#i would give anything to be a fly on the wall here omg

[smute]

have you ever wondered what it would've been like to attend the premiere of le sacre du printemps in 1913?

[sugarverse]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request either long or short fic about Tenya Iida. Likes it can be set in a modern setting where's he's a senior college student who's majoring in business and he has to take one more class to get his degree. It just so happened that the class is in the art building, and it is figure drawing (aka nude drawing) . Since he's just now hearing of the extra class he has to take, he's suddenly shocked when the model is an old friend of his from back home, whom he had a childhood crush on. Not only does his feelings for her come back, but he also has to have 1 on 1 section with the model for educational purposes. I kinda want it to be smut and fluff or however you see it fit. Anyway, I hope it's enough+

hi babe! omg I love this idea I kinda went a lil crazy and made it way too long. I hope u enjoy :)!!

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.5k

mentions of: This is really just the fluff portion of it, kinda suggestive bc he pops a boner and leads to sex in part two. I think I’m going to make a third part simply so the two of you can go on a genuine date andsotheresmoreiidaxblackreaderouthere.

a/n: hells yeah that’s enough, hopefully I did what ya asked and so sorry I went overboard I have serious problems. here’s the smut part bc a 6.7k fic is doing too damn much but i can’t stfu my fault gang

moodboard here!

Tenya Iida.

4th year, Senior in college majoring in International Business and minoring in Spanish at Angelwood College of Arts and Sciences.

The visual arts building had only been a few minutes away from the business side of campus, which he gladly enjoyed the walk. This spring all he needed to finish was two gen ed classes, the rest revolved around his major and minor. His counselor helped set up his ‘missing’ classes before winter break considering he had to fly back to Japan to see his family for the holidays. He was ecstatic to learn all he needed was an art class with lab and a communications class. 

When he asked what the class entailed, all he was met with was “beginner artists learning anatomy.” It didn’t sound difficult, just draw what you see. It would be nice to try something new anyway. He was not much of an artist but like all things Tenya does, he planned to give this class his all. The first week had been pretty easy, learning how to draw what you see with the use of models, shapes, and lines. Nothing too hard to follow. He would practice drawing his friends on the sketchpad he bought specifically for the class as a form of studying in the free time he had.

He neverminded it for the most part, excelling his knowledge in different countries in his free time to get better at his major. Sure they could teach you the technical way to do things, but in the end, everyone is still human. It would be inconsiderate to do business with a country and know little to nothing about their culture! It took almost two weeks for him to finally be able to even start the art project anyway.

As time went on and the January snow grew less and less, it was time to start their first real project of the semester. One on One figure drawing. The class needed to fill out a form explaining their free hours due to the limited art space and everyone's different schedules. Tenya happily filled it out when it was posted, continuing to work on class work from the library so that the lecture room could also be used for said project.

Their professor had explained that in-person class would remain on Mondays and Thursdays. It just worked out better for the models and students to have so much space.

He made the small walk over to the arts building for his last class of the day, a small shine in his glasses as he entered the white light of the room. The walls were anything but bare, artwork and unfinished projects sat in every corner of the room. Paint racks, canvases big and small, even stacks of unused clay. There was a stool sitting on a small platform in the middle of the room, assuming where the model will sit. 

He stood next to the stool for a moment, looking up at the grey February sky through the skylight. The natural lighting was great, almost like a spotlight. He adjusted the lights in the room a moment, dimming them slightly so the white light hadn’t been so harsh on his eyes. He headed over to a more organized table, setting out the art supplies how he liked. He knew he was early, but he wanted to make a good first impression. What’s better than being on time?

He pulled out his laptop, checking that the few assignments for today were done and submitted. A small frown tugged at his lips as he realized he hadn’t finished something completely, typing in the last few answers. He always double checked, technology was reliable.. When it wanted to be. He couldn’t hear the shuffle of slippers against the floor over his typing and frankly, loud thinking. 

He could see someone walk past in a teal robe representing the university's colors. Glancing up from the computer to give the model a proper hello, Tenya opens his mouth to speak but pauses. 

“Y/n?��� He asked, almost in a whisper in case he was wrong. A small look of confusion caused him to tilt his head to the side slightly. He hadn’t been able to see you for awhile with such busy schedules, but he knew your silhouette by heart. 

You turn at the sound of your name, mid sliding off the slippers and fumbling with the gold silk of the belt. “Tenya?” You smile, asking as you turn to slide your shoes back on and quickly shuffle your way over to him. He felt his face burn red, frozen in place for a moment with his jaw slack. He stood as if needing to detach from the seat, smiling at your happy demeanor and your quickness to wrap your arms around him. 

“It is you! I know those shoulders from anywhere!” You beamed, feeling his hovering hands slowly place themselves on your back to return the hug. He was very hesitant, simply because you were only in a robe. You pull away, hands resting on your hips and giving him a big smile. “Now what are you doin’ taking a figure drawing class, Mister businessman?”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, “I needed an art credit, W-What are u doing here?” He never had any classes with you at Angelwood, A few honors classes and gym in highschool but other than that, nada. Throughout the course of growing up, your interests drove you to different classes. 

However, classes don't matter when your families are as close as yours and the Iida family. Shared Holidays, playdates, game nights.. It wasn’t like you were some stranger. You both always made time to hang out a few times during the year to catch up without the family just to give a real check on each other. It was his favorite, almost like a mini holiday to talk to you.

He loved spending time with you. You were smart, articulated and incredibly creative. You never took slack from anyone.. Even in middle school he can remember you being the one to stand up and say something when things weren’t right. You were headstrong and determined in anything that you did.. Art majors always get a lot of grief but you never let that deter you. And that was admirable in itself! ..And he had always thought you were so pretty. 

He felt like a kid again, heart feeling as if it’d beat out of his chest at the mere sight of you. It had been around Halloween the last time he saw you, and here it was. Almost Valentine's day.. Still as pretty and bright as he remembered. Your next hangout wasn't for another month or so, so it was nice to see you sooner than that.

“I'm your model, silly!” You head over to the stool, continuing to speak. “The art department asked if I’d help in modeling and I said yes! People were too scared to sign up for the most part. I’m surprised this is the class you picked. Did you want to learn how to draw people?” You slide your slippers off once more, untying the cute bow on your hip that held your robe shut. 

Suddenly the room was very hot and he couldn't breathe. Now his heart really WAS beating out of his chest. He quickly did a 180, shielding his eyes and removing his glasses for extra measure. “WHY– do yoU have.. nothing on underrrrneath?” He croaked, voice cracking as his tone raised slightly.

You tilt your head at such a question, the gears clicking a little later than they should have. “Figure drawing is um.. Nude drawing, Tenya. You didn't know that?” You slide the robe back on, giggling at the flustered man across from you. You could see his shoulders tense, shaking his head slowly.

Now how the fuck could he have missed that.

“I um.. No, I didn't. I thought that it was.. I don't know what I thought. My counselor picked it for me and I.. Most models we've used so far have.. had skin colored undergarments… On.” He let out a nervous laugh, keeping his glasses off. He turns around, cleaning them with the end of his shirt but refusing to look up at you. He needed to mentally prepare his brain to be professional in a situation like this. Not that he minded the glance, he just never thought this would be how..

You prop your feet onto the edge of the stool, interrupting his thought. You held your knees up to your chest so he couldn’t see anything but your bare legs. “Oh Ten, I’m sorry! I can ask someone else to-”

“No! I am perfectly.. capable. It's professional and I can be.. professional..” He put his glasses back on, hand refusing to be steady as he did so. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling at you and finally looking at you once more.

You let out a small laugh at the blush on his cheeks. He was so handsome, but to see him so flustered over little ol’ you? It made your week. “We can start slow, that might help.” you slide the robe down your shoulders, slowly putting your legs back down so he could see your robed torso once more. You stopped at the top of your breasts, letting your collarbone show. “Do you have any specific poses..?” You ask quietly, trying to hold back your amusement.

He sits down, red faced and completely flushed. A nude model.. jeez. From sleepovers to recess, studying together to graduating, and now almost graduating for the final time together. That's something you don’t get to have in every lifetime. But why do these thoughts keep coming back to him now? 

There was no way he could still have romantic feelings for you. He’d never put your friendship at risk like that!

..right?

“I um.. yeah, small.” He cleared his throat, “Could you um.. Could you stand slightly off of the um.. Almost like getting up?” He fumbled over his words, staring at the empty paper as if he could burn the quick image in his brain onto the page to get the embarrassment over with. He sighed once more, trying to focus as he began sketching circles and lines as a starter sketch of the pose he wanted.

“When you need to draw a certain part I'll move it, Sound fair?” You ask, resting one foot onto the stool and one onto the ground. Your hand gripped the seat as your butt sat on the edge, similar to when people do that supposedly hot thing where they throw their head back and pull some weird rope to have water get poured on them. 

It was second nature at this point for people to see you. Of course some of them were flustered and it was pretty awkward at first, but normally not to the point of stuttering and stammering. It wasn’t often that you saw Tenya fall apart, but this was way different. Especially considering you flashed him without warning. He was one of the most endearing people you had ever met, there was no way you would have done that without proper context.

He could only nod in response, not wanting to further make a fool of himself. Lightly tapping the pencil against the table, He looks up at you. “You can um.. re.. remove the top part, y/n..” It was hard to simply draw your arms and collarbone without including the robe, so you might as well rip the band-aid off and start with the top. 

You nod, dropping it happily and letting the robe pull around your hips and between your legs. You close your eyes, facing up toward the skylight in an attempt to make him less nervous. “Sorry for flashing you at first, I would have explained but I assumed you had already known..?” You laugh quietly to yourself at your own mistake. Why would someone like him even take this class if he knew what it actually entailed?

And God, did he feel like a pervert staring at your chest like this. The boner poking his thigh almost immediately didn't help, making it even harder to concentrate. Way to keep composure. He pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I had no idea, I’m sorry for my r..reaction.” He answered, stopping the pencil tapping to actually begin sketching more than just circles and lines. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt like he was close to passing out. 

