). From that moment on, turtles have become part of my identity. If someone asked me about my favorite animal, of course I would say turtles. They are very interesting animals that do interact with each other and with humans; they have an enviable perseverance, enormous curiosity, and ninja-like abilities (they are fast, silent, and enjoy climbing, to throw themselves and performing some really strange acrobatics).

Well, today I'd rather tell you my story with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and how I came to be part of this fandom. It's actually a somewhat long story, but it has some funny details, and it's a way for you to get to know me a little better.

So, since turtles have always been a part of my life, it should have been natural for me to encounter the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles from a very young age, so I got to know them through the tmnt 2003 version. And yes, of course, they appeared on television and I was curious about protagonists being turtles... but the series didn't resonate with me.

When you're young, what you need are stories that you can somehow identify with, which is why the best stories will always be the ones that are most diverse in every possible way. And of course, any version of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is already a statement towards accepting what's different, promoting diversity. But this wasn't enough for me back then.

I was a girl who wanted to see girly things, shows with interesting female characters. And honestly, from what little I had seen of tmnt 2003 (maybe just a few scenes from an episode), I only spotted male characters except for April, who was an adult (so I preferred to watch Teen Titans). However, I already had my favorite turtle identified: the one with the purple mask, simply because it was my favorite color; funny how that hasn't changed.

When I was almost the age of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, the tmnt 2012 series premiered on Nickelodeon. It didn't catch my attention either. However, my sister L, almost three years younger than me, insisted that I watch it. So I did... and I guess I loved it. Because that's how my story with the Ninja Turtles began. That's how I met them.

My sister L and I were always on the lookout for when the series aired on TV; we literally ran to watch it, to make sure we didn't miss anything. And I confirmed that my favorite turtle was Donnie, but I actually loved them all.

A few years later, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie (2014) was released... I couldn't see it in theaters, but I was very excited about it, even though I knew it had nothing to do with the tmnt 2012 version (which I was very hooked on), and that's why I was a little disappointed. Plus, I hated how they sexualized April.

So yeah... you could say I was obsessed with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and although I hadn't realized to what extent, my parents and my two sisters did, so my 16th birthday party (just with these people) was themed around it as a surprise. They inflated green balloons, hung them up, and put on masks in the corresponding colors, and we ate pizza. They put a mini 2012 Donatello toy on my cake, which I still have. Now that I think about it, it was an intimate and very nice party... however, I don't like to show my tastes, so at that moment I did feel uncomfortable and dared to express that I would have preferred a normal party, instead of expressing how incredible it was, because it really was incredible. (What can I say? Although I have always been well-behaved and never caused any problems of any kind, I was also a teenager).

At that time, I was still following the tmnt 2012 series, and I used the internet to keep up with each new episode. I reached a point where I became impatient and had to watch the episodes as soon as they premiered, meaning I had to hurry to watch them on YouTube before the videos were taken down, even if that meant watching them in English and in poor quality.

I had a terrible level of English and I hardly understood anything. But doing this greatly improved my level, and I also started to take my English classes at school seriously to understand the episodes. Without exaggeration, everything I know about English is thanks to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Nowadays, I have a very solid intermediate level, and I still continue to improve thanks to them.

Still in that level of obsession with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I obviously searched for more on the internet, on YouTube specifically. In one of those many videos I watched, scenes from the tmnt 2007 version caught my attention. That rivalry, that epic battle between Leo and Raph, captivated me. So I watched that movie, and although I didn't find it good overall for several reasons, I was deeply moved by the story between the brothers.

But let's go back to the tmnt 2012 version. The ending of the third season was one of the most shocking endings I've ever seen. And when the fourth season premiered and the turtles were in space... that's exactly when I lost interest. And I really don't know why, since I really like science fiction and everything related to the universe. Maybe it was because I stopped understanding what was happening (remember I was watching the episodes in English). I don't know.

After that, from time to time, I would feel nostalgic and curious about this series, so I would watch a random episode here and there (in general, I'm not good at watching series; I'm capable of watching only the episodes that catch my attention, sacrificing understanding the overall plot). And when I found out it ended, I looked for the last three episodes of the fifth season... and they left me feeling really bad with that dystopian, hopeless, but realistic ending. It's horrible, but I guess that's what I liked the most. Let's admit it, we all like to be masochists.

Later, I sort of saw that a new version had been released with colors too vibrant for my taste and a 2D animation with too much hyperactivity that didn't catch my attention. Yes, I'm talking about the rottmnt version, released in 2018. Nowadays, you don't know how much I regret not paying attention to it.

Years passed and 2023 arrived. At the beginning of that year, I realized that we had Paramount+, and that meant that the tmnt 2012 series, in Spanish, was complete. And my younger sister R hadn't been able to watch it because she had been too young at the time. So I felt like introducing it to her, and that way I could watch the entire series in the right way.

It was like watching a marathon: we finished it all in less than two months, despite our various commitments (she had school and I had work, making it very difficult to coordinate schedules). Suddenly, my obsession returned, very intense. It was the only time that I've had the same obsession in two very different stages of my life. But I still wasn't open to discovering new versions.

(You're going to laugh at what happened next).

My sister L, the one who initially introduced me to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, seeing how much I enjoyed reconnecting with them, insisted that I watch the movie of the rottmnt version, which was on Netflix; she said it was very intense and good, well worth it, but that I had to watch it with an open mind because it had many radical changes.

Much to my dismay, very resistant and with my mind as closed as possible, I watched this movie. And yes, it was very intense and all, but I concluded that I didn't like it. I didn't feel like those were my turtles. Despite that, I watched it again... and then again and again. It's like the character of Donnie caught my attention a bit. It's like the animation wasn't as bad as I had initially thought. It's like the intensity they conveyed was starting to appeal to me. It's like it was somewhat entertaining. It's like I was starting to like the characters a bit and was beginning to identify and even understand them.

And suddenly, even though I kept insisting to myself that I didn't like this new version, I started watching some random episodes of the series... until I began watching them in order... and then I would rewatch some episodes that I had liked... I mean, it's just that there was no one to stop me and I had to stop fooling myself! The rottmnt version had many different things, but it was very well-crafted and very good. Of course, I loved it! And currently, for me, it undoubtedly surpasses the tmnt 2012 version by many reasons that I won't comment on this text.

When the official content of rottmnt ran out, I needed more. So I searched on the internet... and suddenly I got caught up in some fan-made comics... and then I found myself on Tumblr... and then I started to become interested in more versions and began watching them (like the first season of tmnt 1987, some episodes of tmnt 2003, I watched the tmnt 2007 movie again as well as Batman vs. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, which I didn't mention, but I had seen before because I had a certain period in my life when I loved Batman).

And all of that was at the beginning of the year 2023, because then the trailer for the movie Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem appeared, which was going to be released in a few months. I had no idea that a new version was coming out that year, and it came just in time to keep increasing my fan skills. Of course, I went to see it in the cinema and loved it, although rottmnt is still my favorite version.

And nowadays, in 2024, I still feel like one of my central thoughts is the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and I want to keep learning more about them, both the old versions and the new ones that are coming. And I really look forward to continuing to contribute my bit to the fandom with this account. Hopefully, this will also be the year when I can finally watch tmnt 2003 properly.

And it's funny, because suddenly I know many references from many versions and I love that, although I know I have a lot to catch up on. For now, I've never stepped into the realm of comics, and I still don't know if I ever will.

Because I'm just a fan, and those of us who are fans of something should be so on our own terms, without the pressure of anything or anyone.

I've run out of words and I don't know how to conclude this text, but if you've made it this far, wow, I'm impressed! I send you lots of greetings and good vibes, just as Mondo Gecko would say.

•💜•

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devilheartsblog · 1 month ago

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Here’s my very delayed World of Winx Season 2 review

Ok so it’s been like a few weeks since I watched it so I won’t have too many complaints, I’ll just list the major ones I have.

Firstly the episodes were super boring and felt dragged out. In season 1 the side plot of finding the talents was entertaining and honestly I miss the WoW show as it was fun and Ace despite being a dick, was neat. Now there’s this Neverland bullshit which makes even less sense with Captain Hook’s mega forehead and Peter Pan actually growing up, or implied to. And the Evil Queen being Tinkerbelle feels wrong especially with the romance with Matt (Peter Pan’s son)

Now, the Nemesis. Most of them were disappointing and the worst offender was Bloom’s. I didn’t vibe with the clown aesthetic. Despite being the worst one at least her creation made sense, with the shadows stealing part of her magic to corrupt. The other Nemesis just…spawn. Otherwise Virus and Banshee were my favorites and Eclipsa was alright. I liked Stella’s backstory but it contradicts things like them being on Earth for a few months. Sinka also felt she should have come before Matt’s character growth. Speaking of Matt…

I was expecting to absolutely hate him but no Sky is still the worst by a long shot. Matt is very annoying with his “I’m know more than you” attitude when he a LOSER, but at least everyone hates him for it until he gets turned to stone. Other than that I enjoyed his character and how he’s incorporated into the Winx group like when they disguise as art enthusiasts. He’s also one of the only non-villain dudes in the series to use magic, yay! However, the fact he suddenly gets better at sword fighting by acquiring a fairy blade despite pro warrior Tiger Lily saying he sucks ass at it is just plot convenient, I instead prefer his deception and acting skills which do come back when he deceives the mermaids. Another is I wish Matt got involved in Hook’s defeat, like some on. He made a great point about trusting Hook and Hook’s the one who sent Smee to kidnap him.

The Winx are alright eh, I mean, I wasn’t invested in any of them and they don’t have any story going on, they just stole Anabelle’s dream of being performers and this hot lady named Venomya hates them, and omg just bring Ace back please. The WoW show was fun as Bloom had arguments with Ace but now she and the others have near nothing as Venomya isn’t important until the very end. Onyrix isn’t really better than Dreamix, I can’t decide which one’s worse, but yeah they get it out of nowhere, at least let the Forest Spirit gift it to them it have them earn Onyrix after defeating their Nemesis smh. I’m also not sure what Onyrix does like…what’s the point?

Anyway let’s get to the villains now, starting with Jim and Smee. He’s on the Winx’s side but for the majority of the plot he’s not involved in anything, just tells Smee to kidnap Matt twice and that’s about it. He could have done like Valtor where he directly involves himself but nooooo, forget the Switzerland stuff, he’ll not do anything until the end. Smee is also a terrible comedic relief. However, I love Smee. The fact he was painted as the villain by Hook despite following his orders and was ultimately the one to take Jim down and save Neverland, MUAH, perfect. Onto not perfect, Tinkerbelle. So her whole motive was Peter Pan liked Wendy instead of her and now she mad I guess, then she falls in love with Matt and suddenly she’s…good..now? I mean, yeah that’s, Winx should just stick to one-dimensional villains. Not to mention her youtuber ass “I have made a severe and continuous lapse in judgement” ass apology, like I like that she acknowledges she treated the Neverland people horribly but don’t add “please forgive me” at the end it really shows her priorities. Another villain I like is Shaman. He’s the Shaman! He sounds like if Jack Black stuffed himself with brownies and got sleepy! Him being by Tinkerbelle’s side after she got weakened and even trying to save her and talking some sense in Tiger Lily made me wish he ended with Tinkerbelle instead of Matt.

And yeah the fact Tinkerbelle ends up with Matt, aka Peter Pan’s son, when her whole motive for being evil is Peter Pan didn’t love her………need I saw more? It’s just wrong. She should make out with the Shaman.

Anyway onto some other characters. I loved the zombie pirates in their spotlight episode but they went back to being evil kinda and don’t correct their mistake like Tiger Lily, so rip I enjoyed them a lot, and I miss the wizards. The sirens were annoying as FUCK. I only like their human designs augh. Alligator man was eh alright? He looks more like a crocodile and Crocodile man looks like an alligator. I wish they’d talk even if it was a Knut impression, it’d make their significance more meaningful.

And lastly, the plot twist in the final episode where Venomya’s a witch, Baba Yaga and got an old ashy granny design. God, the whiplash I got, I was so upset because the best part, aka her design, was not just an illusion Mrs Baba Yaga used. Bruuuh 😭. The idea of Witches being rivals with fairies is interesting but eh I don’t think we’re getting a season 3 anytime soon so yeah. Maybe they’d have introduced the Trix so maybe that was a bullet we dodged? The Trix are so overused. Anyways the ending was alright but that cliffhanger and Venomya being a granny ruined it.

That’s all I have to say. I’m getting a wicked headache and I’ll see you guys on the flipside.

#sry this is super long again but there’s just a lot I have to question and complain about #i almost forgot about the winx and venomya while writing more than halfway through #winx #winx club #world of winx #winx rant #txt #txt post #review #show review #writers on tumblr #artists on tumblr

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monebula-art · 11 months ago

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SPOILER MENTION FOR YYH LIVE ACTION

Positivity post about the new live action but it does contain some spoiler mentions as I rant 💜

Okay listen— I understand the Yyh live action felt a little speed-run and rushed. I understand that certain comedic and character build moments were lost because of it. But imagine you’re the you of 20 Years ago, and you’re watching this for the first time.

I cried during the scene with Keiko and Atsuko— I cried when Yusuke is holding the beam to save Keiko.

I loved how they added Keiko INTO the story as an actual motivation and element of Yusuke’s moral compass. I loved that Kuwabara became involved and interested in Yusuke’s life after his return and I love how they became friends who did things together! I loved his enthusiasm and worry for Yusuke and insistence upon being his rival.

I loved Kurama’s cool and collected acting, but how his care was so obviously simmering beneath the surface of his calm. It’s exactly what I’d expect of Kurama.

Hiei was, as a Hiei lover? Perfect, I didn’t like him quite at first but then he SPOKE and I was hooked. His voice and brutal style of fighting but EVERYTHING he does is for the sake of his sister and his concern for her— and eventually his concern for the other team members as well. I know we didn’t get as many comedic moments as was experienced in a 56 episode 2 season of series like in the original but that’s kinda to be expected? And we got a lot!

Honestly Yusuke’s flying kick at Kuwabara made me choke on my drink, the fight with Gouki was kinda amusing though I did miss the ‘Of course I heard you I’m just stupid’ line.

I enjoyed the banter between Yusuke and Kuwabara and I loved how Kuwabara’s concern for his friends and feeling in adequate in protecting them was his driving force!

The entire training montage with Genkai was AMAZING and fighting her was so funny she was running this boy in circles and I was living for it. God what a legend.

The scenes at the end on the boat where Hiei strolls up and tells Kuwabara to stop talking to Yukina, Kurama getting in between them felt so FAMILIAR and good!

The scene where Toguro comes to her is different and yet so very much the same as in the anime. The dialogue is exactly the same but delivered in this quiet and intimidating and intimate setting. I know we lost out on a lot of the context for it so the scene at the end where they part ways isn’t as impactful— I get that. But we the FANS know the context, so I was absolutely enthralled and bawling at how beautiful it was.

Hiei’s scene with Yukina!!!! I didn’t think they would do me like that but they DID and I was SCREAMING we were SO CLOSE.

Ugh. I loved it. Was it ‘perfect’ as in a perfect 1-1 adaptation? No. Some emotional elements were lacking because of the rush. I’ll admit that.

But was it perfect? Made me happy, perfectly nostalgic as a 20 year fangirl of this series??? Abso FUCKING lutely.

#yu yu hakusho live action #yyh live action #yu yu hakusho

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kyberblade · 1 year ago

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Back To You (Din x Reader) - Part 17

A/N: This is a heavy one! I channeled my own feelings heavily near the end and I have no regrets. I said what I said. But there is also an inordinate amount of fluff, so…. Do with that what you will. We’re coming up on the end. 😔 Just a handful of chapters left. But don’t worry! I still have allllll sorts of shenanigans planned for these three in the sequels that will follow shortly, so we won’t be without them for long. 😁 I can’t believe we’ve come this far! 🥹 I’m so sorry this chapter took me so long, I was avoiding it because…. Well…. You’ll see. (Also, once again, there is some lore in this that @writerlyhabits wrote in a fantastic short, and I loved it so much, I asked if I could use it.)

(This takes place right where the other one left off and goes to the end of episode 2x6/14, The Tragedy.)

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Swearing. Space swearing. Grogu is a menace. Arguing? Mando’a. Show dialogue, so spoilers? (But if you’re here, you know how this works.) Lots of angst. Tears. Some canon divergence that has been planned from day one. And I’ve been told to add “emotional damage” as a warning by my beta. 😂🤣 (I’ve read over this so many times, but I’m sure I’ve missed something in the typo department. Any mistakes are my own.)

Word count: 15,303 (I said what I said.)

As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.

Thank you to @fordo-kixed-rex for your endless hours helping me over goodness knows how long since I started this, for going over the probably 75 iterations of this chapter this past week alone, and for reading this over for me and letting me know I’m not crazy.

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Xxx

You woke up on the Crest, stretching as much as you could in the tiny bunk compartment. The lights were set to dim, giving you just enough light to see in the small area. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw you were alone, no beskar to keep you company. A quick look up showed the hammock empty as well.

Furrowing your brows, you pushed up onto your palms, leaning on them heavily as you tried to fully wake up. Wiggling your fingers, you smiled, the plush feel of the new bed roll beneath you bringing back thoughts of a grumbling Din lugging it onto the Crest before you left Coruscant a little over a day ago.

“I told you I would, didn’t I?” He mumbled, pulling the old mat out as he threw the new one into the bunk, the soft thud it made on impact an anticlimactic end to his brief tantrum.

“You did,” hands on your hips, you mused quietly with a nod, watching as he slit the straps keeping it bound tight with a knife he kept in his boot.

“Now what do we do with the….” Turning, Din sighed when he found Grogu sitting on the old bed roll, cooing happily. “….old one.”

“Is it really such a bad thing that the Crest has a little more padding?” You asked carefully, leaning toward him slightly. The tilt of his helmet was not amused. “I mean, we do have some bumpy landings….”

Din simply stared at you for a long moment, in which you tried not to break, a smile fighting desperately to crawl up your face and reflect in his visor. In the end, you won, when he turned away before you cracked, stomping up the ladder and into the cockpit.

Scooping up the child, you began that way as well. “Come on, kid. We have places to go.” The engines roared to life. “Jedi to meet.” You set him on the floor of the cockpit when you were high enough on the ladder before pulling yourself the rest of the way up. “Seeing stones to…. See.”