“I think it was a pretty valid one.” You send a reassuring smile his way, seeing him send you one right back. Trying to ease the mood, you look back up at the ceiling and close your eyes to avoid staring at the ugly overcast sky above you. “How was winter break? You get to go home and see your family? How are they?” 

His smile grew wider at your question, scooting under the desk a bit more so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice his body reacting. “They’re great, Tensei is getting married soon,” He sounded excited at the thought alone, incredibly proud of his brother. 

“And my mother has started a hobby making soap, if you can believe it. She sent me some to bring back one that smells like lavender and another that smells like oranges mixed with I believe she said papaya.? She made a coconut smelling one for you– I was going to give it to you the next time we saw each other,” 

The sound of his sketching stopped and started as he spoke, giving your body small glances as he tried to study each part of your upper torso. The way your stomach creased, The way your shoulder was slightly lifted causing your collarbone to be more prominent, the curve of your breasts.. “How was your Holiday, y/n?”

“No way, Tensei is getting married?!” You accidentally stop posing, fully facing him in genuine shock. The robe was still covering your lower half, you had tied the belt to avoid accidentally flashing him again but here we are. You watch his face become even more red, eyes very obviously not meeting yours but still like a deer in headlights. 

You quickly get back to posing how you were, “Sorry Ten, That's amazing!! I hope everything goes smoothly for him and his soon to be wife.. And tell your mommy I said thank you for thinking of me. I can't wait to try it!”

A smile stayed on your lips as you thought about the times you’ve spent in the Iida household. His mother always had the best candles and incense burning, you were positive the soap would be the same. “My family is up to the same old shit, you know them..” You let out a small groan, the holidays weren’t an absolute disaster, but after not being home so long makes you remember why you aren’t going to school anywhere near home. 

“I did get some cool stuff for Christmas though! I got some new clothes and they got me a few art kits. You know, where it teaches you how to crochet? I also have a new diamond painting kit, I haven't opened either yet because it's just been so busy.” You replied, tapping your fingers on the side of the stool where your hand sat. 

You look up once more, this time because the skylight was beginning to be covered in snow. You watched as it fell, thinking back to old times when you and Tenya would spend the last three major holidays with each other. You’d always make sure to trick or treat together, your families have been sharing Thanksgiving for as long as you can remember, and spending the night in your basement on Christmas eve to wait for Santa until you were both too old. Then instead of waiting for Santa, you’d all eat at least one meal together on Christmas day. Sometimes homemade breakfast, other times a small trip to IHOP or Waffle House.

“God damn it.. It’s snowing again..” You let out a small laugh, looking over at him over your shoulder, fingers still tapping away at the base of the stool. “Hey Ten, Do you remember when we used to have those big snowball fights? The one near Red Fern?” 

“Of course I do! You refused to wear any kind of gloves and my mother would make you at least put socks on your hands so you didn’t get frostbite!” The two of you shared a small laugh at the memories of being young and dumb.

“Gloves always made my hands too itchy! They still do– But I kicked your ass in snowball fights with gloves or not.” You retort, a smirk appearing on your face. “Ice queen y/n of everything.” You could remember the insane snowball fights the neighborhood kids would have every. time. It snowed. If there was enough to make a few snowballs, there was enough to start a war. Tenya was always on your team, but it never stopped you from throwing a few his way. The ‘winner’ was King or Queen of the hill and first to sled down, which often enough was you.

“Remember when you almost broke my glasses throwing one right at my face?” He snickered, watching your smirk turn into a small pouty frown. He knew you didn’t mean to, that same day you helped your mom make cookies for him and his family as an apology, even though he wasn’t upset to begin with. But you knew it could have broken his glasses and you would be devastated if you were the reason for it. You were a real sweetheart, even if you had a weird way of showing sometimes.

“Hey! You know that wasn’t on purpose, I felt really bad after! I even let you get me back!” Which was true, but he never aimed for your face. Always a spot on your fluffy coat, never your legs because you hated your pants being wet… and a face shot just felt wrong to him. 

“Yeah, Yeah. I remember that part too,” He smiled to himself. “Those were really good times.. I remember Tensei always bringing us hot chocolate and we’d sit on your porch and draw things in the snow..”

“Oh! And when we’d come back all wet and mom already had spare clothes in her hands because she didn’t want it on the carpet. We’d put on too big clothes just to sit and watch Christmas movies..” You missed those times. But they never really had to stop, you two could have a huge snowball fight after this if you wanted to and the snow stuck. Was he too grown for that? Would it even sound fun to him?

“Do you still watch A Year Without Santa Clause every year?” He asks, breaking your train of thought. You nodded quickly at his question, grinning like a maniac. “Of course I do! And I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas, Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.. And sometimes Spongebob's Christmas Special. Do you still watch old Christmas cartoons?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t wanna ruin tradition.” He answered, pressing his lips together slightly as he stared down at the paper. You can tell he freezes a bit, the sound of his scribbling coming to a stop. He set the pencil down, rubbing the sweat of his hands onto his thighs.

 “You can um.. remOove-..” He quickly cleared his throat, “The rest.” He let out a disappointed sigh at his inability to keep composure. This wouldn't be half the problem it was if it was someone else modeling. But this is you we're talking about. 

“You sure? If you need a minute we can take a break, honey.” You gave him a sympathetic look, still smiling but this time more.. warm. The kind of smile someone gives to another when they genuinely care for them. Or love them for that matter. He adored it, it was the same smile you'd give him when saying he needs to take a break, the same smile you give him when the two of you out to get coffee and catch up. The same smile he's fallen for many, many times. 

But to tell you the truth? It’s driving him crazy. All of this. Was driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, he could stop his wandering mind. You were a goddess. What else was there to do besides take a break and hopefully release some steam in the bathroom or something. Completely inappropriate, but the pain from being hard for so long was starting to cloud the best judgment. 

He looks down at the sketch so far, then back to you as he rubbed his hand upward against his face. It pushed his glasses up, causing them to be crooked when going back down. “I um.. I think I do.. need a minute.” His voice died out as he watched you slide the robe back on, words failing him because couldn’t think completely straight.

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top pic!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[dontbelasagnax]

OMG CAN I DO A PROMPT FOR THE KISS ROULETTE???

No pressure BUT I number 35. Kiss against a wall would make me go FERAL.

Bonus points if it's in some hidden corner and they're trying to sneak away after a hard won battle because the codywan brain rot has GOT ME. I CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING BUT THEM

Please pretend like you sent this ask recently and I haven't been sitting on it for months waiting for my eggs to hatch @why-cant-turtles-fly 😂 As requested, here is codywan kissing against a wall... though it's actually a pillar (oops). I was inspired by this artwork I did!

Pairing: CC-22224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2,330

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Tenderness, Making Out, Introspection, and by that I mean Obi-Wan is mentally ill and thinks too much, Implied Sexual Content, POV Obi-Wan Kenobi

Summary:

    "Missing something?" Cody wiggles a certain lightsaber in his hand as he closes the distance of only a couple meters.

    "More than one thing, it seems," Obi-Wan replies.

    [ OR: Obi-Wan and Cody steal away some precious time after a victorious battle which of course results in a makeout session against a pillar. ]

(fic under the cut if you wish to read here on tumblr)

This morning Obi-Wan finds himself in the ruins of a long ago abandoned castle, high in the mountainous region of Bestoon's northernmost continent. However difficult the altitude makes it to breathe unassisted, it's worth it for the view. There isn't much he loves looking at more than a sunrise in the clouds.

The sunrise after a well earned victory in battle has become one of Obi-Wan's favorite moments to find peace these last few months or... has it been years? Time has melted together through this dreary drudge of a war.

He's watched this sky transition from dusky purples splashed with rays of golden sunlight to a pale blue canvas with clouds shadowed with purples leaning grey and highlights of soft pinks and yellows.

"Sir," a very familiar voice calls from behind. 

Obi-Wan turns towards the voice. 

'Ah,' Obi-Wan thinks, a smile already beginning to emerge on his features, 'my dearest commander.'

The light of the sky washes Cody in diffused golds and pinks. He is delightfully dressed down, forgoing his armour from the waist up. The tight, ribbed fabric does his physique all the favors the way it clings. A stray curl drops onto his forehead. The lighting does wonders for his complexion. It's as if he's glowing.

Yes, Cody bathed in the light of a new day is the most breathtaking, glorious view of them all.

"Missing something?" Cody wiggles a certain lightsaber in his hand as he closes the distance of only a couple meters. 

"More than one thing, it seems," Obi-Wan replies as he takes the lightsaber held out to him. The metal is heated from the rare touch of Cody's bare hand. Energy thrums from the kyber, a slow pulse that nearly sparkles, sending the residual heat of skin and life up Obi-Wan's arm, straight to his ever beating heart. 

So helpful his kyber crystal is, giving fuel to the flame of his infatuation that, once a slow burn, is steadily alight.

Cody leans back against the pillar, looks at him with those warm, big brown eyes of his and oh…

Obi-Wan steps into Cody's space.

Cody's sharp inhale and the way his hand comes up to touch Obi-Wan's belly is exactly what he wanted. 

Obi-Wan rests his arm beside Cody's head on the stone, bringing his face close enough to just feel Cody's breath on the whiskers of his beard.

Thick, black lashes fluttering downwards then back up. The want in those gorgeous eyes is magnetizing.

Obeying Cody's gravitational pull, Obi-Wan kisses him. The catch of their lips slow and tender, just a hint of saliva and suction, loving the warm nudge of Cody's nose against his cheek, and the bloom of Cody's Force presence like flowers turning to the morning sun. 

"Well done," Obi-Wan murmurs as he pulls away, chasing the wounded noise Cody makes with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Your performance was stellar today, as always. Always."

Obi-Wan clips his lightsaber to his belt and cups his darling's jaw with his newly freed hand. He sighs into the meeting of their lips. The soft warm comfort of Cody's mouth is offset by the rigidity of his armour below the waist. It’s as accurate a representation of Cody’s true self as it gets: compassionate and sweet while still deadly and unwieldy.

Though, as much as Obi-Wan adores this version of Cody—so delectable in only his codpiece, cuisse, and greaves—he’d selfishly prefer him stripped even further. 