Din snorted. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“What?” You plopped into your seat, watching the child scramble up into his.

“Very eloquently put.”

You scoffed. “I’d like to see you do better.”

“When the time comes, I will.”

“No, now.”

He huffed out a laugh. “I’m not going after that. ‘Seeing stone to…. See.’ Come on.” He shook his head in amusement, going about the rest of the take off sequence.

“It's because you're afraid. Can’t top that, can you?” Smiling smugly, you fastened the safety belt.

“It’s only up from here,” he mused quietly, making you freeze and glare at the back of his head as he began to lift the ship up off the ground.

Grogu giggled from his seat, letting out a squeal as he clapped his hands.

“I feel ganged up on,” you grumbled, slumping back in your seat, arms crossed over your chest.

“Then have better jokes.”

Narrowing your eyes at the back of his helmet, you could just see his shoulders shaking gently from suppressed laughter. “Watch it, Tin Can.”

Making your way to the ladder leading to the cockpit, you smiled at the muted sound of Din’s voice drifting down through the hatch, Grogu’s soft coos dotted here and there.

Pausing at the bottom, one hand resting on a rung by your head, you waited and listened.

“Grogu.” Din’s modulated voice was the lightest you’d heard in a while. It lilted slightly like he was almost playing with the child.

The kid must have looked up, making Din chuckle before another moment passed and he said the name again with even more mirth to his tone. “Grogu?”

Another soft laugh came from the Mandalorian, Grogu babbling softly for a moment before Din started in again. “Give me the ball.” The kid made a sound of refusal, the rustling of fabric telling you he twisted away, pulling it from his guardian. “Grogu, give me the ball. Come on.” In the silence that followed, a quiet, pleased grunt came from Din when Grogu must have handed it to him. You could clearly picture the man in beskar holding it up teasingly just out of the kids reach. Suppressing a chuckle with a roll of your eyes, but unable to stop the smirk crawling up your face, you leaned your temple against the back of your hand on the ladder rung. “Okay, here we go. You can have it, just like before. Grogu, come on. You can have it. Come on.” A moment of silence before a louder, almost excited, “Dank farrik!”

Your eyes went wide, the child letting out a startled squawk, and you started to scramble up the ladder, stopping below the lip of the hatch, just out of sight, when Din began to backtrack. “Hey, no. I’m not mad at you. You did good.” He sighed heavily, his voice quieting. “I just…. When the nice lady said you had training, I just….”

When he sighed again, you climbed the last few rungs to peek over the edge of the opening, watching the scene unfold.

Din was looking at Grogu from the pilot’s chair, gently handing him back his silver ball from where it sat in the child’s lap. “You’re very special, kid. We’re gonna find that place you belong and they’re gonna take real good care of you.”

As he slowly turned back to look out the viewport, you smiled sadly. It wasn’t what he had said, it’s what he hadn’t. The implied meaning behind his words of the kid belonging anywhere other than with him…. And that he truly believed it, too. At least on some level. No matter how many times you told him the kid looked at him like he was the world, whatever was speaking right now was louder, and the voice Din ended up listening to in the end. You wanted to wrap that voice up with your whipcord and throw it out the back of the ship on the next backwater planet you landed on. You could do that now. Din had finally showed you how it worked.

“This is Tython,” he went on, obviously avoiding the subject. You set your forehead against the back of your hand on the top rung of the ladder, listening as he continued. “That’s where we’re gonna try and find you a Jedi. But you have to agree to go with them if they want you to. Understand?” Lifting up just enough to watch them again, you saw the child looking up at Din curiously, still fumbling his ball distractedly as he listened. The Mandalorian was still looking out the viewport pointedly, keeping his face forward, his shoulders tense. “Plus, I can’t train you. You’re too powerful. Don’t you wanna learn more of that Jedi stuff?”

That made your gut sink. You knew he needed a real Jedi, which you were not, but it still stung every time. You’d meditated with the kid, bonded, had conversations of sorts, and the thought of that just…. Going away…. Hurt. Swiping at an unexpected tear as it fell, you turned your attention back on your two favorite beings in the galaxy.

“I agreed to take you back to your own kind, so that’s what I need to do. You understand, right?”

Making your presence known by taking the last few rungs of the ladder with heavy footfalls, you climbed the rest of the way up into the cockpit, watching as Din’s shoulders relaxed a bit, but his head sat up straighter. Stepping up behind his chair, you set a hand on his shoulder.

Keeping your voice soft, you smiled fondly down at him as you spoke. “Who are you trying to convince, him or yourself?”

He didn’t answer.

Giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, you changed the subject. “Did you get any sleep?”

Din nodded. “I did.”

“How much? We haven’t been flying that long….”

After a moment of silence he finally said, “Enough.”

Sensing the exchange between him and Grogu still hanging over his head, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to rest on his chestplate, and setting your chin on his pauldron. Turning to look at him as best you could this close, you spoke lowly close to his ear. “Well, I slept great. Thank you for the new bed roll.”

He nodded, but you felt him relaxing under your touch, so you went on. “I appreciate you, you know that, right?” His head turned just slightly to try and look at you, but you were too close, so he took a hand off the controls and brought it up to gently grab your wrists, slowly moving his thumb back and forth in absent patterns on your skin.

“Whatever ends up happening with the kid, will be because of you, Din.” His thumb slowed for a second before resuming its pace. “You got him out, you’ve taken care of him, he’s learned from you. Already. No matter how powerful.”

You went to stand up, but his grip on your wrists tightened, holding you to him. Smiling, you cinched your arms a little bit tighter as you sighed, turning your face more into his neck.

“No matter what happens with him, whatever he becomes…. It will all be because of you. It all comes back to you.”

Xxx

Scrubbing at you vambrace, you sat in the main hull, the dull beeps of the Crest as it orbited Tython the only sound.

Grogu had decided that a particularly messy ration pack was his next victim, and when you’d tried to wrestle it out of his grip, the sludge had poured down the beskar protecting your forearm. Clambering down the ladder, you’d dashed to the refresher to rinse your glove of the goo, hanging it on a hook to let the leather dry.

Now you sighed as you got back to your feet from the crate you were perched atop, trudging back into the refresher and slouching over the sink as you rinsed the metal off as best you could, wiping it down thoroughly with a cloth you’d found in a toolbox near the crate and dampened with water.

“Everything come off?”

You startled at the voice, shooting up straight to your full height, your head thumping on a low hanging cabinet in the cramped space.

Rubbing it with a wince, you glared at your beskar companion’s reflection in the mirror as he leaned on the door frame easily, arms crossed over his chest as if nothing had happened.

“Don’t do that,” you hissed. “How many times do I have to-”

“At least a few more,” he mumbled in amusement, shifting his weight as he adjusted where his shoulder leaned into the frame. “Everything-”

“Yeah, it’s all coming off,” you groused, turning your attention back to scrub at the vambrace with extra vengeance. “At least it wasn’t something with jogan fruit in it. Then I would have to paint these,” you teased, smirking. “Have you ever met a purple Mando?”

“There’s a first for everything,” he shrugged, his voice easy, almost lazy.

“Hmmm,” you narrowed your eyes at him in amusement. “But then I wouldn’t match you. How would that make you feel?” Grabbing the scarf Vanth had given you on Tatooine out of your back pocket to dry off the armor, you turned to face Din, a smirk climbing your face. “Admit it. You like people knowing we’re-”

“We’re what?” He cut in, angling his head down to hold your gaze as you stepped up as close to him as you could, the rest of him as still as a statue.

Looking up into his visor, you tilted your head slightly, the smile not going anywhere as you whispered, “You know.”

“I do,” he agreed, nodding before tilting his head to the side to match yours and holding your gaze again. “Do you?”

Eyes flitting back and forth on his visor, head hinged back to keep looking at him, you paused. “A group.”

“A…. A group,” he repeated after a moment, hesitantly, something sarcastic in his voice.

“Yeah. Right?”

Gently shaking his head at you after a moment, he pushed off the frame and turned back toward the hatch.

Grabbing your glove, you followed after him. “What?”

“This isn’t working for me,” he said with a sigh.

“Well maybe you aren’t working for me.”

Din rounded on you, staring at you for a long moment before he grabbed your wrist, spinning you into the ladder up to the cockpit, and crowding you into the bars until you had nowhere to go; nowhere to look but up at him, your head angled back until it thumped lightly on one of the rungs.

“Is that so?”

Leaning your head further back so you could look down your nose at him, you narrowed your eyes. “Maybe it is. Why don’t you try and find out, oh wise and brilliant Mandalorian?”

“Mmmmm….” The sound vibrated from his chest and into yours, sending a pleasant hum just under your skin from your head down to your toes. “Why do you make everything so….”

“Interesting?”

“Difficult.” His left hand came to rest on your hip, sliding around to rest on your lower back, his right still clutching the ladder up by your head, his grip adjusting slightly making the leather of his glove creak in protest.

You laughed softly. “Because otherwise our lives would be very boring,” you teased, reaching out to place your palm on his chest plate, slowly moving it up to wind into his cowl like you always did. Still gripping your vambrace and glove in your left hand, that arm snaked around his neck to pull him closer by your forearm.

When his forehead softly came to rest against yours, you both sighed, shoulders relaxing as your bodies deflated slightly, melting into the other’s warmth. The hand by your head came to rest on you cheek but quickly wound around behind your neck, threading into your hair.

“I came down here to tell you we’re about to start the landing procedure,” his voice was tight, like he really wanted to be saying something else. “But you distracted me.”

You chuckled softly. “So sorry.”

He tugged your hair gently, leaning back just enough to look you in the eyes. “Behave.”

Eyes dancing across the T of his visor, you felt the smile climbing back onto your face. “Of course.”

“I’m serious. This is for the kid. He needs- We need to find his kind.”

The rigidity was coming back into his shoulders, so you tossed the vambrace and glove to the floor, pulling his attention down toward them. He began to ask what you were doing when you placed both hands on the sides of his helmet and made him focus back on you.

“Din. Listen to me. He’s going to be okay. You are going to be okay. This will work.”

He only nodded, a small sigh leaving his chest when you pulled his head back to yours, settling your foreheads together once again.

“Just breathe. It’ll work out. You’ll see.”

His arms around your back and neck pulled you tighter.

“I’m always right. Remember?”

He snorted out a laugh. “Yeah. Sure. Now come on, I left the kid alone in the cockpit before you distracted me. I’m surprised the ship is still in orbit and not careening toward the surface already.”

Xxx

Speeding over the surface of the planet, you watched the green of shrubs and towering red rocks whizz by.

“Looks deserted,” you mumbled, surveying the vast sea of nothingness. If this had once been a sacred place for Jedi, it was long, long ago. Long enough for an age to grow over, covering everything in layers of dust, for plants to spread and conceal any remnants of life. “Sort of reminds me of Arvala-7.”

“Better for us,” Din mused softly, pointing at a distant mountain as the Crest approached. “Looks like that’s the magic rock I’m supposed to take you to down there.”

Grogu looked through one of the lower set windows as the ship flew over, letting out a lilting sound of awe that made you smile.

“Sorry, buddy. I can’t land on the top. Too small. Looks like we’re gonna have to travel the last stretch with the windows down.”

“With the….”

“Jet pack.”

Leaning back in your chair with your arms crossed over your chest, eyes on the profile of his visor, unamused, you stared as he turned to look at you before fiddling with the panel at his side. After a moment you mumbled, “How you still have a cape is beyond me. It should have been incinerated by your jet pack or an angry Jawa long ago.”

“It’s woven with beskar thread.”

Hesitation filled the air, a quiet pause in the conversation before you asked, “Really?” It was just absurd enough that a small part of you believed him. Very small.

Din turned to look at you fully, his voice flat and heavily sarcastic as he tucked his chin to his chest, peering at you through the top of his visor. “What do you think?”

Realization dawned on you faster than a fathier, your face melting into annoyance. “I think you’re a pain in my ass.”

Spinning back to face the viewport with a flourish, his hands in the air after an exaggerated shove against his thighs as if it took all his effort before they came to rest softly back on the control panel, his head tilted just so. “Well good, because that’s what I was going for.”

Glaring at the back of his head, you sunk further into your chair with a huff. “Just get this ship on the ground so I can roll my eyes and walk dramatically away from you as nature intended.”

With a flick of a switch, he’d turned on autopilot, the landing sequence beginning on its own. Din turned back to face you again with another small flourish, spinning in his chair just slightly before stopping himself with his other hand, making you smile softly. It reminded you of the kid. “You’re not going to go up there with us?”

Shaking your head, you sat up straight in your chair again, stretching as you started talking. “No, I need to clean up some things here on the ship.” Relaxing back into the seat, you tucked your legs up close to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, and setting your chin on your knees while you went on. “Some old crates of rations expired and need to be tossed before they go rancid. They’ll either start to smell or the kid will eat one and he’ll get sick and that will smell.” Din chuckled at the sour expression on your face. “I don’t like either option.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. I can turn on the camera in my helmet and you can watch on the holopad. Stay in communication on our comms.”

That made you sit up straighter just a bit. “You have a camera….? What can’t your armor do?”

He huffed in amusement. “Well, without me in it, it’s useless.” As he sat back in his chair, one hand propped on his thigh, the other lazily on the arm rest, hand dangling off the end without a care, you snorted a laugh as you noticed his chest puff up a bit.

Your head lolled to the side, temple resting against your left knee. “Why did I ask?”

Din simply glossed over your jab, shifting his weight slightly. “So we’ll wait. You take care of the crates, then-”

“No, Din.” Picking your head up to look at him straight on, you lowered your feet to the floor and sat forward, bracing your elbows on your knees and resting a hand on his knee. “Like you said, the kid needs this. I’m fine. I also wanted to check on something on the ship.”

That got his attention. He sat up straighter, his chest deflating as he mimicked your posture, leaning closer to you. “Check on what? She’s running just fine since Nevarro.”

You looked down to the side, patting his knee twice before tentatively explaining, “When they were doing the repairs, you were eating the fruit and I was turned around…. I saw one of them acting…. Shady. I completely forgot about it in everything that happened after, but I want to check out the panels I saw them working on and just give it a once over. Make sure we’re not going to explode on our seventy fifth jump to hyperspace or something.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I’m sure it’s fine, but go ahead. Those mechanics were probably just nervous to be working on my ship. I made a…. Let’s just say a name for myself last time I left Nevarro.”

With a huff of laughter you leaned back in your chair, looking at him with a lazy tilt of your head. “So I heard.”

Din groaned as he once again mirrored you, leaning back in his chair, his head hitting the rest with a thump. “What did Karga tell you?”

“Nothing. You did.”

His visor snapped down to meet your cocked brow in question. “I did?”

You looked at him incredulously. “Yeah, it was one of the first things after I got on the Crest. You don’t remember?”

He sighed as his head lolled back against the chair again. “I’ve told you a lot of things. I guess it’s gotten lost in the mountain of others.”

That made you pause. “Do you not tell other people these things?”

Din spun back around to face the console. “I don’t tell other people much of anything.”

“Neither do I.”

“Patu.” Din looked over his right shoulder at the kid, shaking his head gently after a moment. You smiled as you looked at the little green face staring back with wide eyes. It was clear what he had meant. Neither do I.

Xxx

You unloaded boxes while Din flew the kid up to the top of the hill with the structure. Looking at the holo projection as Grogu screeched with glee, you saw Din’s visor angle down to the little green ward in his arms, the widest grin you’d ever seen on his face.

Carrying the holopad with you down the ramp and toward the hatch the workers had been stationed under on Nevarro, you felt a matching smile climbing your face at the infectious joy radiating off the kid.

After you set the pad near the landing gear of the ship on the ground, you pried the panel off and gave it a cursory glance for anything out of place.

“Hey, Din? Is there supposed to be a coupling by that bundle of wires closest to the landing gear?”

“No?” He answered after a moment. “Keep the panel open, I’ll be right there to look-”

You stood up straight. “No! No. Take care of the kid, I’ve got this.” Right? Right. It was just a patch job, something they used because they ran out of the necessary parts. “All you would do is take it off and look at it, and that’s all I’m going to do.”

“What if it explodes? I have armor-”

Sputtering, you stopped that train of thought immediately. “It’s not going to explode, stop it. Go.”

Din sighed. “Okay. But be careful.”

“I will. I’ll remove it then set it over with the crates I offloaded. They are way across the clearing. One of them broke when I lifted it and they are definitely bad already.” A shudder ran down your spine as you remembered the rancid smell of the expired packets. Pushing it as far away as you could in favor of more pleasant thoughts, you focused back on the device in your hand. Well, maybe not more pleasant, you thought with a grimace. “That way if it explodes or anything, it’ll be as far away from the Crest as possible.”

“What color was it?”

If Din could see your face right now, he’d make some joke about the comical twist of confusion screwing up your features. Is he asking about the ration packs? “What?”

“The coupling. What color?”

Oh. Of course. Why would he be asking about the- You shook your head. “Metal, like the rest of the interior of the ship.”

He huffed. “No, the light. The blinking light on the top.”

You froze. Staring at the light as it blinked lazily, you began to sweat and swallowed roughly. You hadn't mentioned that. “It went between red and green alternating.” Looking up and across the field at the crates of expired rations longingly, you wished for five minutes ago when the world was simpler, the worst problem to deal with some stinky food.

“Dank farrik!” Din’s voice hissed over the holopad, making you wince before it lowered back down to nothing but business. “Was it ever blue?”

Looking down to the part in your hand, your stomach sank as it flashed blue in your palm. “Yeah.”

Din sighed. “It’s a tracker.” You faintly registered what he was saying, but the word tracker kept echoing around your head on a loop, almost in tandem with the blinking of its light. “It’s not going to explode or anything, at least it shouldn’t, but it still wouldn’t hurt to get it as far away from the ship as possible. I’ll look at it when I come back down.”

Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. “What does the blue light mean, Din?” You couldn’t stop staring at the small offending tattletale in your palm.

“Red’s recording location, green is receiving signal, blue is…. sending.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. Great. “So it’s still active.”

Din hesitated before sighing. “Yes.”

“Osik!” Eyes shut tight, you went to clench your fingers around the device in aggravation, but thought better of it at the last second, stretching them out instead as far as possible while you glared at the device. You wanted to throw it across the clearing. “Should I step on it or something-” (“Shit!”)

“No!” He cut you off before lowering his voice. “No. We don’t want whoever it is to know we’re on to them.” Oh, but I do. Let them sweat a little bit. Let everyone know you don’t mess with- “Hopefully we can trace it back to whoever is getting the signal.”

You tried not to let your mind wander, but you couldn’t help it. Once it started, it was a rapid fire trail down the list of names. Endless possibilities of- But one in particular stood out. One sounded more likely than the rest…. “Din, what if it’s-”

“No,” he said again. “Don’t even start. There’s no way Gideon…. No.” The jet pack powered down. “I’m here. We’ll talk about it later. Just get it as far away from the ship as possible for now in case I’m wrong and it is some sort of explosive-”

“I’d almost prefer that at this point.” You hadn’t meant to interrupt him, but your mind was short circuiting right now, watching the loop of blinking lights repeat every few seconds. Red. Green. Blue. Red. Green. Blue. Red…. And the cycle repeated. Again. And again. And again.

Din laughed softly.

Screwing your eyes shut, the colors still flashed behind your eyelids. Red. Green. Blue…. “Plus you’re almost always wrong, so….”

The laugh melted into a soft growl.

Looking down to the holopad, you saw the camera pan around the mountaintop, a large circular stone in the middle of several taller stones. Whispers started to fill your mind. Nothing menacing, or sinister this time, but just gentle…. Nudges.

A sense of calm, of peace came over you, and the flashing of the tracker suddenly seemed trivial, the flicker of its light no longer a looming omen, but merely another happening in the day.

“Well, I guess this is it,” Din mumbled. “Does this look Jedi to you?”

You snorted as the whispers faded. “Don��t look at me, I just learned how to jump.” Not wanting to walk across the wide expanse of the valley, you looked at the tracker in disdain before floating it across the clearing, setting it delicately on top of one of the crates before you grabbed another crate and the holopad and headed back up the ramp of the Crest. “But just out of curiosity, what exactly makes something look…. Jedi…. to you?”

Din grunted.

The grin on your face kept climbing. “I’m only asking, because, you know…. I mean, you’re surrounded by it, really, so…. The kid…. Me, kind of…. Ahsoka.”

“What do you want me to say?” He sounded exasperated but amused.

Setting the crate down near the opening of the ramp with a huff, you stood up straight, turning back to the holopad with a smirk. “Well you haven’t said laser swords, so I guess that’s a good place to start.” The last crate was at the bottom of the ramp, and you made your way down to it leisurely.

Din grumbled, changing the subject. “I guess you sit right here.” The camera went out of focus as he shuffled the kid onto the top of the large stone in the center before taking a few steps back, the picture clearing back up quickly. You smiled at the sight of tiny Grogu on the large pedestal. “Okay. Here we go.”

Staring at the projection intently, you waited, but not even a voice entered your mind. Only silence stretched on as the kid tilted his head fondly at Din, cooing softly.

“This is the seeing stone, are you…. Seeing anything?”

With a roll of your eyes, you set the holopad on top of the box before picking it up by the handles with a grunt, and trudging up the ramp. “And you got after me earlier….” Making your way back up the ramp before setting your load down with a thud, you grabbed the holopad off the crate and collapsed to the floor, legs spread out lazily in front of you as you tipped your head back into the shade of the hull and out of the sun, laughing softly at Din’s response.

“Don’t start.” He walked around the large orb Grogu sat upon, his visor panning up and down as he surveyed for any clue. “Or are they supposed to see you? Maybe there’s some kind of control or something.“

A butterfly flew by, the child reaching for it with a soft squeal.

Din sighed, the tilt of the camera telling you his weight had shifted, his head cocking to the side in aggrivation. “Oh, come on, kid. Ahsoka told me all I had to do was get you here and you’d do the rest.”

Grogu looked poised to respond, but all three of your attentions were pulled to the sky when a ship flew over, beginning a landing pattern, circling lower and lower.

You were on your feet before you’d fully processed the decision to do so, everything spinning slightly from the speed with which you’d moved. Bracing a hand on the frame of the opening of the Crest, trying to keep the world from spinning any faster, you peered up toward the incoming ship, squinting against the bright sunlight. There was no particular aura around it, nothing menacing, but also nothing safe…. It was just blank. And that was almost more concerning.

Turning your attention back up toward the mountain top where the other two members of your clan were still investigating, you saw the shiny glint of your Mandalorian come into view on the ledge nearest to the Crest, looking down at the new visitors.

Din ran to the edge of the clearing, his visor turning down toward you, voice clear and calculating over the holopad. “Stay on the ship. We’re coming down.” With a few quick steps he was back in front of Grogu. “Time’s up, kid. We gotta get out of here.”

You saw a pillar of light shoot into the air, continuing high into the sky. Looking down to the holopad, you saw from Din’s perspective the beam of light was actually an energy field protecting the child, emanating from the stone. In the center Grogu sat in a perfect meditation pose, and the corner of your mouth twitched up. You’d been working with him on that.

The whispers were back, swirling around you, soft, kind, inviting, but above it all rose Din’s calm voice, “We don’t have time for this. We got to get….”

Before you could stop him, he tried to reach through the force field, the energy throwing him back across the mountaintop.

“Din!” You took a few steps forward, even though he was all the way up there, out of your reach.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he huffed as he got to his feet, turning back to face the light. “Hey! Snap out of it, kid!”

If the Mandalorian was one thing, he was persistent. “Din, that’s not going to work! It’s-”

“We got to get out of here!” Was your end of the conversation muted? With an aggravated huff you pushed that thought aside. Now wasn’t the time, he was just worried about the kid, you would be, too. You were. But you understood more than he did, the workings of the Force and other things, and that helped put you at ease, whereas he was fighting blind.

The child was at peace, one with the Force emanating from the stone, and you knew so long as he was there, he was safe. Nature would not abandon those it was reaching out to so intimately.

Din’s helmet swiveled to see a heat signature exiting the new ship where it had landed before turning back to the kid. “I’ll see if I can buy you some time. Can you please hurry up?”

As Din began to climb down the mountain, you started up the ramp toward the weapons locker. “I just have to grab another blaster, then I’m on-”

“No,” Din interrupted. “Stay.”

You paused, hands on the handles of the locker, completely frozen in place. So he did hear you. Good. Then he would hear exactly how low your voice dropped as you ground out, “Excuse me?”

“Until we know what’s going on. The kid is safe in that…. Thing, the ship is the next best thing for you until we know more about whoever this is. Probably whoever tracked us.” He sounded beyond exasperated. This was beyond his wits end, Force barriers and ancient temples, but he was trying.

You hesitated. “Keep your comms on. I’m staying on the ship only because we might need a quick get away.”

He was smiling, you could hear it. “Fine. But I’m turning the camera off. Runs down the charge-”

“Are you sure you aren’t a droid?” The locker doors squeaked as you opened them.

He hesitated only a moment, his voice low and unamused. “What?” The projection went dark, but the sound was still clear as ever, now coming from the comm on your belt.

Surveying your options, you grinned. “Nothing. Just trying to change the subject.”

Before he could respond, the sounds of blaster fire rang through the comms. Of course this is right after he cut the live feed. Shoving the holopad somewhere in the back of the weapons locker, you reached blindly for the nearest weapon. When you looked down and realized what it was, you smirked, slinging it across your shoulders. This’ll do.

“I’ve been tracking you, Mandalorian.” The voice was new to you and yet…. Something in the back of your head stood on alert at the sound. It wasn’t bad, it was just something…. Like an old friend had suddenly come back and stood in the next room discussing the weather. Mundane but comforting. Something about it pulling just at the edge of your memory….

“Are you Jedi?” Why does he assume Jedi after two seconds? You really needed to sit down with Din and have a Force Basics class, or something. “Or are you after the child?”

“I’m here for the armor.” That voice…. That niggling in the back of your mind wouldn’t be silenced. You knew this person. Somehow, in some lifetime, you’d crossed paths, maybe for only a moment, but it had been enough that your memory had decided to log it away for future use.

“If you want my armor, you’ll have to peel it off my dead body.” Rolling your eyes at Din’s reply, you double checked your weapons on your belt, freezing at the newcomer’s next reply.

“I don’t want your armor. I want my armor that you got from Cobb Vanth back on Tatooine. It belongs to me.”

Your head was spinning. That voice. It was older, gruffer than the last time you’d heard it, all those years ago on Coruscant. It couldn’t be….

“Are you Mandalorian?”

“I’m a simple man making his way through the galaxy. Like my father before me.”

Suddenly you were twelve years old again, the feeling of beskar stopping you like a wall of durasteel in the middle of the street slamming into you full force. Screwing your eyes shut, you leaned into the feeling. The voices all swelled at once, whispering indistinctly in one loud cacophony. No words in particular stood out until one repeated over and over.

Run.

Run!

As your eyes flew open, the conversation between the two men came back into focus, the newcomer issuing a threat.

“….I have a sharpshooter up on that ridge with a locked scope that will unload by the time my body hits the ground.”

Your feet began moving before you could think twice.

Din’s voice was dangerously low. “I’m the one wearing beskar. As soon as I see that muzzle flash, you’re both dead.”

The other man sounded amused. “I didn’t mean she was going to shoot you. My friend’s locked onto that little companion of yours up on the henge.”

You’d never moved so fast in your life.

A female voice came over the comm. “And if you remember, I don’t miss.”

“Fennec?” The shock in Din’s voice was not missed by you.

“You have a keen ear, Mando.”

They were just around the corner.

“You point that gun away from the kid or I’ll drop you both where you stand.” You heard his whistling birds engage and knew things would be winding down soon. Whether by choice or by violence, that was anyone’s guess.

“And if he doesn’t, I don’t miss, either.” All three heads snapped to you as you walked up from behind Din with your blaster drawn, aimed at the man, a second in your other hand pointed at the woman you guessed to be Fennec, and the rifle you’d stolen from the guard on Corvus slung across your shoulders and resting snugly on your back.

Looks were exchanged in the silence, Din shifting his weight slightly, but you saw his shoulders relax when you took a step closer to him.

The strange man looked resigned. “Let’s all put down our weapons, have a chat. There’s no need for bloodshed.”

Din gestured to the sniper with his blaster. “Tell her to drop the gun.”

“Tell her to drop hers,” Fennec fired back, letting out a soft huff after the man shot her a look. “Please.”

“After you put down the jet pack,” the man amended.

Din hesitated. “Same time.”

Despite saying ‘same time’, he waited until they were disarmed and off the child before he even reached for his jet pack. As everyone set their respective offending items down, you lowered your weapons, holstering them at your sides as you slid up next to Din.

“What are you doing here?” He mumbled, turning his face away from them as he set the jet pack against a large stone.

“It seemed like you might need some help.” Glancing over to the two strangers where they now stood across from you, you stood up taller. The man watched you with a critical eye as Fennec moved easily across the ledge she had been on toward her companion. “Looks like I was right.”

“I had it handled,” he groused, looking at you. “I told you to-”

Your face snapped over to peer into his visor, your reflection in the T doing nothing to dull the fire in your eyes as it blazed. “Din, so help me, you mention me staying on the ship one more time right now, I will throw you back there myself from here,” you hissed lowly, so the others wouldn’t hear. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm your voice, speaking as evenly as possible. “I can sense the kid, he is perfectly fine right now, safe, and where I need to be is here with you, so just….”

“Okay,” he agreed softly, nodding once at you before turning to the newcomers as Fennec finally made it off the ledge she’d been perched on.

Looking at the man for the first time, really looking, you tried to picture him a little bit shorter, a few years younger, that armor on the ship in much better shape…. Maybe if you squinted it would fit…. A name drifted in from their conversation, Boba Fett, and you tried to apply it to your memories of the armor. You studied his face as the three of them continued to exchange words, long jagged scars criss crossing his bald head; they looked painful. Finally something he said brought you back to the conversation at hand.

“I want my armor back.”

Din sounded exasperated at this point, and you wanted to smile. Everything about him was tired and the weight of it was starting to show. “It goes against the Mandalorian Creed.”

“The armor was given to my father, Jango, by your forebears. In exchange, I guarantee the safety of the child, as well as your own.” Boba looked at you, something in his eyes sparking as they fell to study your vambraces, then the mudhorn on your weapons at your waist before rising back to hold your steady gaze. “And that of your riduur.” (“Partner.”)

Before you could even think to respond, Fennec began.

“The bounty on your little friend has risen significantly. You can buy ten suits of armor for the price on its head.”

You’d had enough. “It is a he, and he has a name.”

She tilted her head at you in a small nod, a smirk starting up her face. “My apologies.”

Boba glossed over the small hiccup and circled back to the matter at hand. “I’d say we’re offering a fair deal under the circumstances.”

A ship suddenly flew overhead, low enough to mean intent, but high enough to keep its allegiance hidden, drawing all of your attention up to follow it before snapping into action.

Din met your gaze, his head tilting to the side just slightly before a small smile was crawling up your face. “I know. Go. I’ll be on the ship.” You reached out, giving his hand a squeeze as he gave you a quick nod, and you went separate ways, him up toward the child, and you to the Crest.

Pulling up short, you turned around, calling for him to stop. “Mando!” He skidded on the loose dirt, almost losing his footing before he recovered and turned to face you, his head once again tilted in question. Lugging his heavy jet pack up from where it rested on the ground, you took a few steps toward him before giving up and pushing it to him with an unseen force. “Don’t forget this.”

It landed against his chest just hard enough to earn an ‘oomph!’ on impact, his arms closing around it to keep it from falling. He nodded, lifting it to attach at his back before turning and flying up to the top of the hill.

You watched him go for only a moment, shaking your head fondly before turning toward the Crest once again.

Boba and Fennec scrambled the opposite way, but didn’t seem to be running away, just to a better vantage point. Deciding to trust them, you continued on to the ship.

Dashing up the ramp, you made it up right before the ramp lowered on the new ship, the voices of stormtroopers filling the clearing as heavy boot falls descended, thudding across the dusty surface of the planet. You hated it. It felt tainted. They shouldn’t be here. This was sacred ground, a special place, once a great temple….

Looking down to make sure your comm was clicked off so they wouldn’t know you were here, you startled when the troopers began dropping rapidly, blaster fire filling the air. Glancing around the corner you’d ducked behind, you saw Fennec perched halfway up the hill, picking them off one by one. Boba was nowhere to be found, but you knew he was close by. You could sense him.

And that’s when you knew.

He felt the same as when you ran into him in the streets of the Uscru district back home, something you didn’t understand at the time, but you did now. A sense of something broken, something healing, something safe, and something entirely good. Yes, he had shadows, dark places you could clearly see, but so did everyone. At his base, he was a good man, and you’d somehow run smack into him again.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed. I wish the universe would quit trying to prove a point so loudly.

Boba popped out from behind a rock right beside Fennec and for some reason, that made you smile. You knew he was there. He gestured to her and she nodded before they moved further down the hill.

If you didn’t have Din and a tiny little ward counting on you, you’d join them. But something inside told you to lay low. At least for now.

You watched Boba reappear like a shadow, slinking around the rocks as if he’d lived here all his life. He took out troopers left and right with the staff that had been strapped to his back. Your eyes were wide as you saw it shatter helmets with each hit.

Your attention was pulled away by an explosion, finding some troopers set up near the base of the hill launching explosives toward Fennec. She was still doing okay, but was having a harder time maintaining fire, ducking behind rocks to try and avoid the flying pieces of gravel. Her fire suddenly stuttered, and you saw her pause, following her line of sight, and you froze.

You didn’t know what it was, but you knew it was big. A trooper swung a massive gun on a stand toward her and opened fire as she scrambled away further up the hill. It’s shots came in rapid succession, hardly any pause between them as they turned the landscape into one giant curtain of sparks and smoke. It followed her as she ran along a ridgeline, something amusing tickling you that even with this massive weapon, they still couldn’t hit the broadside of a hillside. A small wave of relief washed over you as she finally ducked behind a large rock to hide from the blasts.

They kept pelting it with fire, launching their explosives at the rock in an attempt to dislodge it or her, whichever crumbled first, and you saw the rock begin to wiggle after an impact. An idea came into your head, and you saw Fennec disappear behind the boulder, so you reached out to see if maybe you could catch a glimpse and see if you were on the same page. You were.

From there it wasn’t hard to stay connected to her, almost seeing through her eyes as you enacted your plan.

As she braced her feet on the rock and pushed, grunting a “One,” you gave a little nudge yourself, but it barely budged.

She tried again, “Two,” and this time when you pushed a little harder, you saw it wobble forward.

Knitting your eyebrows, you focused on the large gun, causing it to jam. You gave one last push with Fennec’s shouted, “Three!” as she put everything she had into a final shove with her feet, sending the rock careening down the hill. Refocusing your efforts, you tried to guide it as best you could so it hit the most stormtroopers on the way down, including the massive gun at the bottom.

Only one was left, he had an orange shoulder marker indicating he was in change, but just as quickly as he issued orders to anyone left standing, Boba tapped him on the shoulder with his staff, making him turn only to have his feet swept from under him, his armor soon in pieces as he lay motionless at Boba’s feet.

He turned to look at the Crest, and you could feel his longing. Flipping your comm back on in case things took a turn, you stepped into the light. Stepping into the wide opening of the lowered ramp, you crossed your arms over your chest. He closed the distance between you quickly but cautiously. Standing at the bottom of the ramp, he fastened his staff onto his back as he peered up at you.

"I've come for what's mine."

"Well all of this is mine, buddy." You gestured to the interior of the ship behind you with a jerk of your head before aiming your vambrace at him, your flame thrower whirring to life as you held your ground. “I appreciate you protecting the kid, but I still don’t really know you, so just back off. Step away from our home.” He took a step toward you, holding his hands up in surrender when your vambrace whirred faster with a flick of your wrist. “Like I said, everything that’s in here is ours, so-”

"Not that." He pointed at the set of green Mandalorian armor you’d gotten from Vanth where it hung on the wall behind you.

Lowering your vambrace slightly, you looked at him with wide eyes as another wave of that familiarity washed over you. "It's you?"

He looked truly confused. "Me?"

"You." Lowering your arm fully, you stepped closer to him. “It’s really you.”