Alas, he's getting ahead of himself.

Cody's arms curl around him, hands clenching in his tabards. Their lips make smacking noises with the separation of each slow, deliberate kiss.

It's with a bittersweet ache in his chest that Obi-Wan cherishes these moments for he never knows what the next day will bring. The reality of war is that any second of any day he could lose Cody and he'll never know another day painted warm and vibrant by Cody's dry humor and barely-there smiles, the rare times when Obi-Wan can make him really laugh and hear joy spring from his soul, the quiet steady companionship of his presence, and the compassion he shows his brothers. One day he'll never know another kiss, another pleasure coated sigh of his own name, or feel the needy way Cody curves his entire body into Obi-Wan’s to get what he wants. 

It is possible that Obi-Wan would be the one to go first but… he knows deep down, and has accepted it with peace, that he's meant for infinite sadness. 

He already nearly lost him that first time- the time Cody first kissed him.

However long Cody is willing to share these hidden pockets of love with him, he will cherish every second they have together.

He emphasizes this thought with a purposeful tug and suck of Cody’s bottom lip before pulling away to breathe. The thinner air at this altitude has them panting against each other, lips grazing slightly, a sensitive tingly, ticklish tease.

Cody rubs their noses together, as if trying to grasp any sort of intimacy he can while recovering his breath.

Obi-Wan’s heart squeezes painfully.

Never let it be said lest Cody try to kill him in his sleep… but Cody is not just a sweet, sweet man but adorable.

 Natural as the mist of cloudy mornings, Obi-Wan kisses him again. 

Everything about this is intentional. From the way he slowly draws their mouths together again and again, pace languid and savoring, to the way they've chosen each other- chosen to find these moments to do nothing but love. It's not a choice, really, that they will choose duty over each other if that's what it comes to. That's simply the reality of their existences. Those priorities will never change, not with how the war has molded them into thinking. 

No, the choosing is in the love. 

He does love Cody and perhaps always will. It's not been said. Nor does he know with absolute certainty that Cody feels the same.

Cody's presence in the Force has always been a bit of a comfort for Obi-Wan since they met. Through all the uncertainty and pain in the galaxy, Cody is sturdy and shines. He's not certain when Cody’s signature began emanating a warmth that curls into his chest and makes him feel at home. It could be that with time and the development of Obi-Wan's own feelings, every aspect of Cody became beyond endearing.

Or… it could be the manifestation of Cody's own feelings for Obi-Wan.

He's not certain. And he's very well not going to ask.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't.

Still, he catches quick moments sometimes out the corner of his eye where Cody looks at him with an impossibly soft look on his face and Obi-Wan thinks, 'Maybe-’

Really. It doesn't matter. 

He has Cody so readily in the cradle of his arms, drinking up every milliliter of affection bestowed upon him.

And, well, his train of thought falls to the wayside when Cody moans into his mouth and tries to drag him even closer between the v of his legs. 

He's not sure exactly what he’s done to make Cody react so positively but he goes with the motion as heat burns deep in his abdomen.

He teases at Cody's lips with his tongue and realizes his fault when Cody instantly opens his mouth and deepens the kiss. The inside of Cody's mouth is hot and wet and his tongue- licking all those spots that make Obi-Wan shudder into him. 

Not that it's not lovely—because it is, really—but this is not how he intended things to go. 

Cody's insistent against him, pressing for more, hotter, faster, harder.

With difficulty, Obi-Wan pulls away, dodging Cody's attempts to meld their mouths together. 

“Cody, dearheart,” he says, out of breath, thumb gently stroking the skin by the corner of Cody's mouth, “you don't need to devour me.”

Cody doesn't quite pout but it's a near thing. The way his eyes are glued to Obi-Wan's lips make tooka-eyes impossible. “Remains to be seen.”

Obi-Wan huffs a laugh and kisses his cheek. “Please, my-” he catches himself almost saying ‘love’, “dear. Just for now. Let me treat you softly.”

Cody considers this solemnly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He nods.

Obi-Wan smiles. “Good man.”

The bob of Cody's throat at his words is gratifying. 

He closes his eyes and leans back in to capture Cody's lips for a few slow, lingering kisses. 

“That’s it. Easy goes,” Obi-Wan murmurs between kisses. Cody melts underneath him, pliant and accepting. 

He'll take every rare opportune moment to treat Cody like the indulgence he is– truly savor him. Hot plush lips between his own, a smooth glide aided by saliva. Slow and steady. Discovering how electric and titillating the simplicity is. Just Cody's warm body against his own. Cody's lips. Cody's sighs. Cody…

He's the sweetest of luxuries. And he should be cherished accordingly. 

Obi-Wan plants a path of kisses up Cody's cheek, right to the end of his brow, following the raised skin of his facial scar.

He's wondered if anyone else has gotten to love Cody like he has or if he's the only one to ply him with tender affection. He's wondered if, in a kinder universe, Cody would be left free of the scars Obi-Wan has gotten to know so intimately. If there were a universe as such, would Obi-Wan be given the chance to love Cody all over again or if another is destined for him- someone closer to his age and able to devote their life to ensuring his happiness.

He's tied himself into knots over this. The hypotheticals. 

He loves Cody. He loves him easily, unhurried and unconditionally. He loves him with every breath he shares loving the Jedi Order—his family—and this wonderous Force-filled world they live in. 

It's just that. He does not love Cody more than the order, more than his faith and his family. Cody is a part of his life. Whatever comes next, may it be death or freedom or- well, Force knows what, Obi-Wan hopes Cody remains a constant. Selfishly. More than a little lovesick. He wants Cody in his life. But he will accept whatever comes their way, as it is the will of the Force. 

 And if that means-

“Where'd’ya keep going?” asks Cody, big brown eyes of his gazing into Obi-Wan's soulfully. A deep brown that melts into a warm, rich amber. Beautiful.

“Nowhere of consequence.” He rubs his nose along Cody’s cheek. Breathes him in. 

“You sure?”

Obi-Wan drags his lips down Cody's jaw, smiling to himself and settling in once Cody shudders and angles his head out of the way.

“Absolutely certain,” Obi-Wan murmurs against his pulse point then kisses that very same spot.

A sigh from Cody is just the encouragement Obi-Wan needs to continue on. 

It's a gift having Cody so sensitive and wanting under him. An entirely different side of his commander than the stern, regal demeanor their troopers see day in and out. 

He kisses and sucks and nips the column of Cody's neck, delighting in the small, pleased noises he draws from Cody with every pass of his mouth over salty skin. 

He only leaves a couple of marks by the time Cody tugs him upwards. He's not too dismayed to leave the warm crook of his love’s neck because the expression on Cody's face is nothing short of wanton, absolutely debauched. 

Cody’s lips are still plump and kiss bitten. 

Obi-Wan can't resist. He traces the pad of his thumb across Cody's bottom lip. Breath shakes onto skin and Cody's mouth closes around the digit, suctioning him in hot, wet heat. 

He draws in a sharp breath.

His gaze darts to Cody’s eyes where he meets pupils blown wide with desire. Cody stares unflinchingly, daring and, oh… 

Cody has bewitched him, utterly and completely. Try as he might to retain composure, Cody is his undoing in these moments. The fragile strings of his heart (and… other parts of his anatomy…) pulled taut and ready to spring forward.

He wanted to keep it slow and soft, but Cody knows just how to arm him into an arrow ready to spring forth.

He pops his thumb from Cody's mouth and fixes his mouth and lips there instead, letting him know just how affected he is. He tastes Cody’s own desire echoed back to him in his moans and tongue and the needy press of his body that Obi-Wan keeps caged to the pillar. The fists that grab at his tunic and hair to try and get him even closer.

The high altitude forces them apart to breathe sooner than either of them would like but they don't go far, nuzzling noses and panting against one another's lips. 

“We’d better take this back to The Negotiator,” Cody says quietly, still out of breath.

Obi-Wan nods his agreement, sure that if they stay here a minute longer he'll be on his knees.

Hand in hand, they hurry away and the sunrise grows only brighter, pink tones making way for the brilliance of the full sun. Clouds drift with the breeze and all is as it will be.

[kryptznnn]

♡- Let Me Know [III]

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➸ INTERESTS; -atwow!neteyam x fem!metkayina reader

➸ BACKGROUND; -As the omatikayan family takes refuge within your clan, it seems sparks begin to fly when tension rises with the oldest brother and yourself over a shared family dinner. The question isn't what'll happen between you two, it's what'll you do to prevent things from getting further.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc.3.3k, angst kinda sorta, injury mention, blood mentions, open wound care, romantic tension, seizure mentions, care, scar mention, nearly kissing, romantic confessions kinda sorta

➸a.i; - hello omg im so sorry im late i was being followed by some random in a grocery store 😓, anyways im back love u guys, working on the jjk fic now should be posted within a few hours or tmrw morning!!

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♡- Let Me Know [II]

♡-Let Me Know Masterlist

You sighed as you drew another mark on the wall, that’s a total of 15 marks. It had been 15 days since you had stayed within the village or even seen the Sully family. You knew you needed a break, but honestly guilt was eating you up inside, you missed everyone.

You had seen your family occasionally, stopping by for meals or rest at certain times. You had also been within the village for small periods of time, mainly for the children, and unfortunately haven’t come across any of the other Sully members other than Tuk.

You had really wanted to see Neteyam more than anyone else, deciding it was a proper timing to talk things out with him to see where you two really stand. Now of all times during your break was probably one of the worst times though, thankfully your family was understanding. They had explained they already told the others of your break and to take your time through it all.

If anything, when you did get back Neteyam wouldn’t even be part of what you had in store. You had to speak to your brother and clear the air, the way things ended weren’t for the best. Even on your day-to-day occurrence of stopping by your mauri pod he wouldn’t be there, and apparently always asked for you.

It made your stomach twist slightly, your head felt like it was splitting in half, and you didn’t know what to do. You were too hurt to even think of any-

“Y/n?” You heard a familiar voice asking from behind you, you whipped your head around quickly to see A’tan. Surprise was plastered on your face, then quickly turning into confusion.