"Uh-oh." Lifting his hands still in surrender higher for a moment, he set one on your shoulder lightly as he maneuvered slowly around you, cautiously. "What do I owe you?"

Turning to keep him in your sights, you shook your head. "No, I-"

Boba stopped, turning to face you fully, both of you at the top of the ramp, with his arms hanging easily at his sides. "If Fennec ever wronged you, I can assure you she's a changed person now. We're working on-"

You laughed. "No! It's you! Nau ki’bas’ika." Something in you marveled at how those words had sounded so foreign back then, but now…. Now they flew off your tongue as if you’d known them your whole life. The little strings around your heart that bound your clan of three together cinched ever so slightly tighter, which you didn’t even think was possible. Every time it happened, it took your breath away. Every added knot one more confirmation in a long line of things that you were where you were supposed to be. (“Little light bug.”)

Understanding dawned on his features, something soft coming over his eyes. “Te ad'ika...?” He smiled. "My, how you've grown." (“The little one.”)

Din’s voice crackled over your comm. He sounded panicked, and it pulled you right back to the moment at hand. He never sounded panicked. "Do you have eyes?! I can't see them! The kid! He's-"

Looking up at Boba, you gestured down the ramp. "I have to-"

He didn’t even let you finish, gesturing you down the ramp with a nod of his head. "Go."

As you ran toward the beam of light protecting the kid, you’d never felt like the world had moved more slowly. You were moving as fast as you could, practically floating above the ground, defying the laws of physics as you pleaded with the Force to give you the boost needed to make it in time. Please. They were your family. Not like this.

It was a loop in your head as you closed in on the mountaintop, not even out of breath.

Please, not like this.

But for all your physical speed, the world around you seemed to move by in sluggish streaks of blurry colors. Nothing was in focus except the ridge you were trying to reach. Nothing else mattered except for that ridge. More specifically, what was on it. As your jaw set in determination, you leaned into your sprint, pushing even harder to reach the top as soon as possible.

You faintly registered another ship coming in to land by the other, the sounds of blaster fire picking back up again down below as you crested the top, finally seeing Din and the child for the first time in what felt like hours. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Din was laying on the ground, so you helped him to his feet.

“What’s going on? Did you fall?” A cursory glance from head to toe didn’t show any major injuries or cause for alarm, but then again, the beskar would probably hide most things. You reached out to rest your hand on his upper arm, but he didn’t even look at you.

He turned to face Grogu, completely ignoring your question. “That’s it, kid. We got to get out of here!”

Din began trying to push through the barrier again, grunting and struggling as he ignored your protests.

“Stop it! Din, no, it’s not- You’re just going to-”

He bounced back like he’d been launched, shaking his hands almost as if he’d been burned or shocked.

“It’s not going to work,” you finally concluded, unable to help your grin as he rolled his head to glare at you before looking off the edge of the mountain to the ships down below, pressing something on the side of his helmet.

Turning back to Grogu, he huffed. “Okay, I’m gonna protect you.” He said it like it was his choice, like there were other options, and a wall of Force energy wasn’t dictating this whole situation for him. You had to look away so he wouldn’t see your smile. “Just stay there. I’ll be back soon.”

Following where he had been looking down the edge of the rocky terrain, you saw Fennec begin to take more heavy fire. “Din, go help her! They offered to help keep the kid safe, and if we get out of here, we’re going to need that help. Now go!”

He nodded. “Stay with him. Please?”

You couldn’t help the small smile. “Where else would I be?”

Din nodded again, a short, relieved sigh letting his shoulders relax slightly. “Keep your comm on.”

You nodded in confirmation before gesturing him down the mountainside. Once he was gone, you turned to look at Grogu. The Force wall evaporated, leaving the kid in a dazed state as he blinked drowsy eyes and breathed heavily, falling to the side to curl into a little ball, instantly asleep.

Opting to leave him be, since you didn’t really understand giant seeing stones and their way of doing things, you kept watch at the edge, eyes watching down below and ears tuned in to the child behind you.

Din and Fennec fought back to back until an explosion rocked the earth near them, sending troopers flying. Not again, you thought. You began to look around for a rock you could launch down the hillside without tiring yourself out too much, when you noticed a flash of green armor, and you grinned.

When Boba sent rockets flying out of a piece on his knee, you picked up your comm. “I finally found something your armor doesn’t do.”

Din grumbled in response, making your smile grow.

The troopers began to run away after just a few well placed attacks from Boba, and your grin turned into a smug smirk when you saw him twirl his gun like Din had on Corvus.

Your comm crackled before Din’s voice came back over. “At least he can do that properly.”

This time you grumbled.

As the ships took off with all the troopers piled back in them, you made a last second decision after looking at a sleeping Grogu once more. He’d wake up starving. Now that the coast was clear, you were just going to grab a ration pack and hurry back up to be there when he woke up.

Jogging down the hill, you were quick to dash up the ramp of the Crest, grabbing a ration pack before turning to head back up. You paused when your comm went off.

"Mesh'la?"

The connection was staticky, and you could barely make out his one word as you began to walk forward again. "On the ship. I'II be out in a second…. Just had to get the-"

The comms went out with a wave of static, making Din turn to look at the Crest, pressing the button for his comm on the side of his helmet once, twice, but nothing worked.

"Mesh'la?" He tried quietly, knowing you couldn't hear. Before he could push it a third time, a laser bolt shot down from the sky, streaking toward the Crest faster than he could comprehend. "Mesh'la!"

Xxx

Din POV

Everything moved in slow motion, the path of the bolt streaking through the sky something he wanted to look away from but didn't dare to even blink.

Before he could take even two steps closer to his ship, the bolt hit its mark, exploding in a cloud of flames and debris.

The glow illuminated the sky behind the Crest, casting the ship in an eerie glow, the ping of rocks landing on the roof of the ship like rain music to his ears.

He was moving before he had even fully processed what had happened. All he knew was you were somewhere over there, somewhere near the danger, somewhere that was supposed to be safe.

No matter what happened, how he tried, the people in his life seemed to pay for being a part of it. First his parents, then countless others he’d tuned out over the years, telling himself it was easier if he just didn’t have people in his life in the first place. And that was true. It was so much easier not worrying about the kid. Not worrying about you. If both of you were safe. Warm. Fed. Happy.

But it was also so much emptier.

That was a life he wasn’t willing to go back to. Not now. Not after so many months of days filled with…. Just filled. Even in moments of silence, of nothing, of sleep, it was so much more, so much better than anything before. And he wasn’t willing to go back. Not if he couldn’t go back to you.

He slid on his knees on the grass the last few feet to where you laid on the ground at the bottom of the ramp, the wind knocked out of you. You moaned softly, trying to push up onto your elbows. Din maneuvered so he was behind you, letting you lean on him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I think so?” You grimaced. “What happened?”

“They shot the tracker. Why were you on the ship?”

“I came down for a ration pack for the kid, he’s gonna be wiped out after-” Your eyes went wide and you snapped them up to look at his visor straight on. “The kid!”

Xxx

Normal POV

Once again running faster than you thought you ever could, you leapt across the tops of the stones on the mountainside like they were stairs, charging ahead of the others. Landing on the top, you skidded on the dusty stone before closing the last few steps to the seeing stone, turning to put your back to Grogu, your saber already drawn and ignited, ready.

Above you, four black humanoid shapes came into view, coming straight for the kid. They landed in a circle around him, and you realized they were droids.

“Hey, grease breath, think again,” you said firmly, pulling back to swing your saber, but the one closest to you grabbed your wrist, jerking you to the side and off balance, making you stumble. Your saber slipped from your hand, skittering away from you as the droid flung you the opposite direction.

You tried to reach out with the Force and stop them, but the world started spinning, the explosion and your exertion finally catching up with you, and all you could do was watch with your hand reaching toward him as Grogu sat up wide eyed. He looked at you, a wave of calm washing over you like a breath of fresh air, and it took everything in you not to cry. Even in moments where he was in danger, he was trying to help you not be scared.

Everything blurred through unshed tears as the droid snatched him, all four taking back off into the sky just as Din and Fennec crested the top of the mountain.

“They’ve got the baby,” Fennec said into a comm, and you smiled. At least now she was calling him a baby. “Don’t let them get away!”

“Stop him. I don’t want the child hurt.” Din’s voice was deceiving my calm, but you knew better. This day was catching up with him fast. If you felt like this, you could only imagine how he felt. It was just him and the kid before you even came into the picture. If anything were ever to get to a Din, this would be it.

After that you let yourself collapse back on the ground, exhaustion catching up with you. With your eyes closed you weren’t sure, but you heard footsteps come closer to you, and you assumed it was Din. The soft groan he let out as he knelt beside you confirmed it, and in better circumstances, you’d smile, make a joke about it.

But these aren’t better circumstances.

The kid is gone.

Grogu is gone.

Opening your eyes as Din helped maneuver you into a seated position like down by the ramp, you put your hand on his wrist, stopping his movements. “I’m sorry.” You could only just barely whisper.

“What?”

Looking up to hold his gaze, you felt the tears finally fall. “I’m so sorry, Di- Mando.” Your eyes flitted over to Fennec briefly, confirming she was close enough to hear, but she was trying hard not to, looking down at the ground as she stood patiently to the side.

“Hey,” Din pulled your attention back to him. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“But it was.” Your voice quivered without your permission. Swallowing in an attempt to clear it away, your eyes darted over every inch of his visor, searching for something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “If I had just stayed up here, not gone for the stupid snack-” Shutting your eyes tight, you saw Grogu even in the darkness, his wide eyes staring at you as he offered you that last wave of peace, and a fresh wave of grief replaced all the good.

Din didn’t let you finish the thought. “He would have wanted that-”

You didn’t let him comfort you, either. Eyes flying open, you stared at him with brows raised incredulously. “-or let them knock my saber out of my hand-”

He really wasn’t going to let you win. “You’d just been in an explosion-”

“Stop trying to make this okay!” You yelled, eyes screwed shut. Then, quieter, “It’s not okay.”

“It’s also not your fault.” Din matched your quiet tone, his voice calm and collected, and you didn’t know how.

You opened your eyes to glare at him. “It’s not yours.”

“Nope.” Knitting your eyebrows, you tilted your head at him. He eased back on his haunches with a soft groan, moving you gently into a more comfortable position. “I blame Gideon.”

You rolled your eyes before huffing out a laugh. “Well, duh.”

Laughing softly, you closed your eyes again when his forehead came to rest softly against yours. The kid still appeared with every blink, but it was quickly becoming comforting again instead of the heavy weight still on your chest. You’d make this right. Not for yourself, but for Grogu who deserved everything good and kind in this galaxy. And for Din, who deserved everything…. Just everything. You’d make this right for them.

“Whatever ends up happening with the kid, will be because of you, mesh’la,” Din echoed your words to him from back on the ship earlier today. “You’ve fed him, you’ve taken care of him, he’s learned from you. Already. No matter how powerful.” Silent tears raced down your cheeks as he continued to repeat what you’d said. “He’s going to be okay. And it will all be because of you. It all comes back to you.”

Xxx

Staring at the crater that almost was the Crest, smoke tendrils curling into the air, you crossed your arms over your chest as you surveyed the scene.

“It could have been so much worse.” Your voice was barely a mumble, your words barely legible. “They could have gotten the ship. If I hadn’t…. That tracker.” Breath caught in your chest, you tried to calm yourself with a deep, shuddering breath. “They could have gotten you.” Turning to face Din, your eyes wide, you swallowed roughly as you pushed that thought away. Clearing your throat, you found a strength to your voice somehow, small though it was. “I’m just glad you and the kid weren’t in there. I know…. I know he’s gone, and we’re gonna get him back, Din, don’t worry, but….” You shook your head as you looked back at the crater. “It could have been so much worse.”

Din gently dug into the little bag on his belt, your eyes following his almost hesitant movements. He sighed as he slowly pulled out the smallest red flower on a long thin stem. “He…. The kid.” He cleared his throat. “Grogu picked this at the top of the hill, and I think…. I think it was for you.”

Blinking a few times you stared at the small bud. “W-wha…” you cleared your own throat. “What makes you think that?”

“Whenever he’s picked up stuff for you before, the rocks and that beetle on Arvala-7…. He makes a certain noise, well a series of noises that I think is his way of saying your name. It’s always the same. He says it when you tuck him in at night, too.”

You stared at his visor, your voice small as you tried not to let the tears fall. “That’s what that babbling is?” You reached for the flower, taking it delicately with a small smile, your voice smaller still. “My name?” Twisting the fragile stem along your fingertips, you brought it up to smell it, the sweet scent making your lips turn down slightly as your thoughts turned back to the kid. “It’s never sounded more beautiful.”

You turned toward the Crest behind you, looking up at the ship that had seen better days in an attempt to hide your face, swiping blatantly at the tears silently tracking down your face with the palm of your hand.

The ship had not been damaged directly, but flying gravel had ricocheted, denting spots on the hull and causing a few panels to dangle, hanging on by a wire or a single bolt clinging for dear life.

“She just doesn’t want to give up the ghost, does she,” you mused quietly, a small smile turning up your features as you surveyed the tattered walls that had become your home.

Din loomed close behind you, just far enough to technically count as space. But close enough that when you took a deep, steadying breath, you felt a wall of beskar firmly press into your spine.

A soft huff of laughter left his modulator close to your ear as he too tilted his head back to take in the damage. “She hasn’t failed me yet.” His voice somehow got closer. “A lot like someone else I know.”

You smiled, a truly joyful thing, but it quickly melted into something morose, turning down rapidly as new tears raced down your cheeks to join the others. As you tilted your head down into your hands, you felt warm arms come around you from behind, the cold press of beskar against the thin layer of dirt and sweat on your skin doing something to ground you that you weren’t expecting.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled into your hands. “I’m not like this. I don’t cry. This isn’t-” Lifting your head quickly, your hands coming to rest on his forearms that rested across your chest, you sniffed away the emotions as best you could when you felt the sharp edge of his helmet come to rest on your shoulder. The contrast of the warmth of his body heat under the flight suit where his chin settled in at the curve of your neck, and the cool touch of beskar once again doing something to distract you as his helmet came to rest against your temple with a sigh. “This isn’t me.”

“It’s okay if it is,” rumbled softly into your very bones.

“No.” You swiped at tears angrily again, keeping one hand on his arms before returning the other as well. “He needs me to be strong. You- I need me to be-”

“Mesh’la….”

A stuttering breath caught in your chest as you willed the emotions building again to just try and surface one more time. You dared them. “He’s gone, Din.” A deep breath. “He’s gone.”

Arms wound tighter around you, the press of beskar against your temple more firm, so much so you had to tilt your head to the side to accommodate the pressure. Suddenly you were being turned until your forehead was against his, your hands lost in his cowl as they clutched for a semblance of something familiar. Soft “I know”s and mumbled promises of returns and revenge never ceasing as strong armor clad arms pulled you tighter into himself, every hard line of beskar a welcome familiarity that helped ground you once again.

Sniffling pitifully, you tucked your face further into his cowl to hide. “I’ll be fine. Thank you. I….” Taking a few steadying breaths, you willed your nerves to still. They didn’t listen, but something in you did, and you found the strength to look up into his visor again. “Go talk to Boba and Shand. Figure out the plan. I’ll be over in a minute. Gonna….” Clearing your throat as you released your grip on his cowl, smoothing the fabric as you focused on it instead, you took another deep breath and continued. “Gonna evaluate the damage, see what we need to do to get out of here in one piece. I assume we’ll take her to Peli’s?” Drawing back, hands moving to your hips, you began to study the ship again, tucking the flower from Grogu into your belt. “I’ll make sure we can at least limp there.”

Din hesitated, weight shifting gently from side to side as he studied you.

“Go.” Motioning him on with a jut of your chin toward your new companions, you tried your best grin you could muster. “Just need time.”

He nodded, turning on his heel and walking around to the other side of the Crest, looking over his shoulder back your way only once.

You made it until he was just around the corner, but just barely. As soon as he was, you dropped. On your haunches, clutching your knees close to your chest, silent sobs wracked your body. You bit your hand when stronger ones threatened to take over.

You’d failed.

He was gone.

You weren’t enough.

Shut up!

Tears of sadness quickly turned to anger and the abruptness of it should have flagged something in the back of your mind, but it didn’t. Instead, you just let it roil, let it grow, as it was the only thing that seemed to make the tears stop. You’d always been told anger festered, but this just felt powerful. This felt like a strength you needed right now, and it was what brought you back to your feet, dried your tears, and brought your head back up high.

As you worked your way around the ship, one thought alone consumed your mind. Gideon was gonna pay.

Din was speaking as you came up to the group. “Then that armor belongs to you.” His voice was softer than it had been earlier, and had an undertone of respect. He glanced to the side to look at you, doing a double take, and you wondered why until you caught your reflection in his visor and saw the obvious evidence you’d been crying.

Quickly swiping at your cheek with the back of your glove, you shrugged at him as he tilted his head in question. “I’m fine.”

Boba blessedly circled back to the subject they had been on when you walked up, like he had before. “I appreciate its return.”

With a sigh, Din turned his focus back on the other Mandalorian. “Then our deal is complete.”

Boba heaved a matching sigh, and it almost made you smile. Maybe it was a Mandalorian trait after all. “Not quite.”

You arched your brow. “What do you mean?”

“We agreed in exchange for the return of my armor, we will ensure the safety of the child.”

Din turned his head just slightly to look at you before speaking quietly. “The child’s gone.”

Surprisingly you felt nothing but a twinge of sadness, and that was for Din. The overwhelming feeling that surged through you was anger, and normally it would have had you scrambling for some sort of control, but this time…. This time it only made you smile.

Boba mistook your grin for understanding of his plan and returned your grin before explaining to Din, “Until he is returned to you safely, we are in your debt.”

Din looked at Fennec, and when she nodded in confirmation, he turned toward you.

The words on the tip of your tongue beg to come out. Don’t look at me, I’m the reason he got taken. But you tamp that voice down, you know it’s not true. “Sounds like a plan,” you said instead, hands resting on your hips.

You turned back to survey the Crest once again as they made finer details to the plan, and you only vaguely registered something about following to Tatooine after some minor repairs.

Voices began to swell in your mind, whispers, trying to offer calming things and peace, but you pushed them away. Where were they when the kid was being taken? Shutting your eyes tight, you tried to ignore them, tamp them down, but they swelled even louder, causing the anger in your gut to grow suddenly.

“Mesh’la?”

The voices stopped abruptly for the first time since you’d started hearing them, almost like they’d been strangled, cut off, and you sighed happily.

“Mesh’la, you okay?” A gloved hand gently on your elbow pulled your attention back to the present, making your eyes go wide. These new feelings surrounding you were ones you’d tried to push away time and time again, but now…. Now they fed you, kept you standing under the weight of this massive burden. And that was something to analyze at another time.

“Never better.” You looked up into his visor with a small smile. “So where do we start to get the old girl back in the stars?”

Xxx

The cockpit was silent, aside from the soft whir of hyperspace and the beeps of various instruments.

Staring out the viewport from your seat, you startled when Din finally spoke. “I’m sorry we aren’t going somewhere with fireflies like we had planned.”

You pulled your attention over to where he sat in the captain's seat, finding him staring at Grogu’s empty copilot’s chair. Letting your eyes fall to the empty seat yourself, a single tear racing down your cheek, you smiled fondly. “It’s okay. We’ll make it there eventually.” More silence filled the space until you continued even more quietly. “I’d rather go when the kid can see them, too, anyway. Who knows? Maybe he’d eat some, no matter how hard we tried to keep him from doing so, and he would start to glow.”

A soft chuckle passed the vocoder before his head hung at a broken angle, still staring at the chair as a distinct sniff sounded. He shook his head gently before his chin fell to his chest, his shoulders shaking in silent tears.

“Din….” You were about to unclick your safety belt and go to him when the alarm alerting that the ship was about to drop out of hyperspace sounded.

It was like a switch flipped. He sat up straight. His shoulders rolled back, his head lifted high, and his breathing evened out as he spun around to start taking over the controls necessary as the view through the transparisteel faded from the swirl of hyperspace to the dotted maze of space. The only sign something was wrong was the one deep shuddering breath he took before he cleared his throat, a wet, affected sound, before he finally spoke to you again. “We’re here.”

Xxx

When the ramp dropped down to the dusty earth of hangar 3-5, the prattle of pit droids immediately started in.

You took one step down toward the wave of heat washing over you when you were stopped with a hand around your wrist. Turning, you came face to visor with Din. Arching your brow in question, you waited for him to explain, finally asking an exasperated but quiet, “What?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Shaking your head, eyes closed as you scoffed lightly, you began to turn back toward the ramp again. “Din-” But his grip pulled you to a stop again, making your eyes fly open and look down at his hand around yours.

“Stop.” There were so many layers to his single word. You knew he didn’t just mean trying to go down the ramp. He meant blaming yourself. He meant whatever was simmering under your skin since Tython. He meant a multitude of things. Stepping up closer to you, Din tilted his head down to keep his gaze on you, his voice going lower still, almost as broken as you felt. “Just stop.”

Your eyes refused to stay open at that point, fighting back a wave of emotions threatening to make themselves known through tears. Your lower lip trembled in its effort to seal the feelings in, broken things wanting to tumble from you in strings of illegible sentences. “I-”

“No.” He crowded you back against the wall, once again pressing into you, less in an effort to ground you, but more for his benefit this time, his hands cradling the sides of your neck and winding into your hair as he tilted your head back to look into his visor as he went on. “This is his fault. Gideon did this. And he’s the one we’re going after. The kid is smart, he knows it wasn’t- hey, open your eyes.”

Looking up at him through a new swirl of tears, you cursed the swell of emotions and steeled yourself to make it through this conversation.

“There she is,” he said around a smile, his thumb coming to wipe away a stray tear off the apple of your cheek, your brows furrowing at the sensation. His gloves were off.

“When did you-”

He pushed a button on his vambrace, and the ramp started to close, making you do a double take, one of the pit droids squealing as it scrambled to get out of the way.

“What? Din, we need to-”

As the ramp sealed, he pushed another button, setting the interior of the ship into total darkness.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, your stomach doing something stupid as you tried to get your brain to catch up with the rest of your body that apparently knew what was happening already.

After the hiss of his helmet disengaging ended, and a soft thump sounded beside you on the floor, you took a sharp breath in when you felt bare skin come to rest on your forehead. Hairs that stuck out much too long at the sides and the front, long overdue for a trim, tickled your eyelids. A warm breath fanned across your face as he took quick breaths in and out, seemingly lost in the surrealness of the moment like you.

When his fingers found their way back to the sides of your neck, winding their way into your hair once again, you couldn’t help the soft groan you let out, or the renewed one when the puff of air from his chuckle danced across your face.

Din hinged your head back to look up at him once again, even though in the total darkness you could only see the phantom of your imagination.

“Come back to me,” he mumbled, forehead still firmly against yours, his words painting warm breaths across your skin a convincing argument.

“I’m right here.” Your hands snaked up each of his arms, wrapping loosely around his wrists as his fingers slid further into your hair.

He huffed gently. “No, you’re a million miles away.”

“You don’t-”

“Don’t say I don’t understand,” he growled lowly. “Get that out of your head.” After a few shallow breaths, he sighed. “I lost him, too.”

“I was right there, Din-”

“So was I.”

“I left him alone.”

He stepped closer into you, your spine sealing along the wall. “So did I.”

“No, you left him with me.”

Din took a breath like he was going to say something, but stopped short, letting it out on a sigh. “We were both standing right there when he was taken, mesh’la. Those droids would have gotten him regardless. Gideon has been watching us and tracking us, he hasn’t been playing fair.”

“Right. He’s been tracking the ship. You know what else?”

“Mesh’la….” He warned.

“Me. He’s been tracking me. Because of that bounty.” Your hands were in his cowl and you went to push him away but as soon as you started to, you pulled him closer still. Crumbling into the material, your face began to fall, but he pushed it back with his thumbs on your cheeks. “Don’t you see? No matter how you look at this, it all comes back to me.”

A long moment passed before Din spoke softly. “If that’s the case, then it all really started with me.” You blinked up at him, despite not being able to see him. “You have the bounty because of me. He is on the run because of me. Gideon is pissed because of me. It all comes back to me.”

“Din, no. No, you can’t think like that. It’s not-”

“But you can?”

Your mouth snapped shut, hands moving from his wrists to around his neck and into his hair. “You’re so infuriating, you know that?”

His soft huff of laughter painted your skin in warm shades of joy, comfort tinging the entire scene at the seams.

When you speak again, your voice is soft, barely above a whisper, and much breathier than you had intended. “Why’d you take your gloves off?”

Din’s thumbs traced over your cheeks once again, drawing lazy circles as you felt his lips turn up into a smile where he had tucked his face near your temple. “Needed to feel you. Know you’re here.” He let out a long breath into your hair before mumbling, “I think you needed it, too.”

“And your helmet?”

His face pulled away from yours, soon coming back in the form of his forehead on yours, as his words ghosted over your lips. “That? Now that was just for me.”

“Oh really?” You smirked.

“Mmm-hmm,” he hummed, and you could feel his face scrunching up as he grinned once again, all of his features a mere breath away from yours.

“What exactly did you want to get out of it?” You teased, tugging on his cowl.

“Well-” he began, but was cut off by a rhythmic tapping on the hull of the Crest.

A faint, “Mando?” pierced through the darkness, Peli’s voice cutting through the moment like a bantha in a china shop.

Din let out a heavy sigh against your face, groaning in annoyance, chuckling when you couldn’t contain a giggle. “Someday,” he promised.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you teased with a tug on his cowl with one hand before pushing him away.

He groaned as he knelt down to pick up his helmet, letting it seal with a hiss before he turned the lights back on, and lowering the ramp once again. He took a single step down the ramp before stopping when you grabbed his wrist. Continuing down until you wove your fingers with his, you pulled him forward to walk down the ramp with you, hand in hand. Looking over your shoulder with a smile, you mumbled a quiet, “Someday,” only for him.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite little family!” Peli singsonged, arms held out in welcome. Her expression fell slightly after a moment. “Where’s bright eyes?”

The sound of a second ship coming in to land in the hangar pulled your attention upwards, Peli’s immediate confusion and irritation moving her over toward Boba’s ship touching down a few yards away. “I’m sorry. This is a private hangar. You’re going to have to-”

“Peli.” She turned to you, brows raised in question. “They’re with us.”

“What?” Her voice had gone squeaky in confusion.

Not letting go of Din’s hand, you held out your free hand toward her, gesturing her over as Boba and Fennec came down the ramp of his ship. “Come sit with me for a minute.”

“What’s going on?” She walked over quickly. “You’re scaring me.”

Sitting at an overcrowded table covered in parts from at least seven different types of ships, you set Din’s hand on your shoulder as he stood close behind you, reaching both of your hands across the table to take Peli’s hand in yours. “I’m going to tell you something and I need you to keep calm for me.”

She nodded. “I can do that.”

Din squeezed your shoulder. “The kid was kidnapped.”

“What?!” She tried to get to her feet but was yanked back down when you wouldn’t release her hand and she had to sit back down, staring at you with wide eyes.

“It’s okay! We’re gonna get him back.”

“Of course you are!” She said firmly, nodding. “When do we leave?”

You smiled at your friend, tears coming for a whole new reason this time. “No, Peli. We need you to stay here.”

“Like kriff! I can’t shoot hardly worth a damn, and I don’t really know how in the bantha diddle I’m going to help, but dank farrik, we have to get the kid.”

All you could do was blink at her. If you did anything it would be in amusement at her fierce use of bantha diddle.

Din finally came to the rescue. “The person who took him put a tracker on the Crest.” Her eyes flamed as they darted to the ship, and you truly feared for Gideon in that moment. “I need to store it here until this is resolved, keep it off the radar. If she hadn’t seen the tracker and taken it off, the ship would be a pile of debris right now.” Din tilted his head toward you, and Peli turned owlish eyes on you that turned soft in understanding. “Can you sweep it for any more trackers, and house it until-”

“Done.” She held up her free hand, waving off the topic, it was already decided in her mind.

“She also needs a once over. The debris of the explosion did a number-”

“Already being taken care of.” She tilted her head toward her pit droids already well into repairs on the hull of the ship.

As you stared at the large gunship that had become like a home for your little clan of three, you smiled sadly, your voice barely a thing to be heard. “It’s lonely on the Crest without the kid.” Turning to look up at Din to your left, your smile, though still sad, grew just a little. “There's just so many ration packs without him here." The gentle shake of the Mandalorian’s head was encouragement enough to go on. "I miss going to the markets every hour of the day to top up.” Looking back at the ship, you chuckled sadly. “He’d eat a whole bantha if you let him.”

Peli’s hand flipped in your grip, squeezing your hand. “We’ll get the little womp rat back, don’t worry. Mando’s on it.” She did a double take when she saw Boba over your shoulder. “Apparently two Mando’s are on it.” Boba took his helmet off and Peli’s eyes went wide, darting between Din and the new Mandalorian several times before landing on you. “I think my brain just exploded.”

Xxx

As Din picked a few select things to take with him from the Crest, you fiddled with your vambraces, sitting on a crate a few feet behind him.

“So you sent a message?”

He nodded, pulling the beskar spear from the weapons locker and twirling it once with a flourish before attaching it at his back somehow.

Studying him with narrowed eyes to try and understand how, he turned to face you, pushing a button on his vambrace to close the locker.

“Not taking the Amban?”

He shook his head.

“Don’t think you’ll run into any Jawas?”

He grunted in annoyance.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you mused softly, watching him as you buffed your left vambrace with a cloth in your right hand.

“Just thinking,” he hummed.

“About?” You asked after he didn’t go on.

“What to do if Cara won’t help us get Mayfeld out of prison. If Mayfeld won’t flip and help us. If the plan goes, well…. According to plan,” you groaned, “but then we find Gideon and then something goes wrong. If the kid is…. Is already….”

Getting to your feet, cloth and vambraces forgotten, you closed the distance between you, your hand instantly cupping the side of his helmet in your palm to keep his visor on you. “He’s fine, Din.”

“You don’t know. Gideon could have-”

“No. I know, Din. I can feel him. We’re connected, remember?” He let out a short bewildered huff of air. “He’s alright. More than alright. I keep getting surges of….” You smiled, eyes studying the wall behind Din for a moment before coming back to the T of his visor. “Trouble.”

“Then he’s not fine. What do you-”

“No, not that he’s in trouble. He’s causing it.”

Din snorted. “Trouble, huh?” Something proud and smug in his voice.

You nodded. “Along with glee and…. Mischief.” Your face fell into your palm as Din chuckled. “It’ll be a miracle if we get there and the ship isn’t a total wreck floating through space.”

“That would make our jobs much easier,” Din mused quietly, laughter painting his words.

“I’d much prefer Gideon alive.”

Din tilted his head at you in question. “Why?”

Making your way down the ramp, you didn’t bother turning around as you answered, “I have a few things I need to say to his face.”

Xxx

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scottmemelordstrashpile · 8 months ago

Text

My Murder Drones series review. (WARNING: SPICY TAKES CONTAINED WITHIN AS WELL AS GENERAL SERIES SPOILERS.) (UPDATED for the August 2024 series finale!)

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I hate to say it but I think I'm just done with the series at this point. Or if nothing else I've just kinda stopped giving a shit. At most I might continue to watch out of morbid curiosity but I'm past the point of caring about it on any other level. I'm just here to watch the fire burn.

I wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt. I really did. But the problems I have with the show just kinda continue to persist. It's sort of a death by a million cuts thing where my issues just continue to pile higher and higher with each new episode.

Please don't take this as a personal attack if you like the show, if you enjoy it that's fine. You're entitled to. This is just my own opinion however if you don't want to read me being overtly negative and critical of the series then feel free to just continue scrolling. If however you'd like to know more then I implore you to click the "Keep reading" button and you can get a better understanding of why I feel this way and why I have a love-hate relationship with this show.

(Author's note August 2024: Originally I wrote this shortly after Episode 7 first came out however I have returned to make some small additions after the premiere of the series finale. That being said most of my thoughts haven't really changed much.)

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I have tried very hard to push my feelings aside and put on a positive face.

I kept telling myself "Maybe they'll get better as they go. Maybe the storytelling will get better as it goes on." but every episode I just feel even more confused and frankly kind of annoyed.

Everything just goes by so quickly, we're almost never given time to ruminate or rest. Sometimes it feels like entire scenes are missing with how it jumps between things. Hell, a good example is in-between episodes 4 and 5 where it feels like we missed something in-between. (Episode 5 in general is very confusing and probably my absolute least favorite, but that aside.) The last scene we see is Uzi and N falling asleep on the bus then somehow I guess we're back at the colony in Uzi's room and V is there too now? We don't even know V is there too until later either. At first we think it's just N but then it's revealed V is also unconscious. (And I guess also somehow hooked up to the same simulation or whatever N is? Also how do they know the parts neither of them were there for?) This is just a single example but they do things like this more than once. Jumping between scenes with no context.

It's still unclear who did what or why and they killed off Doll who was like the only character that had a definite motivation which also annoyed me. She was like the only character we actually had a very solid understanding of so to see her get killed off without a thought was almost kind of symbolic with how the writing in this show is. (Though I guess at the same time even Doll didn't 100% make sense like for instance why she was perfectly fine with slaughtering random members of the colony just like the DDs that killed her parents even though they hadn't wronged her or anything to warrant it. I understand she likely needed to due to the solver infection but during the prom scene for instance she kills two random worker drones for basically no reason, just because she could.)

I don't really get the point of masquerading as Tessa when it's pretty much stated outright she can basically brainwash drones by rewriting their memories and programming. And the whole "I wanted you to keep your original personality" spiel just seemed like a lame excuse if I'm going to be honest. (This section has been altered due to later revelations.)

The show just seems to never actually answer any questions and just continuously piles on more and more questions with the few it does answer.

But if I went into intricate detail on every little thing that bothers me or doesn't make any sense I'd be writing a novel and this post is already getting kind of long and ranty. Plus I feel like that'd be a bit petty of me to do. (In addition to just taking way too long.)

(Obviously the part below was written before it was confirmed Episode 8 was going to be the end for the foreseeable future.)

I know I said before I would reserve my judgement until after the show is "Over" so I guess I kind of lied. But since what I presume to be Season 1 is coming to a close and it'll probably be a long while before Season 2 is announced if Glitch's previous tendencies are any indication I'd say it's a decent enough time to form an opinion. If the show hasn't got me by the end of the first season I feel like something might be wrong. I will not deny, it could also just be the show isn't for me to begin with which I guess I can respect. So I won't go out of my way to say it's bad, but I don't like it. And considering there's only one episode left of season 1 I highly doubt it's going to save it for me. It feels like I'm watching the series out of context when I'm not.

Me from August 2024: So now that we know Season 2 is bunk and the future of the series if any at all is uncertain I think I can safely say the series did a really bad job of conveying it's lore to the viewer.

I also really dislike how the series uses so many "Blink and you'll miss it." moments to dispense lore. It gets really tiring, I shouldn't have to analyze a show frame by frame just to have an idea of what is going on. I hate to act like I'm an authority here but I feel like that's bad writing. It feels like the writer(s) completely misunderstand the idea of "Show, don't tell." almost completely.

In general the show suffers from how rushed everything is likely due to its short 8 episode format, but instead of trying to fit the narrative to their limitations it seems like they're trying to cram all of this lore and information into these tiny 8 episodes and the result is a confusing mess.

Now I'm not familiar with Vicker's history but I would assume this is likely his first big project that has gotten this much attention. It feels like he's trying to go way too big and it shows. The show is almost hurt by it's own ambition to be this big sprawling narrative with deep lore and intricate detail when it probably would've been smarter to go for a much more straightforward or simple form of storytelling.

I feel like it would have been a better idea to instead filter things a bit more, knowing that we only have 8 episodes I feel like they should've cut out any unnecessary elements and tried to get everything across that they wanted to as concisely as possible. Like if something wasn't 100% necessary to the narrative it should probably be removed and things that ARE important to the narrative should've been more concisely presented.

In general the show seems to suffer from over ambition, despite that severe restriction. It feels like the 8 episode limit hurt it more than anything not to mention with how expensive the series is to produce I can see another reason why they would want to rush things and not take too much time to let things flow naturally.