“How did you know I was here?” You asked him, turning back around as you watched him walk in further, sitting beside you and looking at the chart you carved into the wall. He smiled at you softly, then handed you a small blue conch shell which you immediately recognized.

“My sister told me you’d be here, she said you took her here before, wanted me to give you this.” He spoke as you took the shell into your hands with a soft smile, remembering Riti.

You thanked him and you two began small conversation. He soon led towards the point of what had happened two weeks ago and asked what had happened for your outburst. Apparently everyone that was there did spread the news onto the entire clan, and no one was willing to tell him what happened to you, you only sighed and huddled your knees to your chest.

“A couple of years ago, I was with Ao’nung, as he wanted to show me something special he had found with his friends. I went along with him of course, but we only went with my ilu. He stupidly went beyond the reefs and I chased after him, unfortunately we cross paths with a pxazang.” You paused, remembering that day as it was the only thing that would replay in your head over and over.

“I was able to distract it, calling back for my ilu and telling Ao’nung to go back home and get our father to help, knowing if we both left it would've followed after us. The most damage I did when he was away was cut its eye, but that only made him more aggressive… and he gave me this as a souvenir." You paused, pointing to your back as you moved your hair to the side slightly before speaking again.

"It’s funny because I had passed out from the injury and floated to the top of the ocean and my father kept mentioning how he was only able to locate me because my blood left a trail in the ocean to direct him towards me.” You spoke, shaking your head and smiling awkwardly to the idea of it all.

“I don’t know I want to get over it, but it feels impossible honestly, like-“ You stopped, thinking to yourself for a moment as A’tan spoke, not listening to a single word he said when an idea clicked in your mind.

All you had to do was face your problem head on, right? Then things would be easier for you. Yeah, they would be easier, you just had to find the pxazang and get all of this energy out. It was years ago and even so you damaged its eye, it couldn’t be that hard.

You quickly shot up, grabbing your equipment and weapons before thanking A’tan. He looked at you in confusion and asked you numerous questions, you only shooed him off and made him exit, as you did soon behind him.

Hopefully you wouldn’t die.

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Your breath was ragged as you made your way back inside of your cave after petting your new animal goodbye. You held your side as you limped inside slowly, sitting down in front of your bedding and pulling out your herbal mixtures you had taken from home days ago.

You placed the paste on your side, your thigh, and upper arm. The cool sensation relieving the pain from your body and prior warm blood that trickled down it. You smiled to yourself, thinking back to your victorious moment, you were alive, and you had also bonded with the pxazang.

You thought to yourself how your family would’ve taken the news, definitely not well. You would’ve been scolded and seen as crazy for doing such a thing, but it bought a sort of comfort towards you. If you could beat such a creature there was no doubt you could do anything, especially speaking with your brother and the eldest Sully son.

You soon picked up your large shawl, placing your arms through the holes you had cut and placed the large hoodie over your head, now covering your body. You dug into your small pouch tied to your side and picked out the tooth of the pxazang.

You smiled softly as you got a small cord and wrapped it around tightly, securing it in place before tying it behind your neck and wearing it as a necklace. You looked over to the side, looking at the reflective surface on your wall and smiled looking at the necklace before hearing multiple people rushing into your cave.

You whipped your head around to see A’tan rushing inside alongside with your siblings and Roxto, you quickly stood up once you saw them all. A confused expression was worn on your face as you placed your hands to your side, before your sister immediately jumped into your arms hugging you tightly.

You smiled softly and hugged her back, biting your bottom lip as you winced and held in the pain from her pressing on your arms and sides. The two of you shared no words with one another, you looked past her shoulder to see your brother looking at the two of you, hurt in his eyes.

“Ao’nung” you said softly, your voice fairly hoarse. You motioned for him to come to you as you frowned at him, you sister let you go and you placed both hands on each side of his cheeks, cupping them.

You brought his head down to yours and pressed your forehead against his, as you two would do all the time when you were little and hugged him. Tears in your eyes and he only buried his head on your shoulder. You apologized to him profusely, over and over without fail, as he did to you, saying it wasn’t your fault and that he deserved it.

You soon shared your hugs with everyone inside, and they ushered you out as something terrible had happened to one of the Sully children. Before they could even go into detail about the seizure or how it started you darted out, calling for your ilu and speeding your way towards the shore of your family's mauri pod.

“Mama! Mama!” You shouted, pushing past all of the foreign objects and devices outside that made such loud noises as you made your way inside. Quickly flipping the beaded entrance to the side, you saw your mother who kneeled beside a body, Kiri’s body.

You greeted her quickly with a hug and walked around on the opposite side of her body. Placing a hand on her forehead, then her lower stomach. Her body was freezing, you frowned slightly taking in her unconscious expression and removed your shawl as your mother grabbed her needles to use on her torso.

You placed your shawl over her legs, and grabbing another cloth near you, rolling it up into a spiral like figure and placing it underneath her head to keep it elevated. Wincing as your body wouldn’t let you make that many movements as fast as you wanted from your wounds.

You took a deep breath and focused on your mother’s movements, mimicking her and keeping your hands over Kiri, praying for her. Honestly through your rush and prayers you hadn’t even realized everyone’s eyes on you.

Especially Neteyam, whose eyes hadn’t left your figure as he saw you sprint across the sandy beaches and into your pod. It wasn’t surprising for them to be shocked by your presence before them, it was the fact your body had suffered significant injuries.

Of course, your mother had taken note of this, her eyes not leaving your body nor Kiri’s. She took a good look at the necklace around your neck before huffing, to which you opened your eyes and asked if she was alright. She looked down at Kiri as she pointed a finger at your collarbone to where the necklace had rested against your skin.

“Where did you get that?” She asked, now placing her hand down and slightly poking Kiri again, a feeling of nervousness washed over you. You looked down at your hands and the bandaging on your left thigh, playing at it for a little.

“I made it from a tooth I found” you replied honestly. You weren’t lying, you did make the necklace, and you did find the tooth. Only in the palm of your hand after you had tied the mouth of the pxazang shut so you could climb atop it.

She only shook her head, before she could say or accuse you of anything else further and finding out the truth you only changed the topic, saying it was more important to focus on Kiri as of now.

And the two of you did.

Well,

Both families did, they all waited for her awakening. The children all sat together, Riti was accompanied by Tuk and A’tan, while Lo’ak sat with Tsireya, as you sat alone with your mother and Neytiri with Kiri. You only looked over your shoulder occasionally to catch Neteyam catching glimpses of you, then soon turning in the opposite direction and looking back at sea.

You stood up and excused yourself, watching as the colors were drained from the sky as night arose again. You walked over to him and took a seat beside him, hudding your knees to your chest.

You looked over at him briefly, placing one hand over your legs and another in the sand. He locked eyes with you, looking at you with a frown before wetting his lips and parting them.

“I’ve missed you” he spoke, looking out into the sea yet again, you only frowned and did the same. You felt your fingers bristle against one another for a brief moment, but you felt comfort for a while and didn’t move it.

His hand was warm, really warm. It clashed against your own cool skin as you had come from the water not too long ago, not even having time to properly dry your body off. The wind blew against the two of you for a moment before you spoke.

“I’m sorry, and I’m sorry about your sister also. I should’ve been here.” You said, hurt in your voice as you spoke to him, he only shook his head and smiled at you. Admiring your attitude and compassion towards the situation, and with your aid alongside your mother.

“It’s alright, your sister said you were taking a break because you weren’t feeling well.” He said with a pause, looking at your body before turning back and speaking again. “But it seems that you returned more beaten than you left” he joked, you chuckled at his response as he motioned towards your bandages.

After a moment of silence and short glances and bashful eyes towards one another you cleared your throat. Sitting with your legs crossed as you took a deep breath and turned, now sitting and facing his side.

He only raised a brow but copied your movement. Now sitting across from you and looking into your eyes, trying to find something. Whatever it was he was looking for was soon shut down as you closed your eyes and lowered your head before opening them again, looking into your lap.

“We need to talk” you said softly, looking up at him as you fidgeted with your fingers. He hadn’t seemed nervous at all, still keeping a confused expression on his face before he spoke.

“We’re talking now aren’t we?” He said, pointing between the two of you, making you smile softly as you shook your head at him.

“I mean we have to talk about us, or whatever is going between us. More importantly what you feel for me or for how long it’s been happening...” You lingered on, he made an expression saying he understood what you meant and smiled at you.

“You’re very beautiful, I’ve told you that since we first properly met. Your attitude and determination is also beautiful, how you care for my siblings as if they’re your own or the others of the village is admirable.” He spoke honestly, looking into your eyes as he muttered each word.

As you looked at him in shock you turned your head to the side, feeling a heat creep up poke at your face as you twisted your lips. You had only felt this issue out of embarrassment at certain times, so why now? In the corner of your eye, you caught onto Neteyam playing with the sand before speaking again.

“Over the time you were away I was able to think about you or more of how I saw you. I saw you as more of a friend, and my siblings even bullied me about it for a while.” He laughed, his eyes now glued to the sand as you turned back and listened to him speak.

“Even though we don’t personally know each other as well as I’d like us too, I feel like I’ve known you forever. My entire being longs for yours whenever you’re away, and even just seeing you makes me happy, we don’t even have to speak.” He smiled to himself as he spoke, your heartbeat quickened at his words. Unaware of what to say or do, shock now completely overwhelming you.

Truth be told you did feel the same way towards Neteyam, towards a certain extent at least, his emotions seeming more extreme than yours. Out of embarrassment and lack of understanding of course you kept it under wraps and never wished to explore it further, but as he sat here and said all of this it only made you question yourself.

Between the short time you two had spent together you compared it to what your mother had told you about how she felt for your father. Mentioning to you that these are things you should look for within a man in the future you wish to pursue a life with.

Someone who is attractive, and without a doubt Neteyam Sully was a fine man. A man who could make you laugh or bring a sense of comfort or happiness whenever you’re with him. You quickly thought back to the feeling the pit of your stomach would make whenever he would simply touch you or speak to you, let alone look at you the way he does.

You smiled at him, strongly as he lifted his head up. You quickly took your hand into his and only nodded softly. He soon pulled you into a hug, both of his hands on your lower back. It was soothing and also terrifying, his strength was unbelievable, and yet he was so gentle with you as you hugged him back. You closed your eyes, still wincing through the pain and grunting softly as you patted him softly.

It seemed to him without even opening your lips to say a word he was able to understand everything you were telling him by just looking into his eyes. That’s what he had been trying to do for so long, read you.

Now that he had read your true intentions and the messages you were sending him, he was beyond happy. Honestly, he had practiced alone how he would speak to you when the day came, now it’s happy to see his work paid off.

As you two pulled apart from the hug your eyes or hands never left one another. Just as your heartbeat had settled it was risen again, the tension between the two of you was thick, now it seemed as if he wasn’t looking into your eyes for a response, but permission.

You placed a hand on his cheek, cupping it as you placed the other one past his ear, your fingers grazing against the back of his head. He placed a hand on your lower jaw, one of his fingers dangling down underneath it. As he rested his other hand by the side of your neck, careful to not grab you throat as he leaned in.

You nodded softly, to which he grinned from ear to ear as his fangs poked out from his mouth slightly. He kissed you on your forehead as you pressed your eyes shut, only to open them again. Looking at him as he smiled cheerfully at you, you only rolled your eyes and sat up straight, now ready to start the first kiss between you two.

He smirked at you, already seeing what position you were taking as he placed one hand now on your lower waist. As your lips grazed against one another before pressing you heard cheering and cries from the children inside. Quickly you pulled back from Neteyam, pushing him off of you and falling back first in the sand with a thud.

Without haste both Riti and Tuk came outside towards the two of you and jumped up and down screaming. Startling you as you now rolled over to stand up, looking back at Neteyam who was rested back on his elbows with his legs stretched out, shooting you a cocky smirk as you rolled your eyes.

“Kiri’s awake she’s awake!” They shouted in unison as they jumped hand in hand, you and Neteyam both darted towards the entrance of your mauri pod. You led a front while he stayed right behind you, his breathing heavy on your skin as you shivered.

As the two of you walked inside he placed a hand on your lower waist yet again, to push past you to get to his sister as you took a spot by your mother. As everyone said their hellos and hugged Kiri, you kept sudden glances and smiles back and forth between Neteyam, as he did you.

Realization hit you slowly, the two of you had nearly kissed, let alone had been nearly caught. It wasn’t just any kiss for you either, your first kiss. Your first kiss would’ve been him.

You covered your mouth and placed your face in your hands as you felt the same heat as before creep up to your cheeks yet again.

So long to saying you’d prevent anything happening between the two of you.

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✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[scramblescrew]

Hiya there! I saw you're taking Requests

If its not a problem I would like to request yandere Cookie run Ancients with a reader that tried (and failed at) fighting back after being kidnapped by them.

((OMGSH THANK YOU FOR BEING MY FIRST REQUEST, ANON! Also I’ll give you this for the request, I hope you enjoy!))

((Art by DevSister art team!))

Yandere Ancients with a defiant Darling

Let me tell you- this king was LIVID

Why must you fight him after he saved you!? Seeing you try and shove him away from yourself, screaming, crying, begging, trying to get back to the world that was trying to corrupt you…take you away from him… “why must you fight me!?I’m only doing what’s best for you!” At some point, Dark Cacao would have enough and lock you in your isolated room with watchers guarding your door for days, Dark Cacao coming in every day in hopes you would run into his arms and need him. If you haven’t submit to his demands then he would leave you locked in until the next time he came by.

Just pretend to submit for your sanity and his trust, maybe he’ll let you out as long as he trusts you 😉

One word, four syllables. De-lu-soin-al. She firmly believes that you have been g*slit into hating her or that you were severely sick, how could you possibly want to run away from her!? You must be sick! She sets herself into the mindset of your caretaker, your savior. She would often find herself laying on your bed with you, held tightly to her chest. Yes, you still fought her for your “freedom”, but she wouldn’t let you….she needed you, just as much as you needed her.

“Please, my little bee, stop fighting me! Let me help you!”

“JUST LET ME CURE YOU! THOSE HORRIBLE PEOPLE INFECTED YOUR MIND, AND I NEED TO HELP YOU!”

“Oh, you can just stop trying now~ ..why? Cause you’re NOT gonna win!~ Hahahaha!” GCC would often grab you by your arms and fly up high into the sky, dangling you by your arms as you frantically try to hold onto her for dear life. Once she thinks you’ve had enough, she clutches you to her chest and slowly floated down to the ground. She then carried you back to her bedroom and cuddled you close to her chest.

“If you ever run away from me, I promise you, I will always find you…”

“I love you..even if you test me so much…”

“Please…I’ve tried for so long to get you here, where it is SAFE for you..! Just let me love you….” This cookie- OMG. He would try his best to understand why you were fighting against his love but all cookies have a breaking point. He would drag you to his bedroom and just lay on his bed, his arms wrapped around you for dear life. “My love….I love you but you test me so much….but I’ll keep trying…”

Only a small handful of cookies have seen HBC anything BUT joyful. But one day, you were the unfortunate Cookie to witness something that seemed…out of character for HBC, her RAGE. All of her out of character-ness at that moment stemmed from you trying to fight her for your freedom…

“WHY MUST YOU BE SO STUBBORN!? DON’T YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH I NEED YOU AND HOW MUCH YOU MEAN TO ME!? You’re my missing piece….a part of me that was taken from me before I was born….and I-…I can’t lose you again….you complete me…just please….stop fighting and stay with me….”

By the end of her tirade, you would be pinned against a wall or her bed (get your head outta the gutter.) with HBC’s hands death gripping your arms to your side and her head pressed against your chest. Tears would be flowing from her eyes and the room would be deathly silent.

Just give her what she wants….all she has left of her mental wellbeing is you…

(Hello reader! I want to thank you all for reading this post and I want to thank this Anon for sending me my first request!!!! I’m really excited to write for you all and I hope y’all have a great day!)

[milliesfishes]

Request! Reader tries to put herself in danger to help/protect Billy and he’s like ABSOLUTELY NOT

౨ৎ꣑ৎyou try to help billy౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid *based a little on the series finale because omg*

Love means supporting each other. Love means protection. Billy knew that better than anyone.

He kept his gun close and his loved ones closer. How else was he guaranteed those he cared for wouldn't be taken away from him? Like pages from the book of his life his family had been ripped from him. He wasn't going to let it happen with you.

You, whom his soul loved. You, soft and sweet and good, you who were everything he believed he lacked. He kept you like you were a firefly cupped in his hands, still letting you glow and breathe and fly if you so choose, but still close.

Billy had made his fair share of mistakes, but he wasn't going to screw up this time. Not with you at stake. Not with his girl, his sweetheart, his baby. He needed you like water, craved you like air.

Firmly, he kept his work and home life seperate, building a tall wall that kept you out of the dirt and grit of his gunslinger side. He made sure you never needed to know about anything he did to earn a living, smothering you with kisses and cuddles and distractions; pet names whispered in a honeyed tone, soft touches and extended time spent together. He spoiled you so you’d never have to know about the details of how he made a living.

Much to his frustration, he couldn't keep everything from you.

When you walked in on a discussion him and a few of the Regulators were having in the back room of the saloon about proceeding forward with an attack on a rival gang, his protection came in full swing.

He immediately jumped up, gently putting his arms around you as if he hadn't just been promising to exact revenge on those who'd wronged his men.

"Honey, what're ya doin' back here?" he asked, smoothing your hair with one of his rough hands. Maybe he babied you, maybe you made him soft, but he didn't care.

You looked up at him with the sweetest baby doll eyes he'd ever seen. Every time you looked at him, he thought that, but it made it no less special. "What are you talking about?"

Shaking his head lightly, he gave you an easy smile, thumbing your cheek as if smoothing it. "Nothin', baby. Just man's talk. Ain't nothin' important."

"But you were saying you were going to do something to someone," your pretty brow was furrowed, and he tried to smooth it out with his words.

"Darlin', ya don't need to worry 'bout none of that," he assured you, both his hands coming to hold your head. "Why don't ya go back in the other room, hm? I'll be over in justa minute."

His lips found your forehead in the hopes that it would convince you to leave, but you didn't. Instead, your hands came to his elbows. "Why are you talking about an attack?"

Damn. You'd heard more than he thought. Thinking there was no harm in giving you a little bit of information, he said, "We've just got somethin' to take care of, that's all."

"Can I come with?"

"No." The word was out of his mouth before he could regulate it, the tone harsher than he would have chosen. Seeing the slight surprise in your face from his suddenness, he tried to soothe it. "Sorry, baby. Just ain't a good spot for ya."

"Why not? I can help," you insisted, looking up at him determinedly. It was true that you could ride and shoot like the best of his men, better than some even. But There was no way in hell he was risking you like that.

"Sweetie, I ain't gettin' ya in trouble for nothin'," he said, gently but firmly. Billy's hands guided your head to his shoulder, holding it there.

"But you're gonna be getting in trouble," you tried to look up, but he was unmoving, and you felt his lips press to your hair and his nose dig into your part, inhaling softly.

"That's different and you know it," he muttered. One of his hands fell to your back, rubbing it softly.

"But I want to help," you tried, and his heart warmed at how earnest you were. Always such a sweetheart, wanting to shoulder his burdens.

Billy pulled you back so he could look you in the eye. "You stayin' safe is helpin'. Eases my mind." His thumb found your cheek again. "'m not puttin' my baby in danger when she don't needa be."

You seemed to see how unyielding he was in his decision, and so you gave him a nod. Exhaling in relief, he pulled you in for a hug. "Thank ya, sweetheart."

Obediently, you went back into the other room, and Billy turned back to his men, more determined than before. Your interruption had reminded him of what he was fighting for, and why he needed to come home safe.

Unfortunately, that wasn't in the cards.

The law caught up with him, setting a trap even the intricate circles of his gang couldn't have seen coming. He was behind bars before he knew it, in a cold cell faced with charges he couldn't even argue, because most of them were true. All he could think of was you, and how he wouldn't be coming home to your warm bed and snuggling up to you between the sheets.

Here he was stuck staring at the wall in an isolated cell, hoping the rest of his men had been able to get away.