I also see a lot of people praising Uzi and N's relationship as well as V's "Character development" but honestly I didn't see much of it at all. Again everything feels so rushed, from our perspective at most Uzi has only known N for a few days at most same for V, it almost feels like kind of whiplash from how she goes from being uncaring psycho to laying down her life for the others.

And while we're on the subject another thing that bothered me a lot about the series was it's seeming indecision on whether it wanted to be series or not, pretty much all of the time. Characters practically die left and right in the series and none of it is taken seriously most of the time infact the characters reactions are usually "lol, lmao even." most of the time so it felt really jarring and not in a good way when V's apparent death was treated so seriously and dramatically when before characters were dropping left and right without a care in the world.

I'm honestly not even sure what Doll's point for existing even is beyond her debut episode either since she doesn't really play much of a role beyond it or really do anything too interesting afterwards. Barring the trap that led to V's death she kind of just exists. Until she doesn't. I feel like she was a waste of potential like a lot of things in the show so far. She COULD have served as an interesting foil/mirror antagonist to Uzi but that potential was basically thrown into the trash.

Here's hoping that Season 2 is allowed to have better pacing because... yeah I'm a bit tired of the plot going a million miles at once.

During GlitchX it was hinted that Season 2 might happen and I recall Liam saying something implying that Season 1 is "Just the setup." so one can hope I suppose.

Me from August 2024: Yup, unfortunately we know now none of that is happening. Oof.

Anyway yeah, probably not going to be discussing it as frequently anymore. So if you were only here for my insane Murder Drones related ranting and want to unfollow now, that's perfectly fine. But I can't ignore my feelings any longer.

I'll still talk about it, but probably not with the same passion I used to. Again it sucks because I really wanted to like the series but... yeah they just keep fucking it up.

Oh yeah, everything else is fantastic though the animation, the voice acting, the soundtrack... I just wish the writing was on-par... I feel like the problem is they're being overly ambitious and trying to cram all of this lore and plot into these mere 8 episodes and it just isn't enough.

I may return to this to make an addition after Episode 8 finally drops on the off chance it somehow changes my opinion, but I doubt it...

Me from August 2024: So yeah, it didn't in fact it kind of went exactly how I expected and almost emphasized everything I said was wrong with the series. We got no answers, lots of flashy action and even a seemingly cliffhanger ending but none of the burning questions were answered and many dangling plot threads were just outright ignored...

I'd also like to take this time to once again emphasize I REALLY WANTED TO LIKE THIS SERIES, I can't stress that enough. Especially because I love robots and media focusing on robots since we don't get that too often. But the series just seem to keep disappointing me more and more with each episode. And it makes me sad. I'm disappointed because I cared and wanted to see the series improved and grow but frankly at a certain point it kind of just started freefalling.

My disappointment cannot be properly conveyed in words.

Feel free to leave thoughts and such I guess. But I'm probably the only idiot that feels this way.

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roydeezed · 9 months ago

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Dungeon Meshi Episode 8 shows us the heart of the series

If you're a new watcher, I feel like Episode 8 is the perfect episode to show off the series' charm as well as hook viewers. For people trying to get their friends into it, it's also the perfect episode to throw them into, to convince them. The art and animation is top notch, with characters being their goofiest selves. The fireside storytelling really lends to the shows cozy atmosphere. The worldbuilding rears it's head as well, with the instance about the guano and slime and the adventurers controlling the population putting into perspective the thought behind the series in a almost meta textual props from Ryoko Kui to herself. And we get to see the beating heart of the series that is Falin. Which is what I really want to talk about.

Falin is quite literally the beating heart of the show. The telltale heart that's been ripped out and is missing, but still beating somewhere within the walls of the dungeon. She is the reason for the journey itself and also how we see the redeemable, caring and loving side of our heroes. Laois as a big brother, Chilchuck as a friend, and Marcille as a... "friend". But despite all of that, she's gone for most of the story. It's not until episode 8 where we learn about her personality other than her being self sacrificing. But that's why it works. She haunts the narrative in so many different ways. In a masterful stroke of storytelling, Ryoko Kui was somehow able to meld gothic romance with a high fantasy adventure. Falin literally haunts the main characters through the architecture, the dungeon itself a constant reminder of their failure and the love the party and Falin have for each other. We see her as small, frail, and weak, but ultimately someone incredibly admirable for sticking to her sense of self, something the narrative rewards her for. This episode also calls back to this empty hole in the party. Falin knows healing magic. Falin knew about the slime, she might've known about the Undine. Falin was at harmony with many of the things they find themselves coming up against. There's also a sharp contrast between what I can only describe as Marcille's "failgirl" tendencies and her reputation as a prodigy with Falins reputation as a slacker and the constant invoking of her name in a manner akin to a savior, someone who would know what to do. This episode completes the picture, in a very early rough draft sense of the phrase, of Falin and the motivation behind the journey. They have to rescue her, yes, but she isn't a damsel in distress. Because they've already failed her. She's dead. All they can hope for is to be able to somehow revive her and maybe redeem themselves in the end. And she was a vital member of their party in so many ways that her missing presence is felt almost through the entire journey. Finally, that little part about Falin being lonely until Marcille showed up puts a bow on top of everything. Her loneliness in the past contrasts with how alone she must be in death, another specter of a thought that hangs over them.

P.S. I gotta gush about the worldbuilding cause I really didn't appreciate it the first time around that I read it cause watching that guano and slime scene animated made me flashback to my first D&D campaign where I'd given one of my players some magic beans. The dungeon started in a cave filled with bats before going on with proper cobblestone and torches and other dungeon fixtures. The bean player asked if there was any bat guano on the ground and scooped it up. When the climactic fight of the dungeon was near its end, the players having found a really great strategy to wear down the boss to his last few hit points, the bean player made a really high DC roll to throw both the guano and beans into the boss's mouth, killing him using the instant growth effect of the magic beans. At the time I was so impressed by what my player had done because I hadn't even considered what the guano could be used for until the fight happened. It was such a taken for granted feature that there's just normal dungeon stuff in a dungeon. You don't really ask about the mundane, even though they're there. It's kind of like a painted on door, if you wanted to interact with it, it opens up a whole room of new possibilities. And Ryoko Kui turned that whole premise of accepted fixtures into an amazingly vibrant world. Dungeon Meshi manages to explore the relationship of the world with itself while keeping a really cozy and kind heart and I feel like that can't be admired enough.

#dunmeshi #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #friend in quotes for those who read it

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jacenotjason · 3 months ago

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🎞️ can i choose all your ocs

this is gonna be a long post BUT SURE WHY NOT

🎞️ - If your oc existed in the series, in which episodes would they appear and what would change?

OKAY HERE WE GO

Jaxon:

Jaxon would be teased during Tender Treats, but not quite revealed. Sort of like a background or ARG appearance.

He would then have an "episode" called Jester's Court. It wouldn't be an actual episode since it would focus on John, Jack, and Patty instead of the Spooky Kids. Jaxon is lead by his delusions to the Eden Hospital in an attempt to bring Bob back. It's a parody of a shock film.

The episode would switch between the Blues Clues gang and Jaxon, drastically changing in tone when it does this. Jaxon's parts would be like unreality, with flickering hallucinations and a peak into his thoughts (background whispers) while he makes he way to the morgue.

Meanwhile the Blues Clues gang would be obviously more structured and whats actually happening, as they try to get to the exit without being spotted by Jaxon. Especially Jack.

Mars:

Mars would NOT be teased! Well I mean maybe a little. Like in a photograph.

Mars's episode would be called Red Ribbons! He wouldn't be revealed AT ALL for awhile. It seems like the episode revolves around Evermore, as he's in the thumbnail and Mars is just behind him, sort of a "you dont see him until after you watch the video"

I haven't quite decided what Mars's episode would be like.. I know that he'd be revealed with the Spookeez crashing into his legs and he'd slooooowly turn around and look down at them

def some cult stuff though. and mars and john would probably fight. lmfao

Tuktuka:

I don't actually know what purpose Tuk would serve in an episode. Maybe some sort of short-aesthetic thing where you get to watch his day. Patty leaves him at home and he spends the whole video trying to get to the hospital to see her. Tuktuka shenanigans !!

other than that hes not too important lore wise!

Danny:

Danny wouldn't have an ep to himself honestly

I HAVE ALWAYS IMAGINED HIM FACING OFF WITH BOB!!! In Tender Treats Bob would see him as an easy target, yknow blind, and attempts to kill Danny in his garage but you dont go into the kings throne room and execute him

Danny kicks his ass is what im saying

bob you got your ass kicked by a 5'3" blind dude how do you feel

Danny is involved with copwork though!! He'd show up during those segments sometimes

Noel:

Noel would obv be in Hollow Sorrows!

He'd just be in the background, really, floating around. Probably mostly present at the beginning, when Gregor talks to Michelle in the church.

They deserve a short of how they met tho teehee

Simon:

Simon would be the newscaster! He'd show up throughout the series probably, giving the news cast on Dexter being missing and Bob escaping and all that.

Would he have an episode to himself..? eh yeah sure why not

it would probably be called something like "Lights, Camera, Action!!" or... "Roll It!" yknow?

Can't really imagine what the premise would be. I have always imagined Simon tormenting someone on a bunch of screens, mostly John. John is kind of my go-to guy for situations. He is my John Doe. haha

also insert joke about Simon getting hooked up to a lie detector test and not giving any readings bc he speaks in the same tone all the time here

THATS ALLLL!!!

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babiebom · 10 months ago

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HATE THE TIME LORDS WTF

I’m watching the end of time (SPOILERS)

THEY SEEM LIKE SUCH ASSHOLES

Like knowing what we know about the timeless child and everything they’re the WORST

Like sorry to the tenth doctor I would’ve actually shot the time lord president without hesitation the second he said “you are diseased…be it a disease of our own creation” to the master

Like yeah I know he doesn’t kill the master but the whole pointing the gun at him I’m like ABSOLUTELY NOT

Like they actually made me feel bad for him…for BOTH of them. Like what do the time lord council do other than BE ASSHOLES? Given I haven’t seen original who idk what they do there but I DISLIKE THEM SO MUCH actually all they do is use people

I know he’s killed people and been an absolute menace and a monster but like :( they did this to him

Also I think it would’ve been really funny if everyone had his face but their normal bodies. So it’s the masters face and like tiddies if he was a woman or something. Like it’s literally just his face in their bodies instead of turning into him completely. Idk why it would be funnier to me.

Also him giving his life to save wilf makes me CRY like I’ve never seen the specials before bc I could never find where to watch them. Also this whole tantrum he’s throwing is throwing me off like BROTHER he honestly just saved someone and you’re throwing this tantrum IN FRONT OF HIM my feelings would be hurt but at the same time I understand because I too would throw a tantrum if I had to die

But maybe it’s bc I don’t really like hurting peoples feelings that I just would be like DAMN guess I’m gone then bc I wouldn’t like to hurt Wilfs feelings like when he says “you’re unimportant” like I KNOW he is just upset but PLEASE MY FEELINGS SIR.

Also THIS IS HOW IM FINDING OUT THIS IS HOW HE REGENERATES INTO ELEVEN???????????the website I watch these on DOESNT have any of the specials so I’ve had to go searching for them and WOWOWOWOWW

also I hate Martha and Mickey together I preferred her with the Milligan man. Like yes they’re cute together but I would’ve like her to stay with dude MISSGIRLPAYATTENTION nvm

He’s saving people?but in a sad way?

He’s staring at Jack??? Oh he’s hooking him up with someone OH ALONSY ALONSO OH

oh it’s miss nurse from the family of blood. I hate those episodes. WaS sHe hApPy iN tHe EnD? FUCK OFF

CUTE I DIDNT KNOW WE GOT TO SEE DONNA GET MARRIED OMFG

who is Heffery? Is that Donna’s dad? Bc if it is THATS SO CUTE BUT SAD?????THEY HADA WEDDING IN A GRAVEYARD?

oh it’s a church with a graveyard

Kinda poetic but OOF ghosties scare me also SAD BYEBYE FOCTOR

oh god it’s rose again

BUT ITS THE ORIGINAL ROSE I LOVE HER

THIS IS WHERE THE ICONIC GIF COMES FROM??????????

I FORGOT IT WAS 2005 IM LITERALLY 4 WHEN ALL THATS HAPPENING? (The first series I mean)

like it’s weird to think about where you would be in time in the universe during doctor who

Like I would literally be a child in Texas who probably missed EVERYTHING because who would destroy TEXAS? California I get but unless they realize how big Texas is they’d go for like Washington or something

AN OOD?

their faces are icky but they’re also cute? I love them except for when they’re evil <3

I also always read the Police public call Box as “police the box” and idky my brain is like NAUR the LETTERS ARE TOO CLOSE TOGETHER AND SMALLER IT MUST SAY THE???????

Goodbye ten I can’t believe that this is the first time I’m seeing him regenerate. I literally went through the entirety of nuwho and haven’t seen the Specials omfg. OH NAUR HE DOESNT WANNA GO PLS.

Omfg you destroy the tardis every time so rude HELLO ELEVEN MY LOVE HIS VOICE IS SO SQUEAKY I LOVE HIM

#doctor who #tenth doctor #eleventh doctor #dr who #dw #dw shitpost #dw spoilers #dw specials #series 4 #doctor who shitpost #doctor who spoilers #doctor who special #dr who spoilers #dr who special #Dr who shitpost #the master #the master doctor who #simm!master

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mix-of-headcanons · 1 year ago

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By pure chance, I discovered @castleaudios some time after basically binging through Willothewispaudio's Ashwood Grove series and I love that Glenwood gives me basically the same vibes.

So now it's time to write about Castle's characters that are my personal favourite. So far I'm very hooked with Genevieve, Beth, Miss Liza, Abby and Rose, and Claire's storylines (I also adore Chloe but I'm not sure if her storyline is over or if she's basically just out of the picture for a bit.)

Disclaimer: These are just personal headcanons that I came up with, of course Castle's word takes precedence over mine should there be any contradicting statements in any of my current or future posts.

Without further delay, let's get right to it!

Beth Headcanons:

With Episode Ties:

[Flashback Episode] Beautiful grabbing her tail sent her into a moment of frenzy because when shifted, she has a specific tickle spot just where her tail meets her spine that makes her go crazy.

Beautiful finds out about this weak spot one time after Beth teasingly pins them down beneath her by sitting on them in her shifted form.

The Seer tries to wiggle their way out, but to no success and instead tried desperately looking for any weak spots to exploit.

Accidentally scratched at the spot and Beth went limp before getting a hold of herself, proceeding to jump off of Beautiful as soon as she got her canine impulses back under control.

[Sick Seer Episode] Stays awake the whole night watching over Beautiful after successfully putting the Seer to sleep.

On a normal day Beth normally would fall right into sleep after Beautiful falls asleep, but whenever her mate is sick she just can't find it in herself to doze off-

Irrational "What-ifs" always going through her mind in times like these.

Only manages to squeeze in a few minutes of shut-eye just after Beautiful wakes up the next day under the guise of "Five more minutes."

[Tailoring Clothes Episode] Beth randomly gifts Beautiful a personalized clothing item after she gets their measurements the first time that the Seer visits the shop.

Crocheting is not her strongest suite, but she did her best to make a hooded poncho for Beautiful on their birthday. With the color palette consisting of the Seer's favorite colors.

Likes to make the clothes she sews for Beautiful be in the Seer's favorite colors.

Always manages to find inconspicuous spots to sew pockets in the said clothes.

On one April Fool's Day, she gifted Beautiful a set of underwear made with lace fabrics just because she was curious about what reaction the Seer would have after unboxing the gift.

[Helping You Sleep Episode] Beautiful found out the hard way that Beth has a weird quirk of balling up in her sleep so the blanket covers her whole body.

Beautiful is abruplty woken up from a dreamless sleep by the feeling of being sweaty.

They immediately throw the blanket off of them and Beth wakes up groggy, grumpy, and disoriented. "You fucked up my cocoon.."

Immediately fell back asleep after those words, without enveloping herself in the blanket.

Woke up feeling weird, and kept feeling weird throughout the day without being able to explain why, because she doesn't remember her blanket cocoon being rudely thrown open by Beautiful.

Beautiful never told her that they accidentally disrupted the cocoon ritual by instinct....

[Reverse Comfort Episode] Beth found that she calms down a lot quicker when Beautiful gently runs a hand through her hair while simultaneously scratching at her scalp with a light pressure.

Prefers to lay her head on Beautiful's lap instead of cuddling when she needs to be calmed down, or reassured.

Sometimes when she's having those days where she's unable to pinpoint what she's upset with, she'll ask Beautiful to read to her.

Beth never stops being shy about asking them to read to her.

No Episode Ties:

Beth may not have a sweet tooth, but she has a thing for savory foods like cinnamon buns, or a chicken burger with just a bit of kick.

Although she likes mild spice, she cannot under any circumstances stomach real spicy food.

She tried for Beautiful once, and ended up spending more time in the bathroom than she'd care to admit.

Has a very wide array of liked music genres

Listens to Lana Del Rey, Conan Grey, Twice, Dreamcatcher, Jazz, Pop-punk, Classical, and sometimes movie or series soundtracks.

Really doesn't vibe with overly convoluted Techno, Phonk, or EDM though.

Has a few Disney guilty pleasure songs known by heart.

Loves I'm Still Here from Treasure Planet

Her and Claire would sing the song like a duet when they have a moment to bond with just themselves.

#castleaudios #castle audios #castleaudios beth #Beth castle audios #Werewolf #Seer #glenwood

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happypopcornprincess · 11 months ago

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I just finished watching the first episode of Thai BL series The Sign and...

(Spoilers ahead for ep 1)

Episode 1 : Best pilot ep in any BL ever???

First up.

Major... MAJOR props to the stunt team and the fight choreography! like, the first episode had me absolutely hooked for the plot. There was not a single dull moment the entire episode. And the way they introduced the main characters and their traits was just... chef's kiss.

also, the color grading and cinematography 😭😭😭I am currently a beginner in graphics and designing and let me tell you, to get the color grading perfect is absolutely insane. Most series miss in the pilot episode and gradually get better in the upcoming ones, but goddamn dude! this is absolutely insane how every single shot was so well planned and shown!