It surprised him when after dark he heard keys jingling intermingled with footsteps, more than one set. He didn't think he'd be carted off to the next jail until morning. The door creaked as it swung open, and his surprise multiplied tenfold when you followed the deputy in.

"Got a visitor, Kid," the deputy grumbled, flipping through keys and sticking one into the lock of the cell. "Pretty one, too."

You held your head high as the door was opened, and Billy stood to greet you. He didn't know whether to scold scold or kiss you for coming to see him so late at night. "Baby-"

The decision was made for him as your lips came smashing against his, hand climbing to the back of his neck to pull his head down. His body responded immediately, holding your waist as his lips moved of their own accord. Once, he tried to pull back to say something but you cut him off with another urgent kiss.

Hands gripping his suspenders, you pushed him back to sit on his cot, climbing on top of him and sitting in his lap. All the while you were still kissing him like you never would again, your skirt bunched against your stomachs.

The deputy chuckled, and you turned around, giving him a longing look that almost made Billy laugh. Those baby doll eyes. The man turned back to his newspaper and you to Billy, pressing yourself close as your lips claimed his again.

It was a little jarring that you wanted to do this right in front of a stranger, but he was so glad to see you that he hardly gave it a thought. Instead, he focused on kissing his girl, making up for nearly a full day of not being able to do so. That was the real crime in his opinion. Lock him up for some other thing and throw away the key, so long as you were straddling his lap like this.

You removed his hand from your waist and his other arm immediately wrapped around it to keep you steady. He nearly gasped when you pressed his hand to your breast, his fingers immediately splaying over it.

After he held you there for a moment, you dragged his hand across your cleavage, and he felt something there. Something...hard.

Frowning in confusion, he reached under your blouse, but you stopped him, gesturing to the deputy with your eyes, leaning in and pecking his lips lightly. Billy got the message and moved his lips against yours sloppily. You let go of his hand and it continued its journey up your shirt, closing around that metallic, hard thing between your breasts.

Pulling it out, but keeping it hidden between your bodies, he kissed down your neck and opened his eyes barely. He would have recognized the feel of it anywhere, but of course he wanted to make sure.

A revolver, slightly warm from being pressed against your skin for who knows how long.

Looking up at you, Billy couldn't help the smile that spread over his face. He kissed you once more, pouring all his love and gratitude into it. I love you, I love you, I love you.

The deputy rapped on the bars, and you quickly took the gun, your hand dipping between his legs to hide it. The gesture made him grunt at where you accidentally brushed. Billy's knees closed the best they could to hold it there, and you stood, facing the jailer. "I'm ready."

He smirked, and unlocked the door, shaking his head as he did. "Young love..."

You grabbed the door by the bars and slammed it into the deputy's body hard. The sudden action sent him backwards and left him on the floor, unconscious.

Billy knew a signal when he saw one, and he leapt up, the gun in his hand. You knelt and stole the deputy's pistol, looking up at him with the same innocent eyes he'd always known.

When you stood, he took your arm and pulled you close for a deep, searing kiss. Your lips parted with a pop! and he said in a low voice, "My girl...bustin' me outta jail..."

"I told you I wanted to help," you breathed, and his lips found yours again.

"Told ya to stay outta danger," he muttered between kisses, his hand holding the gun tightening on your waist.

"I'm not made of sugar," you nudged your nose against his and he smiled.

"I beg to differ." Billy kissed the corner of your mouth. "M' baby's sweet as could be."

"You know what I meant," you giggled, and he nodded, kissing your chin.

"I know," he whispered, and he meant it, in every way possible. "Oh, I know."

You understood- he knew it from the look in your eyes. Your starry, bright eyes. Billy took your hand and pulled you out the door, sneaking past night guards and patches of moonlight to freedom.

Once you were past the walls, he pulled back to just look at you. His beribboned, badass sweetheart who'd thrown caution to the wind just to get him out.

He'd scold you between kisses snuggled up in bed later, but for now he was in awe.

Gun in hand, he pulled you into his arms, feeling his two worlds merge. With his chin on your head, he thanked his lucky stars that you'd seen how he'd been shrouded in darkness and embraced it while pulling him out.

[admirationandromantics]

Here we go again

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

This is the third part of my "Here we go again"-series. Again, as a reminder, this was written a long time ago, and I haven't looked it quite over yet. This part is sadly also shorter than the others...

This is also a mean bully!Ellie x reader, so if you're not into that, you're free to skip. (The whole series is this as well as 18+)

Thank you for reading <3

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

As I'm collecting myself, I can't help but keep sitting on the floor, my back against the wall and unable to stand. My head lifts and I stare at the ceiling. I breathe. In and out. Air in for four seconds, hold seven, out eight. I fail to hold my breath the first two times, but keep going until I find a rhythm. When i close my eyes, i can still feel pressure on my lips, hands over my body. When will I have the will to end it?

New day, new possibilities. My headache had faded after taking a couple of pills, and I managed to take the bus to the university to get some of my work done in the library. As I walk in the hallway, I hear loud whispers behind me, but right before I turn, a hand grabs my arm, preventing me. I`m met with a familiar face; Abby. Known as the strongest woman in our school, both on the basketball and volleyball teams. She has led them to victories for several years. At the moment, I believe she studies physical therapy, which I think fits her quite well. 

“Hey Abby, did you need anything?” I question, still surprised by her sudden encounter. 

She looks me up and down, but I can sense she’s unwell. Maybe a bit of angst. She doesn't remove her hand, but rather carefully release her grip, letting it slowly fall down my arm. It tickles, but not so much that I move away. For being such a strong and muscular being, she's touching me as if I'm porcelain. 

“I was wondering if you and Ellie had something going on?” she asks, now moving her hand from my arm and behind her neck. I'm silent, shocked by the question before I feel cold where her hand touched me, and I can't help but look down at it, missing the touch. Normally a reaction like this could be blamed on me being touchstarved, but its fucking Abby Anderson. Who wouldn't have butterflies flying around their stomach. My mind wanders to the question she asked. Me and Ellie…

“Umm, no I don't suppose we do”. Technically not a lie, as I had said; it was the LAST time we would do something like that again. And she hated me, though I could imagine she would be infuriated by not being able to do anything she would want with me. However, how would we relieve all the built up tension?

“Is that a no?”

“What”

“You don't want to?”

Damnit, what did she ask?? I try to remember as I go over the last thing she asked me; me and Ellie, me and Ellie, fucking hell.

“I'm so sorry Abby, I completely zoned out. What were you asking?”. I could feel the warmth reaching my cheeks. God. How embarrassing. I'm such a bad person. 

“Well-” she coughs. “If you guys are not a thing, I was wondering if I could take you out?”.

Abby Anderson was asking me out. Omg. My inner high-school-girl screams in my head. 

“Of course, that would be great”. 

She reaches out her arm, and I struggle with the zipper on my pencil case before getting it open and pulling out a pen. I write my number on her arm. Her big, strong arm. Just touching it feels illegal, like I'm messing with something that could only bring trouble. We say our goodbyes, and as I'm walking down the hallway, I spot Ellie with Dina and Jesse. She's staring at me, her eyes digging into mine, darkening. Just from the look, I know she saw everything. I don't feel guilty. She bites her lip, so little that I almost can't see it. I smile smugly, as I walk confidently past her. Dina is the one who runs after me. 

“Girl, what was that?”

“What?” I ask, giving a smile since I know exactly what she’s talking about. She hits me in my arm. 

“You know what I’m talking about”

“You have to say it out loud”

“Abby was talking to you, she never does. What did you talk about?”

“She asked me out”

“Oh lord”

“And I said yes”

“Oh lord”

She gives me a tight hug, jumping a bit. And I assure her that I have more classes and will tell her everything about the encounter when I get home.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

tank moment - mauga

summary; title slightly irrelevant, i wanted to be funny. iykyk

genre/extra tags; headcanons/bullet fic, i talk about mauga hcs i thought of on the fly, reader is implied to be a support character, reader is also part of talon group, fluff, i only know the bare minimum about him and that's all i need baby, is this platonic or romantic idk

[gender neutral reader] [canon typical violence mentioned]

a/n; im back on my overwatch era. it never really ended but, i want to write about him, mauga, the beloved. typing this on my phone and finishing on my computer if anything seems wonky shhh dont tell me i'll relive that mistake for days

also this is a somewhat lightly reseached- aka not fully accurate/detailed work. i briefly mention samoan culture and if it offends or if it's a mistake, please tell me and i will erase those parts asap.

[support me and buy a kofi]

🗣 ALRIGHT SO ‼️

i've been watching and playing with/against mauga since the trial to play him came out and god i love him

but he's kind of easy to counter (im an ana main, nade is fucking broken but that's just anti heal things) and his ult is annoying

anyways

every tank needs their heal bot to keep em up

you just happen to be mauga's heal bot KDJSJSJ

(baptiste is too probably but not really)

he's a really smug guy

no one really knows that bc he sounds so upbeat and nice

but he loves to tease you, poke at you bc he knows that you will answer to him most of the time and entertain him in conversation

you and him are probably in your world even when you're both in talon tbh

he does his own thing and you just happen to join in

(he totally baits you to join his plans and you both know it)

he's a chaotic and cunning man and you're his enabler

(sounds like me and my bestie tbh)

"a hero would sacrifice you to save the world but a villain would sacrifice the world to save you" type beat

he's lowkey possessive but we dont talk about that

jk we do talk abt it

he's your scary guard dog privileges

like that man is tall tall ‼️‼️

idk why but i dont really imagine him being like an openly sweet person

he keeps it private even with how loud he is

anyways

you know how he's on a yacht for his origin story and there's like a bunch of people who got destroyed by him?

yeah he would totally do that shit for u if you asked.

he would give you the best home but

"thanks for the new place and all but did you have to kill someone for it?"