The Characters!!!

Billy and Babe were perfectly cast in the role of Tharn and Phaya ON GOD the intro we got for these characters! My writer brain is having a field day and my cinephile heart is going insane!

Also, I loved how this is giving spy thriller vibes while also handling the supernatural aspects of the series.

the way I jumped out of my seat watching the giant snake lingering in the water i was NOT expecting that!

I've had these two for like... 20 mins? and I'll protect them at all costs like They will be my couple goals for 2024 fr fr!

I smell... REINCARNATION!!!

like...

Anyways... can't wait to see more of this, I've got this feeling it's gonna be a good one fr! I am HYPED AF!!!

#the sign #the sign the series #happypopcornprincess live blog #billybabe #thai bl #thai drama #idol factory #the sign bl

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psychogirlfriendandsupervillain · 1 year ago

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Walk of Shame Pride

Benny Watts x Genderneutral!Reader (at least I tried to make them readable as any gender)

Content warnings: Flirting, 18+, smut, dirty talk, constant switching between sexual tension and sarcastic flirting because it’s my brand now apparently, unnecessary lore.

Disclaimer: I don’t live in New York, have never been in New York, Google maps and random generators are what you get ok? I also had already started writing this before watching the two last episodes and so refuse to change his apartment to be accurate in this either. I might next time.

Summary: You leave one hookup and find yourself invited to another.

Word count: Looking like it’s gonna be 2k. (It is not.) 4k

A/N: Clearly I feel some type of way about Benny Watts. Inspired by deciding to pull up Walkashame by Meghan Trainor and Walk of Shame by P!nk (which is like my favorite) while thinking about Benny.

It’s five to seven when Benny pulls on his coat and unlocks the door to his apartment. The rest of the house lay quiet, not too surprising for a Saturday morning. As he puts the key back in the lock a door slams a bit further down the too-bright corridor, catching his attention.

Looking over his shoulder he sees someone standing with their hand still on the handle, hooking the other shoe on their foot. They’re far too dressed up for this time of day, but Benny also doesn’t think they’re dressed for the office. What was probably adjusted to perfection the night before now hangs uneven, covered in wrinkles, bunching up in several places.

Benny’s eyes flicker up to their face as they start heading down the corridor in his direction. He can’t tell if the traces of makeup are from the start of the night or the end, maybe somewhere in between. There are signs of a sleepless night around their eyes and they look…not tired, but like they had a fun night, a self-satisfied smile resting easy on their lips. They run a hand over their head, and Benny feels entirely too warmly dressed. The heat only gets worse as they come three, two, one door away, and as they pass him, he can’t help himself.

“Fun night?” His voice is nonchalant and steadier than his pulse when he glances over his other shoulder, watching them stop a few feet away. Then they turn around and his heartbeat almost drowns out your words as you smile, undaunted.

“Yeah, it was.” You don’t know why anyone would be up at this hour on a weekend, much less dressed and heading out. He’s wearing a leather coat and a hat which would make him blend in as an extra in a western movie, although the dark color palette lends itself more to him being cast as the outlaw. “How was yours?”

“I thought it was good then” He matches your smile, and even at this distance you can see his dark eyes sparkle. “but now I’m starting to think I missed out on something. Whoever you just came from has my night beat.”

You open your mouth with an amused frown, taking a second before responding.

“Don’t you have a job to go to? Where else are you going so early?”

He raises his eyebrows with an amused smile.

“You’re going somewhere too.”

You roll your eyes in pretend annoyance.

“I need to go home and change.”

“Want to, yes.” His eyes pass over you. “Need to, absolutely not.” He looks back up and you suppress your amusement to raise your eyebrows at him.

“Are you done? Can I go now?” You gesture down the hall as if to say that there are places you’d rather be than flirting with an attractive stranger.

He opens his mouth, closes it, and thinks for a moment. You cross your arms.

“One second.” He pats his coat pockets, coming up with a pencil and a piece of paper. Using the door in front of him as support he quickly scribbles something on the slip, takes a step back, and holds it out against you between two fingers. You look at his held-out hand, then back at him. He shakes the paper for you to take it, eyes on yours, and you give in, pulling the note from him. Unfolding it you read a series of numbers.

You fold it back up, eyeing him. “I’m not a prostitute, you know.”

He makes something akin to a shrug and puts his hands in his pockets.

“Didn’t necessarily think you were, wouldn’t care if that was the case either.” He sounds sincere enough.

“Okay, then why?” You tilt your head and eye him with amused suspicion, putting the paper away on your person.

He takes a breath, rocking once on the balls of his feet, darting his eyes to the ceiling and back to you.

“ ‘Cause you’re attractive and seem like fun.” He does a small gesture with his head. “Call me sometime.”

You smile and turn, calling over your shoulder. “You wish!” There’s a smile audible in his voice when his answer reaches you.

“Yeah, I do.”

It’s two minutes past eight when you press the last digit in a smoke infused telephone booth outside a club on the next Friday evening. The line to the door is not horrendous yet, but it’s long enough for you to wonder why you decided to step out of it. As you wait for the call to go through you remind yourself of why you did: because he most likely won’t be home to answer it and part of you wants to give him the chance to get out of having this conversation.

The line clicks.

“Benny.” The voice on the other side answers, matching your memory of the guy you spoke to in the corridor after leaving a hookup. Well, he definitely gave you the right number.

“Hi” You almost start laughing. “You gave me your number and told me to call you.”

There’s a second’s pause before you hear him respond, clearly as equally amused as you.

“Just so I don’t offend anyone, is this the person from the hallway?”

You roll your eyes, holding the phone closer to hear over the soccer chant starting up in the line.

“Wow, you meet that many people like that? I’m glad you remember.” Kicking up your foot you lean back against the glass wall, pressing the receiver to your ear.

“I just want to make sure I don’t accidentally accuse the wrong person of looking so good when leaving someone else’s place in the morning that I wanted to pull them into my bed and continue the job.” His voice dips and you feel it in your stomach, looking to the door to check that no one is waiting for their turn. There’s a pause and you can hear your heartbeat in the ear not pressed to the phone. “You called me…” He lightly prompts and you find the thread you lost again.

“Are you busy?”

“Would it be pathetic if I said I’m at home hoping for you to call?” He’s smiling again, his accent smooth around the words. “Have been all week actually.”

“Every evening?” You laugh. “That is pathetic.”

“No, every whole day.” Laughter threatens behind his words too.

“How have you not been fired?”

“I’m a chess player, I don’t work like that.” There’s a shuffle on the other side. “I go to tournaments, competitions, but other than that I practice at home.”

“Wait” That connects some previously unknown dots and you smile. “Benny, you’re not Benny Watts, are you?” Even as you ask you know you’re right, and he can tell that, because there’s an immediate addition of smugness when he answers.

“Oh, you know who I am?” You can visualize the face he’s making, raised eyebrows and self-assured smile.

“Don’t get cocky now, I read the newspaper like everyone else.”

“Yeah, but it’s not everyone who reads those articles.”

You roll your eyes at his teasing tone, trying to chase the smile from your voice. “Back to the point, I’m outside Harmony in Brooklyn, wanted to know if you wanted to join.”

“I just told you I’m a chess player and have been home every night for a week, what gave you the impression that I go to clubs?” He laughs.

“I have faith that you have a vivid social life, I believe in you.” You tease.

“It’s between Bushwick and Jefferson, right?” You hum affirmative. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“Good, see you by the bar.” The phone clicks and you hang up the receiver, heading back outside to join the ever-growing line.

Fifteen minutes later you see him enter and less than a minute later he’s standing next to you, his face slightly lit up by the reflection bouncing off the counter.

“What are you drinking?” Benny gestures to the glass in front of you, a slice of lemon floating on clear liquid.

“Sparkling” Taking a sip you judge his reaction, wondering if he’ll be a jerk about it, but he just shrugs, ordering the same of the bartender who has stopped in front of you both. With the glass in his hand, he turns around to look out over the crowd, leaning back against the counter.

“This your usual place?” Eyes flicker over to you as he lifts his glass to his lips. You turn to lean against the counter too.

“It’s one of them.” Previously called The Trial, now under new management, Harmony is a bare redbrick room lit up only by the display case of bottles behind the bar. Its main crowd is people fresh out into the working life, the music is the same as the Top 100 on the radio and you’re fairly sure the custodian is overworked and underpaid for the job they do. You’d been on the fence when the place was sold, having been a regular at the steel barred counter and blank polished dance floor of its old existence, but two visits were enough for you to decide that you didn’t mind the changes. “Not your style?”

“I’ve been here too many times for it not to be.” Benny turns like he just realized something. “What is your name?”

You cut off the laugh about to spill out and answer, continuing: “You came all the way here without knowing my name, that’s commitment.” Benny looks away, failing to hide an amused smile as he scans the room. You on the other hand don’t hold back your laugh, enjoying how he’s giving an answer by not responding. “So, how’d you get into chess playing?” This time he laughs.

“I thought you said you read the paper.” There’s something adoring in his eyes when he looks at you, tone and smile teasing.

“I must have forgotten that part.” You put down your empty glass behind you, noting the way he follows your movements. The song switches to something with more bass and Benny downs the rest of his drink. Pushing off the counter you stand in front of him, his eyes falling to your shoes and dragging up to meet yours. “Feel like leaving?”

He smiles, one hand coming up to adjust the hat on his head.

“If you’re ready.” He lets you lead the way between groups of excited friends and even more excited new acquaintances until you reach the cold air outside.

You’re ready to start walking but Benny steps out into the street and with a wave and a sharp whistle that bounces between the buildings he has hailed a cab. Holding the door open he gestures with his head for you to get in, letting you use his free hand for support as you sit down, scooting further in to give him space. Benny flicks his coat so it doesn’t get in the way when he sits down, pushing forward to give the driver the address.

He leans back into the seat, his upper body closer to you, his hand supporting his chin as he looks out the front window, before it falls to lightly rest on your knee.

The building looks just like it did last time, dark and dormant. Following Benny up the stairs you feel your heart beat a little faster. No one meets you in the stairwell, nor in the corridor as you walk down the row of doors. When the door clicks open he holds it for you, smile tugging on the corner of his mouth.

“Hungry?” Benny pulls the door closed behind you, meeting your confused glance with an amused look of sincereness.

“Sure” You laugh a little, pulling off your jacket. “what’d’ya have in mind?”

He plops his hat on a hook by the door and heads further into the apartment, his voice reaching you from behind a corner where the kitchen must lie. “I got eggs and toast.”

You look over the sofa, taking a step closer and spotting the started game of chess next to a beer bottle laying on the coffee table. Scanning the room a little further you find the phone, on the small table on the other end of the couch to where the chess board is, and you grin.

“Sounds great.” You call back, walking to the kitchen and leaning against the wall. Benny has thrown his coat over the back of a chair and rolled up his sleeves, putting a frying pan on the stove as you enter.

“Sit down.” He gestures to the table and turns back to his task. You slide into a chair as he cracks an egg into the pan. “Scrambled or sunny side?”

“Scrambled.” You glance at your watch, leaning your arms on the table. The toaster makes a noise. “Want any help?”

Benny opens a cabinet.

“No, I’m good.” Some short minutes later he clicks off the stove. A plate slides in front of you and a glass clicks against the table.

It’s good, really good, almost as good as he looks sitting across from you, sleeves rolled up, blond hair pushed back. The first three buttons of his shirt are undone, several chains laying against the t-shirt underneath. Light catches in his rings as he eats, tongue swiping over his lower lip.

You flick your eyes away when Benny looks at you, a bad habit that you thought you had broken. Those lectures of if someone catches you looking, look away immediately overriding your personal opinion that if you were interested in someone, you should be clear about it. It’s a reflexive response, and you curse yourself out in your head, you’ve not reacted like that in years.

He’s still looking, barely holding back a grin, tongue flicking out, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. Eyes flicker down to your unfinished food and back up to give you a meaning look. You raise your eyebrows, giving him a look back. He holds your gaze, and breaks, looking away with evident failure to not look smug as all hell while you resume eating, this time standing your ground and continuing to look at him.

After you both finish Benny takes the plates before you have a chance to move, leaving you to lean against the end of the table while he puts them in the sink.

Movement shakes you from the slight trance you put yourself in looking at his back while the water was running. It takes Benny two more steps, which you follow with great interest, until he’s in front of you, closeness making you push back into the table. Not really blocking you physically, but just the fact that he is standing there makes moving seem like an extremely undesirable alternative. Palms resting against the solid wood behind you, you’re in no rush to do anything else than look into his dark eyes, feeling like if this was a movie, a fuse would break due to the electricity in the air.

Then his tongue wets his lower lip, your eyes flicker down, you lift yourself onto the table at the same time as he invades your personal space even further, hands pulling your hips back forward, pushing you against him in the same moment that your lips connect with his.

Your thighs lock him in place, keeping him close even though leaving seems to be the last thing on his mind with the way lips move against yours. It’s like he’s been starving for hours, not eaten just five minutes ago; then again, maybe that wouldn’t be far off. Seven days is a lot for someone who is currently pressing his whole body against you, pulling in your tongue to envelope it with his own. There’s a hand on your back and one at your side, pulling as much as they are caressing you.

Benny’s hips roll against you, sending your eyes rolling back at the friction.

“Don’t stop.” Your hands tug at his sides to get him closer, smile pressing against your lips as he complies with fervor.

Devouring you, Benny almost distracts you from your position until he pushes you back and gets on the table with you, placing a knee between your legs and pushing off the floor. When he leans back down the pressure of his thigh between yours sends sparks up your spine. A sound rolls off your tongue onto Benny’s as you push up against him, arms bracing against his back to pull him down.

Hot air mix between your mouths, letting up only for a second before connecting again, swallowing the sounds the other one makes. You reach up to undo the rest of the buttons in Benny’s shirt, whining when he pushes down harder against you. The hand not holding him up runs down your side, starting to free you of your clothing too as you flick one side of the shirt off his shoulder.

Next the t-shirt gets halfway up his body before your fingers tangle in his chains, lightly tugging him down, earning a heavy drag of his hips as his tongue slides into your mouth. He tears off you for only a second to rip the shirt fully off.

In the back of your head you try to remember if there are buildings facing this one and if there are windows, but that thought gets stuck at the station when everything save your underwear falls on the kitchen floor beside the table. Quickly pulling his belt from his pants you let him go. Before he disposes of the jeans, he pulls a square from one of the pockets, and you can’t help smiling at how you both came to that club prepared.

You sit up, leaning on one hand to watch Benny roll the rubber over his freed cock, palm coming away glistening wet in the light. His shoulders give away the deep breaths he is taking, but even without that, his eyes, running along the floor up to meet yours, would have shown his desire and unwillingness to control it more than you need him to. You let your own eyes run over his skin, sending an almost unnoticeable shiver through his body.

Benny comes back to you, using the free space next to you on the table to get back up, pulling you down over him as he lies back against the wood. You kick a leg over his, as a hand at the back of your head implores for your lips to meet Benny’s. The other hand runs down between your legs, stroking places that makes your eyes flutter and heat roar in your stomach. Your increased breathing seems to encourage his hand to move faster, the one keeping your lips against his running down to push against your back.

The friction between you causes a sound in the back of his throat. You can’t tell if he is embarrassed or more turned on because his mouth grows more insistent against yours. The hand on your back pushes down again, his hips move up, as does another sound from his lips. The hand between your legs drifts down and you straighten your back, despite frustrated sounds from Benny. Setting one hand on his heaving chest for support, your other hand seeks out the one Benny removed from you. You close your hand over his, following the slow strokes he is doing over his cock. Your eyes meet his. His breath hitches and his hand eases up, letting you take over. After a few more strokes you still your hand and lower your hips to meet it. It’s not quick, but Benny’s labored breathing and tremors makes it worth it.

Your thighs shake with the effort to make slow focused movements and not get distracted by the signal of every pleasurable nerve ending being touched by his cock inside you. It doesn’t help that Benny’s mouth keeps falling open, sounds that set your skin on fire tumbling off his tongue. Worse yet, his eyes sparkle every time he opens them to look at you, like a lost man looking at salvation. It sends skitters of fire along your back, pushes air out of your lungs in similar sounds to those he makes. You lower yourself again and his cock strokes against a sensitive spot. When you open your eyes Benny’s pleased look tells you he heard that. Oh, did he hear that.

His eyes locked on your face, his hands help you move your hips as thrills dance up your spine.

“That’s it, use me, just like that.” His soothing voice urges, seemingly without Benny noticing the words falling from his mouth. He’s too focused watching your eyes flutter, dragging your hips down just a little harsher to hear a sigh escape you. Your thighs clench around him at the feeling. You start to do it again, but Benny’s hands are already working to help you through the motion. He drags along the same spot and you feel rushes of pleasure going through your body. “Take what you need from me.”

You’ve never been one to deny someone a request like that. Benny lets out a whimper as your hips start to move faster and you’re not sure how much longer he’ll last. He is flushed red and his every breath is a moan, his hips bucking to meet yours. His cock strikes true every time, pleasure washing over you again and again in heady waves. Sparks set of wildfires in your stomach that spread to every limb and meeting those in Benny’s hands. Your thighs are shaking worse now, especially when Benny runs his hands over them, gently but burning the skin in his path. It’s so much and so good, and Benny’s eyes are alight with all the stars in the sky.

“So good.” He responds to the praise with a moan that vibrates into your body, dark eyes locked on yours. He won’t make it much longer, but he’ll try. You grind your hips down against his and you feel the wave threatening to crash. “Just like that.”

His breath hitches when you push all the way down, and you feel your stomach flip. Then it rushes over you. Benny curses and gasps your name as he finally falls from his balance point. Every stroke is fire, like you are burning and taking Benny with you. You push closer as you feel him shake, sending pride and pleasure through you. His hands guides you onto him over and over, even continuing a few times after he is finished. Then his hands fall to his sides and he closes his eyes. You look at him with a proud smile as he catches his breath. He puts his arm over his eyes.

“Yeah, definitely better than my last Friday.”

-Morning after-

It’s half past nine when you have finished your coffee and eggs. Benny insisted on giving you food before you left, maybe just so he could make you sit at the table again. You wonder if he’ll think about this every time he sits at it now.

You step outside and give him a look when he follows.