"i mean come on! this place is nice! let's enjoy it!"

he's very "i'll do the dirty work, just sit back and look pretty." and then you're like, "yeah i could. but i won't."

dps support vibes for you ✨️

but also he's charging in most of the time so, there's not much time to dps support KDHDJDJJD

he's like the kool aid man bursting in through the walls /j

cough

back to the hcs here...

he's so tall and big, he would totally let you hang off his back like nunu and wilump (from league, yeah i play league dont remind me totally gonna write for heartsteel soon tm)

also he's literally the greatest heated blanket (ahead of roadhog)

he's so stronk and wowowowow im so gay i love him

when you're surrounded by some enemies, he's charging in, slamming the ground and carrying you with ease as he keeps you safe while destroying any enemies who even tried to touch you

ugh

despite his lack of pda, he's a very actions over words.

he's so silly

chivalry isn't dead when he breaks into a jewelry store for u 😍😍

if you ever have those crazy thoughts about crime, he's totally gonna enable you and let you reign havoc on god knows what.

love language is actions and gift giving. enough said.

when he gives you a hug, he's so fucking warm omg

i said it before and i'll say it again, he's the best heated blanket, literal furnace

bad for the people who sweat easily though (ahem me lowkey)

one the off-days where it's just a day off and relaxing, he's taking care of you well !!

when you're on talon missions, since he can't run around as easily unless he gets the okay but you do keep him company until then

he likes to protect but he loves destroying people

he knows you're able to care for yourself, so he can go crazy whenever, and he loves that.

he also loves watching you get mad or angrily passionate

"yes go, la'u ma’asoama!" (my rock/stone, get it? bc his name means mountain)

he is a really good hype man. even if you're the one in the wrong.

god I WISH I LOOKED UP MORE ABOUT HIM ARGBHYKFJ

soon (tm)

someday i'll write more.

[whatiswhump]

Can we have whumpee from rich family is locked in asylum scenario?, just watched vienna blood and theres this very minor character with similae story. I aching for more

Omg yes!! I actually have a story in the works of one just about that set in 1912! I have been wanting to post more parts so this is the perfect opportunity (and now I can't wait to watch Vienna Blood).

Here is Part 1

And here is the second now:

*note- historically antipsychotics were not in use until the middle of the 1900s, but I’m suspending that bit of history here… perhaps this doctor is ahead of his time… a trailblazer, if you please.

Averil Part 2

It was like a dream, maybe it was one.

He came in and out of consciousness , unable to lift his limbs or speak as men, strangers, looked down at him. 

“Yes, it was the right thing to do to sedate him, Dr. Green.”

“Okay boys- let’s get him up.”

He was being lifted. Then -

—

There were light blue walls and strangers, more men looking down at him. And so much talking. He was in a room in a bed. Sometimes people would walk in but he wasn’t sure.

He was so confused and tired. So heavy. So very very tired. Sometimes he woke up and would begin to cry but he didn’t know why. But eventually he would lose himself again or someone would walk in and ask him to swallow something.

Something tar like and black. Maybe poison?

If he didn’t open his mouth more would come, “Hold him. Press the joints open-”

“Good Averil, just behave- swallow now.”

At one point he woke up and there was a man with a chair sitting by him. He began to talk but Ave didn’t know what he was saying. Vaguely, it occurred to him that his brain wasn’t working. It wasn’t working at all.

The man left eventually. He came back with others who stood over him with papers, “His family requested his admission. Parents were embarrassed by him, had been using a private doctor to keep him managed until he called us.” “Did they give a history?” “No, we haven’t spoken with them but the doctor maintains this was a sudden nervous break. No previous signs.”

The talking continued, he was hearing some of the voices better now, but he was too groggy to want to listen. He was too groggy to even lift his head.

-

He woke up and there was a man with a chair sitting by him. He began to talk. Ave’s eyes felt red and puffy, he didn’t think he had been crying. His body felt stiff and his head congested. But after he had established those sensations, the words of the man started to trickle through the fog.

“-Averil, but you will get used to medicine. The antipsychotic will make you tired but you need it, it’s for your own good.”

Antipsychotic?

He stared at the man, no words coming, empty despite trying, he was trying to form thoughts, form words, but they just weren’t coming.

“You’re lucky, you’re one of the very first patients to get this treatment. It’s so much more humane for the insane than the barbaric things we used to treat your condition with. I want to change the way we treat mental infirmity. Poor souls like you can’t help it-”

Ave felt afraid but he couldn’t tell the man. He was right, something must’ve been very very wrong with him at this moment for him to be paralyzed in his mind like he was.

“Oh, don’t weep Mr. Lansing. You’re alright, you poor thing.” The man was standing and wiping tears away from his face like a child.

He had been crying?

“You need more rest. Today was just a flying visit anyway, curious more than anything if you’d be surfacing yet. I’ll let the nurse know to come in and assist you.”

In a tumbling of moments, he was replaced by a woman in white with a scowl on her face, tutting at him, “It won’t do you any good all this crying. Especially not to the doctor. Let’s get you settled down and calm down for a rest.” Then there was an instantaneous prick in side and the world was dimming again.

-

Ave came into consciousness slowly and the first thing he registered was that his head hurt. He lay in his bed, eyes closed, unwilling to face the morning yet. Maybe he would fall asleep again? And he would feel better the next time he woke? The footman hadn’t come to wake him yet and draw the shades so it had to be early still.

The footman, Robert… the thought of him twisted something in his stomach. Why? Visions of being held down through the blur of tears returned to him. Ave suddenly felt like he might get sick. He opened his eyes and threw off the sheets to swing his legs off the bed into sitting.

But he wasn’t in his room?

A dull confusion replaced the urgency of his alarm. This wasn’t a room in his house. The walls were light blue tile with wire grates on the windowed door and the single window above standing height. The only object in the room was the small bed he was perched on.

He was trying to take in his surroundings as movement flickered in his peripheral. The window in the door at head height, a woman in white was looking through at him. She stepped away from the window and then the sound of a key turning through the tumblers of a lock. The door opened to a man in glasses, circular in tortoise shell.

“Hello Averil, I’m glad you’re awake,” he smiled and Ave gripped his hands together close in to his chest. He wasn’t used to being addressed by his first name by strangers.

“Where am I? What is going on?” He uttered at a whisper. Dread pooled in his stomach. Something was deeply deeply wrong.

The man smiled knowingly, as if he understood Ave’s confusion well.

“You are at Norfolk Asylum for the Feeble Minded.”

“I- don’t…. I don’t-” 

“Why don’t you get back into bed and we can discuss further-”

Electric shock like flashes reminded him of being forced into a bed, a needle-

“No- no thank you, I’d prefer to sit.” His throat felt hoarse like he’d been ill, it made his voice sound unusual and unlike his own.

The man turned and looked at the lady in white who stood behind him, “I think we reduced it too much.”

She nodded and wrote something on her clipboard.

“Averil, you are weak, it’s best you listen and lie back down.” The man came over and with firm hands to steer him back into the bed.

But this had happened before, he was sure of it, and someone was screaming in the hall.

“Get off of me!” He garbled in horror as he wrenched himself away, rolling himself off the other side of the bed away from the grip.

He stumbled but righted himself, backing into the corner of the room. The nurse pursed her lips and briskly turned out of the room, the man- the doctor, was holding his hands up to assuage, “-Averil, be a good boy, don’t fight this. You are confused and you need to rest-”

He was only in a gown, not so much as a stitch of clothing under it he could feel. When had this happened? He was mortified. Nothing about any of this was right. 

“No!! Stay away from me or-... Contact my parents- Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright of Worthington Avenue-”

The nurse filed back into the room with two men behind her. Ave was already clutching the wall to keep himself upright but he held his hands out to ward them off. 

“I’m warning you- stay away- you’re all making a mistake!” He was sweating profusely and the room began to spin.

“Averil, you are confused, that is not your name, you are Averil Lansing. Now you are going to behave and let these helpful men get you back into bed or there will be consequences,” The doctor, more confident now with his reinforcements, directed sternly.

“Stay away!” He screamed, his voice cracking, “I am Averil Cartwright! You are detaining me here unlawfully!”

The doctor shook his head woefully at the young new patient and then with a curt nod, gave the orderlies a wordless order.

They surged towards him. In the end, it took four of them altogether to get him onto the bed, restrained with every limb secured and injected. The sedation always made the light vanish from their eyes so quickly, as if soulless suddenly. But also at peace.

Medicine really was a modern marvel.

@inkstainsonmyhands12 @jancameforthewhump @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @pupboy-dot-com

Ask if you'd like to be tagged :)

[winn-schott-throughtheheart]

Since you mentioned her in the last post, what are your feelings/headcanons on the whole Winn/Lyra situation? I’ve always wished people talked about it more, I hated them together but I was also hopeful that it would turn into a really insightful plotline that would bring in some of his past trauma and give him a little more to do than comic relief, but, well, we know how well the show did with literally anything about his character depth 🫠 I have some fics I wrote about it but it always felt like too oddly specific a subject to publish since she was such a minor character, so now that I’ve found someone who likes Winn as much as I do I figured asking for your thoughts would be the next best thing!

oh my goddd don't even I hate her so much.

she had NO problems hurting winn at all, but the moment she gets captured she's suddenly all "I never wanted to hurt you, you made me do this." SHE FRAMED HIM FOR GRAND LARCENY!! and I highly doubt winn had divulged his past experiences with law enforcement and criminal activity to her, but honestly that might make it worse?? he cannot catch a break or a decent partner omg

when winn and james go to find her at the trailer park, she LITERALLY SAYS SHES PREPARED TO KILL HIM!! SHE THREATENS TO KILL HIM! she's sexually domineering and physically violent, which is shown more than once. she completely disregards all the effort winn goes to to make last minute plans for valentines day and, when he expresses he prefers to get to know someone first, forces herself upon him anyways. he mentions her leaving bruises on him, which I admit could have been consensual, but based on literally everything else, i wouldn't get my hopes up, especially considering just how quick she is to anger. if the roles were reversed, and a woman went to the effort of getting her boyfriend's favourite dessert so she could let him down as gently as she could, only to have him fly off the wall, smash a bottle in her face and threaten her with physical violence in a public setting, he'd be the most hated character in the show! but because he's a guy, it's fine, right?? it's funny?? AND JAMES IS AT FAULT HERE TOO BECAUSE HE WITNESSES THIS, AND STILL THINKS ITS APPROPRIATE TO GET THEM BACK TOGETHER!!!! and the fact that winn goes right back to her after is actually so upsetting, i would hedge the bet that he's never had a good relationship in his entire damn life.

and I don't know if you've heard of the analogy with cats, wherein if someone expresses hatred or disdain for cats (usually on the basis that they're "unpredictable" or "can't love you back" or "difficult") then it's actually just an issue of them not respecting the cats boundaries and consent. lyra. eats. cats. or at least she thinks it's funny to joke about. im so fucking glad she wasn't a recurring character, 5 episodes or however many she gets is already too many. anyway tldr I fucking hate lyra <3

also pleaseeee please send me any fics you have if you're comfortable!!! I'd loveee to read them!!! obviously as long as it's not painting lyra in a good light lmfaooo

[cairoisashapeshifter]

GoW Best friend Baldur x Reader Headcannons

▪︎ Warnings: a little cussing, angst at the final 5 points, death.