“Let me walk you down.” He shrugs and locks the door while you wait.

“I think I can find it myself; I know where it is.” You tease as you start walking.

“Just want to make sure you get hold of a cab.” He follows you down the stairs and holds open the door out to the street. Then he points to the buzzer labeled Watts. “That’s how you get up, for next time.”

You laugh.

“Next time, huh?” Benny shrugs, turning around into the street just as the smile breaks through. His sharp whistle stops a cab rolling past. Benny opens the cab door for you.

“Next time.”

#benny watts x reader #benny watts #smut #fanfiction #the queen's gambit #I had a note in the document that said how down are we for Benny getting fucked on his own kitchen table?#"I think the likely hood is growing by the minute #and I'm very glad we did

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telomeke-bbs · 1 year ago

Note

On my third re-watch of Bad Buddy, I've been doing a bit more reading of the comments on YouTube, which I presume will disappear if the series is removed now that it's going to Viki.

I notice from the YouTube comments at least some people think PatPran were having sex at least as early as episode 8, while I took the start of their sex life as episode 11 which was when they made it clear.

Given the lack of R scenes in the series (no complaints, if it's a great series I'm happy either way) it's hard to say for sure. I tend to be on the literal side so need more direct indications that a sex scene is about to occur or has just occurred. I'm wondering where the clues might be that others are tuning into and I've missed.

If you've already written about this please feel free to link.

SEX??? IN MY BBS???!!! 👀

Hi dear friend @pandasmagorica! 😍 You're so right that Bad Buddy doesn't show us any of PatPran's lovemaking directly, and like you I didn't miss it at all…

But before I go any further, I should insert a trigger warning here for the sex-averse among anybody else who might be reading this – sex talk incoming! (I'll be avoiding some of the coarser language as that's not my style, but I will be mentioning some details of man-on-man sex if I have to…) So minors please stay away!

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Like so much of BBS (e.g., the actual relationship between Ming and Dissaya in high school, Ming's relationship with his father, Pat's descent into his gangster era after his high school rupture with Pran, the foundations of Wai and Pran's friendship), Pat and Pran having sex is one aspect of their relationship that was alluded to but not shown to us graphically onscreen.

For me this was in keeping with the narrative style of Bad Buddy as a whole (in which we the viewers had to fill in some gaps ourselves), as well as its preference to focus on the emotional dynamics of their love story, rather than showing us every physical manifestation of their liaison.

On my initial watch I too thought that PatPran's first physical coupling only happened in Ep.11, during their honeymoon at the Zero Waste Village. I settled into this conclusion primarily because we weren't shown any overt depiction of the boys hooking up physically – and also because of one moment at Ep.9 [3‌/4]:

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.9 [3‌/4] 5.38 – Pat and Pran chorus "Not yet" at Korn, when asked if they'd been having sex

When Korn is made to wait before being admitted into Pran's apartment by a nearly-naked Pat – only to see a disheveled Pran in bed, and the bedclothes all awry – he assumes (at Ep.9 [3‌/4] 5.36) that Pat and Pran's sexy time was the reason for the delay. But his assumption is met with an indignant "Not yet" chorused by both Pat and Pran in unison, and this to me (at the time of my first watch) was telegraphing the message that the boys were resolutely putting off sex until they were both ready for it later.

But there's really nothing to suggest why they should be doing this (other than maybe Pran getting a case of the ick whenever Pat gets too sappily romantic and/or touchy-feely – understandable, and certainly not insurmountable for one so much in love).

And for me this view of a sexless, virginal Pat and Pran pre-Ep.11 didn't gel with the other details that became apparent on subsequent re-watches. It's possible the "yang" that Pat and Pran chorused (at Ep.9 [3‌/4] 5.38) may have an affective sense of negation that is somewhat different from the plain "no" or "not yet" suggested by the subtitles (though I haven't been able to find any confirmation of it online). But anyway I now think that they were just telling Korn that he'd caught them right before the main event (which is supported by Korn's embarrassment, and also Pat saying he wouldn't mind being late for dinner with the guys if he could just get a "reward" from Pran, at Ep.9 [3‌/4] 4.11 and 4.27). 😂

There are also some other clues pointing to the likelihood that Pat and Pran were not waiting to indulge in the physical side of their love, well before the clearly pre- and post-coital scenes that we see onscreen later in Episodes 11 and 12.

The Sexual Tension: From early on Pat and Pran had a track record of getting right up in each other's personal space, in tableaux of their own making absolutely saturated with sexual tension. These two, but especially Pat, demonstrated time and again that not only were they comfortable getting physically close to each other, there seemed to be an unspoken need to do so as well.

Pran deep in his crush was fighting it all the way (witness him pushing Pat away all the time), while Pat's motivations were a bit less clear (and yet he was almost always the one to initiate close encounters of the physical kind).

Some examples of this–

Ep.1 [3‌/4] 1.13 (when they were hiding from Korn, Mo and Chang in the side alley of the faculty Chemical Room):

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Ep.2 [1‌/4] 6.23 (in the toilet cubicle, when Pat "forgot" he'd not washed his hands before clamping it on Pran's mouth in some kind of an unconscious sublimation – Pran wasn't making any sound and his mouth was closed, but Pat couldn't help himself anyway 😂):

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Ep.2 [4/4] 11.21 (when they both realized, however subconsciously, that their competitive grappling at the apartment viewing had begun to take on strangely erotic overtones – patently obvious to all, even the hapless real estate agent who inadvertently burst in on them):

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Ep.4 [4/4] 3.41 (the rugby clinch, leading to Pat's line "If you hug me this tight, you might as well take me as your boyfriend" – sexual and other significance explained here):

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And of course Ep.5 [4/4] 11.53 (The Kiss, that literally and figuratively sucked away all oxygen from people on either side of the screen – their yearning, physical hunger for each other was already so evident each time it bubbled to the surface, but of course its explosive climax was when they both admitted it overtly to each other, during this Epic Rooftop Kiss at the end of Ep.5):

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BBS actually shows us Pat staying over at Pran's apartment and sharing the one bed in Ep.8 (at Ep.8 [1‌/4] 1.28. Nong Nao's presence in Pran's bed means that Pat must have been there before he got up to make breakfast; at Ep.8 [1‌/4] 5.34 Pat himself confirms that he spends nights at Pran's, "rehearsing" certain aspects of the Kwan and Riam play, in its BL reincarnation).

Given how much sexual tension is on display from early on, it seems only logical to me that there must have been some rumpy-pumpy hanky-panky going on below the waist, even though we don't get to see it onscreen. Indeed, Pa tells us as much with her observation on the morning after another such "rehearsal": 😂

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.8 [1‌/4] 5.46

Nong Nao as Agent of (Sexual) Subterfuge: In my opinion, another big tell that Pat and Pran were already doin' the deed (or at least going beyond second base) is even earlier, at Ep.7 [2/4] 5.36, when we learn that Pat had left Nong Nao behind in Pran's apartment.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.10 [1‌/4] 8.53

We know that Pat hugs Nong Nao to fall asleep (he says so at Ep.4 [4/4] 11.30 and Ep.7 [2/4] 5.46). But the reason behind this is that Pat needs Nong Nao – his Linus blanket – to calm his fears when he's psychologically vulnerable, alone with his own thoughts and dreams (analyzed here). It doesn't make sense that he would be carrying Nong Nao around with him outside and away from his own bed, unless it was for sleepy-time comfort – so how did Rotten Little One end up in Pran's apartment?

Pat wouldn't have brought Nong Nao over to Pran's unless he knew he'd be staying the night. For example, we see this when he sneaks over to spend the night with Pran at Ep.12 [3‌/4] 4.37 – though why he'd need to kimono-cloak himself with the bedclothes like that is a little beyond me:

Maybe this is BBS emphasizing Nong Nao's role as Pat's security blanket, swaddling him in protection from his night-time fears? 🤷‍♂️ (Or is Pat naked under those bedcovers? His lust for Pran is so great he doesn't want to waste even the few seconds it would take to strip once he's with his beloved? 🤣)

Anyway, Nong Nao left behind in Pran's apartment suggests that Pat was already sleeping there as early as Ep.7. It could be possible that it was for other reasons, but I refuse to kid myself – we're talking about two young men deep in the heady flush of hormonal (and fully reciprocated) teenage love here. Given their pre-existing propensity for physical closeness (that mirrored their emotional intimacy), I can't imagine Pat and Pran would be keeping their hands off each other in private for long.

So when Pat left Nong Nao behind in Ep.7 (a ploy of course, to get Pran over for more), I really don't think he had been spending time in Pran's apartment just so they could study building construction together… any more than they would be chastely reading scriptures or practicing quilting. 😂

And of course when Pran went over to Pat's apartment to return Nong Nao, the situation soon devolved into a mutual seduction exercise that even referenced the passionate Ep.5 Rooftop Kiss (Pran's "Do you still want us to be friends?" at Ep.7 [2/4] 9.59).

‌On my re-watch, I think the competitive roughhousing we witness in Ep.7 [2/4] is actually Pat and Pran's own version of foreplay prior to actual intercourse – and they most certainly would have gone there had they not been interrupted by Pa and her wayward bladder (hence their guilty looks when she bursts in on them; they definitely had almost been caught in flagrante delicto, which Pat then has to sublimate away with bare-bodied crunches while Pran abandons the food he'd brought – and we know food is also often a stand-in for sex in Thai BL, referenced for example at Ep.12 [2/4] 11.54).

Food and Sex: Another scene where food was used as a metaphor for sex, that also suggests Pat and Pran had already been gettin' it on well before we see them in the afterglow of their Ep.11 honeymoon passions, took place during their cookout with Junior by the beach (scene starting at Ep.11 [2/4] 2.43):

Laced with lots of meaningful glances between Pat and Pran, the dialogue was peppered with several suggestive lines (mostly from Pat, but also acknowledged with knowing – if rueful – smiles from Pran) hinting at more adult meanings within the word play (all thankfully opaque to young Junior):

"All I do is eat" – the verb "to eat" in Thai (กิน/gin) is also slang for "to consume (someone) sexually";

"…I do many things for my lover too" – suggesting that Pat and Pran were already having sex;

"Like what?"… "Wait until you're older" – Pat shut down Junior's line of questioning, because the subject was unmissably adult (to the adults in the room).

And Junior's innocent comment "You don't have to pound it so hard. Cover it with your hand – it's spattering" also got Pran chuckling silently, because it coincidentally fit with his and Pat's subtextual zingers about their sex life even while all of that hidden discourse was flying above Junior's head (and rightly so too).

Pat also points a cucumber at Pran while admonishing Junior, further upping the innuendo quotient – basically his answer to "Tell me you're talking about sex without telling me you're talking about sex" 😂. (The Thai word for cucumber – แตงกวา/dtaaeng gwaa – is also slang for penis; see this Wiktionary entry linked here: ภาษาปาก, สแลง – อวัยวะเพศชาย.)

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [2/4] 3.49

It could be possible that Pat and Pran had sex the night before, but I think that's highly unlikely given how exhausted they were after their bus journey to the beach. (Plus they were expected to be up early enough to earn their keep helping the fishermen.) I suppose you could read Pat's hijinks at the cookout as him setting the scene for their nuptial relations to come, i.e., that they hadn't done it before but were heading to it now, which was my asexual take on it the first time around watching this. But this doesn't align with what Pat and Pran tell us on the beach later, and I changed my mind on subsequent re-watches. 😉

Beer and "Kisses" on the Rocks: When Pat and Pran have their heartfelt tête-à-tête on the rocky breakwater at Khao Tao Beach (scene starting at Ep.11 [3‌/4] 9.50), there is a line of questioning that confirms (for me at least) they not only had been intimate before, but that they'd also been alternating their roles in bed.

What they say is perhaps open to some degree of interpretation, but I can't see how it could mean anything else…

When Pat says at Ep.11 [3‌‌/4] 12.50 "Here comes the last question. Can I kiss you?" it seemed straightforward enough at first viewing – another of BBS's nods at consent perhaps, with the boys turning quaintly Victorian about physical contact. But it's discordant with the energies we've seen them display before – at the Chem. Room alleyway, in the toilet cubicle, and on the rooftop in Ep.5. It's true the first two times Pat invaded Pran's personal space because he was trying to save him; and the third time he gave ample notice of his intentions. But the boys had never been coy with each other, so Pat suddenly turning into a bashful knight wordily asking for permission to kiss really makes no sense.

Then, however, Pran's response of "Isn't it my turn?" really puts Pat's question into context, and I think it qualifies as a lightbulb moment that illuminates an aspect of their hitherto mostly hidden sex life.

Yes, it is possible to read Pran's insistence ("No. It's my turn") as the boys simply taking turns at being the first to initiate lip-to-lip action, but even my ever-forgiving fan theorist's brain finds that too contrived an explanation. Plus PatPran's kisses are hardly about energy in one direction only – since each gives as good as he receives (e.g., at Ep.5 [4/4] 11.53 and Ep.11 [3‌/4] 13.27).

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [3‌/4] 13.33 – is it really possible to take turns when doing this?

All this talk about taking turns really makes no sense – unless it's not actually about kisses.

My read is that the word จูบ/juup (whose dictionary definition is to kiss) is really PatPran's codeword for whoever gets to top the other during sex (like the verb baiser in French, which does similar semantic double duty). This also tells us that our two versatile scamps, both alike in dignity, had been alternating roles in bed like two gentlemen Romeos indeed… and trust our pernickety Pran to be keeping a record of who did what the last time! 😂

The fact that they have a working system in place with the rules of engagement already defined (and that Pat is seeking to deviate from) suggests that this isn't something novel that they just came up with in the days before.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [3‌/4] 14.00 – prelude to a "juup"

And getting graphical in an aside here for a moment – since prostate orgasms are typically far more intense than the other kinds men can experience, what we're also seeing here is Pat and Pran jostling to see who can give the other the gift of greater pleasure (and in doing so deriving a substantial measure of it for themselves too). It's consistent with the competitive drumbeat to which their couplehood thrums and marches, and is also a microcosm of their relationship as a whole – that whenever one of them lets his lover win, he gets to win as well too. 🤩

Anyway, Pran flat-out refuses to give up his turn (Ep.11 [3‌/4] 13.15), and the idea that kiss = top is borne out by his questions as the big spoon later – "Was I good?... How much do I get, out of ten?" (Ep.11 [3‌/4] 14.55 and 15.07).

I have more information about this exchange in my write-up linked here – Pat's sign language response really also points very strongly to the conclusion that Pran did top Pat on their honeymoon night. 🥰

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [3‌/4] 15.25 – a satisfied Pat uses wordless symbolism to tell expert sign-reader Pran that his performance the night before deserves a top score of 10

So based on this record of alternating bedroom roles, I now truly do believe Pat and Pran had been having sex from way before (maybe even as early as Ep.7), not only going the whole distance but also taking turns equally at giving and receiving. Pran's insistence on his "turn" wouldn't have made much sense otherwise. And this was BBS also putting paid to the fascination some fans have for the formulaic stereotyping about seme/uke and top/bottom roles in BL.

P.S. Now in spite of all that I've written above, I do concede that a lot of it is based on inference and clue-reading, and that it's still possible to read Pat and Pran as doing nothing more than making out and heavy petting, right up until Ep.11. A possible reason might be a reluctance on Pran's part to go all the way (perhaps BBS playing with the blushing maiden trope?), given how much exasperation he shows whenever Pat turns clingy (e.g., at Ep.9 [2/4] 5.21, Ep.9 [3‌/4] 4.29 and Ep.11 [1‌/4] 15.19, though it's also evident he's always charmed by Pat's antics despite himself). The boys also could have begun taking turns in their matrimonial bed only after they got to the Zero Waste Village, though I don't see how they could have had the time for more than a single go (especially since they were all tired out by the family drama of Ep.10 and their journey to get to the beach). And this would make Pran's "Isn't it my turn?" a little odd, since phrasing it as a question implies enough rounds for them to be unclear on whose turn it should be. Plus (as previously mentioned) the use of the codeword kiss implies it's already an established system (i.e., not created in the previous few days) that they both understand. Like I said, it's possible – but given the ensemble of clues and signs pointing at PatPran's sex life, I really do not think it is likely. It could be that Director Aof and team were skirting the sexual dimension in order to tone BBS down enough to make it past the censors for more general viewing (and in this way allow its message to reach the younger generation as well). Thus the greater reliance on innuendo and inference to suggest rather than show outright that there was more going on between the lines (behind the curtain? Noting that the novel on which BBS is based is titled Behind the Scenes 🤩) with regard to physical love between Pat and Pran (and is an apt metaphor for the storytelling of BBS as a whole, where nothing is as it seems at first glance – discussed more in detail in my write-up linked here). And this is possibly the meaning underlying the innuendo-laden cookout with Junior – the scene is a capsule summary of BBS where the surface theatrics are inoffensive enough for viewing by the younger set, while the more adult themes embedded in the narrative will become visible only if you look at them with more experienced eyes, and thus will satisfy more mature audiences as well. The end result isn't as anodyne as My School President (nor could it have been, given the weightiness of the encoded themes) but BBS still managed to land the 13+ age rating, which isn't at all bad if they were wanting to get its important messaging about LGBTQ+ positivity out to younger teens. And that messaging would be further reinforced, and with even less sexual content – zero in my book – when MSP hit the screens later of course. 💖

‌ P.P.S. This is not 100% related, but I have to put in a little side-note here about Pran's comfort object (his PP hobo bag). In my head I'm convinced part of why that bag works for Pran as his security blanket is not just because it's a physical shield or something to hold on to when out and about.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [1‌/4] 4.24 – Pat and Pran arrive once more at the Zero Waste Village, but this time around they're a confirmed couple seeking refuge for their forbidden love

I think Pran's comfort object also functions like a Mary Poppins Bag of Requirement, allowing him to carry all sorts of stuff to counter any eventuality life might throw his way, and thus also bestowing on him a sense of control in the outside world. Now gay sex can sometimes be a messy affair – but knowing canon OCD Pran, I'm pretty sure that bag held all the necessary accoutrements for our boys to have a smooth, muss-free and fuss-free ride on their honeymoon romps, and with easy clean-up assured afterwards as well… 😉

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#bad buddy #patpran #bad buddy sex #patpran sex #bad buddy analysis #tw: sex

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