▪︎ Word count: 1,335

▪︎ A/N: Best Friend Baldur might be my favourite thing ever. I love him platonically so so much omg. Here are some of my headcannons for him as a best friend!

• Bestfriend! Baldur knew he liked your personality when you two first met and tried to kill each other and instead cracked so many jokes and had so much fun he forgot what he what he even tried to do in the first place.

• Bestfriend! Baldur who knew you two would be close friends when you poured water for the both of you one night "I can't taste that shit" "If someone said 'I can taste the water' I'd be worried".

• Bestfriend! Baldur dubbed you his closest friend when he noticed you never ate or drank in front of him even if you were hungry or thirsty.

• Bestfriend! Baldur had the love language of words. Because he couldn't feel, when you two hung out your touch would be telling each other affirmations. "I care about you, you know that?" "I know." It made you realise just how important words are when it comes to showing care.

• Bestfriend! Baldur has the voice of a dying animal but loves to sing. His favourite things to sing are sea shanties or the equivalent of "Another Irish drinking song" - which would be his favourite if he was in the modern world - and he loves it when you join in and sing equally as bad, even if you can actually sing.

• Bestfriend! Baldur loves music and knows how to play instruments really well, if you give him any and a few hours or days, he would learn the basics and play it like he had played it his entire life. When he was over at your house, he would play you music all the time. You even had a little Baldur corner filled with all of his favourite instruments he can play.

• Bestfriend! Baldur doesn't care how high he flies with his dragon because he doesn't feel a thing, but, when you became part of his life and rode with him, he always made sure to fly slowly and close to the ground much to your chagrin.

• Bestfriend! Baldur loves comedy. He would spend most of your time together telling crude and vulgar jokes that never ceased to make you laugh. One of his favourite activities is you and him just sitting together somewhere and trying to see who can make either the best joke or the worst.

• Bestfriend! Baldur likes to tattoo himself he hopes that through it he can feel anything. But, when you two were sitting alone and he was working on his leg and you reach an arm out and said "I want one" He never hesitated and gave you tattoos all over one side of your body that matched his own over time. Eventually he tattooed your name on himself in a prayer reserved for siblings or family members, soon enough, you asked for a matching one with his name.

• Bestfriend! Baldur liked making bets and dares with you, especially crazy ones. "Bet you can't climb the wall of Asgrad", "....try me". This was how you met Heimdall and eventually everyone else after you went to the great lodge.

• Bestfriend! Baldur definitely arm wrestles you. He wins every time but he likes to sit down and do it anyway. Over time, you actually became strong enough to hold your own against him and even win at times which he delighted in. This became the way you two said hello to each other, no words, you see each other, you arm wrestle.

• Bestfriend! Baldur has zero self care for obvious reasons but when you two met, he began letting you braid his hair and beard. If the day happens to be a day where you want it slow, he just sits down and let's you play with his hair as much as you like. He found the activity partially boring but since you two had the most in depth conversations during this time he also found it relaxing.

• Bestfriend! Baldur loves to fight and since you have the best friend you also have the pleasure of him trying to get you two to have a friendly match. At first you were against it, but ever since he offered to personally train you and you two have been doing it none stop to the point where it became second nature to 'play' fight.

• Bestfriend! Baldur doesn't like when his touched outside of wrestling or play fighting because it reminded him of his curse but when you flopped down on his lap with your head rested on his thighs after a really bad day he let you stay and would run his hand through your hair. He realised that you do so much to make him comfortable around you so he let you have this for an hour everyday. You never told him he was accidentally pulling your hair sometimes.

• Bestfriend! Baldur spent most of his life without intimacy and he yearned to feel that way again, to feel so close to someone and to hold and kiss and be able to love and be loved by them but he never had that or understood platonic intimacy or love until he met you. You were often the person he went to first for anything, if he was frustrated he would vent to you, if he was happy he would go and share it with you first, if he wanted something he always told you first. But beyond that, you were the one who always offered him that verbal platonic intimacy he needed.

• Bestfriend! Baldur and you had this almost psychic connection. If anything happened to the other you would feel it. If he had a angry day you found yourself anticipating and preparing for it unconsciously, if something bad happened to you he would be in front of your door because "I jus'knew", he never was wrong.

• Bestfriend! Baldur's last moment when he said "snow" was because he wanted to feel the world around him, feel the snow touch his skin for the first time in years. But he also remembered all the time you and him had snow ball fights or made snow valkyries on the ground or created snow men only two throw each other at them, his last thought was he wanted to do all those things again with you one last time.

• Bestfriend! Baldur's death was something your felt like a void in your chest. Like something had been suddenly ripped away. You only understood when he never showed up again

• Bestfriend! Baldur's mother, Freya, watched you from her front door with confused eyes until you said "He-He was my best friend". She held you close to her chest as you both cried together, her quietly listening through her tears as you tried to tell her all the things you two did through choked sobes.

• Bestfriend! Baldur's mother, Freya, became like your own family. She would teach you all that she knew and listen to you as you spoke of him, she would hold you when things became hard, and read you stories she would read to him as a child. She became so much like family to you, you accidentally called her mom a few times and she let you. Eventually you were known as Child of Freya and Sibling of Baldur.

• Bestfriend! Baldur's mother, Freya and you got close because both of you were looking for a peice of him in each other. She found a peice of him in you in the shape of the habits he had that you picked up, in the instruments you played that used to belong to him, in the way you joked and told stories, and in the stories about him you gave. In her you saw the qualities in him that he never knew he got from her, like her penitent for singing or humming, like the way she let you rest your head on her thighs after a hard day.

[spacejip]

dreamscape review !!

my ranking is: 1 - you 2 - flying kiss 3 - no escape 4 - best of me 5 - heavenly / night poem 6 - when i’m with you / i hate fruits 7 - off the wall / intro: dreamscape don’t be fooled by this ranking, i would actually put all the remaining songs in number 4. they all can fight!!

intro: dreamscape - i loved so much mark doing high notes, specially in this one, he slayed. - i’m happy it’s more than 2 mins long, i thought it would be shorter considering it’s an intro to the album

when i’m with you - i’m not a fan of this genre but these mfs made me like this either way... - obsessed with jisungs parts (high notes and rap) - don’t get me started on verse 3 (where mark, jaemin, jisung and jeno do the “you know what i mean” rap) makes me elevate

flying kiss - ngl when i heard it before the album release i thought this could be the title track… still think so - chenle being center in the chorus is so 😦😳😛🥵 like his movements omg “born to dance forced to sing” king - chenle’s adlibs my god - this song is tattooed in my brain without my consent (won’t complain) - THAT BRIDGE??!!!! - the mwah you can hear in the song is actually me btw :3

i hate fruits - at first, i didn’t really like it. but the more i listen to it, the more i fuck with it. (UPDATE, 6 days after this and istg this might be one of my favs now dafuq?) - i love the instrumental - jeno singing 과일이 싫어, lo-lo-love you so bad……..

no escape - chenle in this is my fav chenle - his lines are 🥵 he just sings with IDK HOW TO PUT IT IN WORDS force???? strenght???? power???? like he’s spitting the lyrics, idk if you guys get me ☹️ - i wouldn’t mind if chenle spat the lyrics on my face fr - hot song, really (ik the lyrics are not "hot", the vibes are)

best of me - THAT INTRO… reminds me a little of the weekend and (don’t call me crazy) sunflower by post malone and swae lee - this is my fav genre (idek the name) - i missed them making this kind of songs - 119 🤝 best of me

you - THE LOVE OF MY LIFE - IF I COULD GET MARRIED TO THIS I WOULD - i love it so much i’m scared i’ll over play it…… - this one makes me want to cry - chenle, renjun and haechan in this are like angels - the lyrics are 🤌🏼 - JENO SINGING THE CHORUS??? while i was writting this i had to look it up because every time i played it, i couldn’t really tell who was the one singing before chenle IT WAS JENO OMG i’ll burst - this one sits at the same table with my youth and rainbow, idc what you say - the three of them make me so emotional ☹️

heavenly - this one right here surprised me a lot, i thought this would be my least favorite BUT SHE PROVED ME WRONG (yes, it’s a she🙂‍↕️) - she boosts my mood EVERY TIME - CHENLE AND HAECHAN ARMONIZING BEFORE THE CHORUS i fell to my knees - also is it just me? when everyone is singing the chorus, the one that stands out the most is renjun and i LOVE that - i feel like this one fits him so well :,)

night poem - this one is also inside my head 24/7 - idk how to explain it but it sounds like a really silly song (DEFINITELY IN A GOOD WAY!!) - it’s the same silly feeling blue wave gives me - i swear i get giggly with this one idk how to explain it - BAAAMSAE‼️🗣️ - mood booster number 2 - this is the only one i couldn’t imagine with a choreography. this might be one of those that dream performs while running all over the stage while doing fan service AND I LOVE THAT

off the wall - again, not really my type of song but how can i not like it 😫 - the post chorus and “to the left to the right” is so cute like i can’t wait to see it on live (a girl can dream) - mood booster number 3

rains in heaven - do i even have to say anything? - renjun coming back just to make this song is so ☹️🫶🏼 (did you guys notice i don’t know how to express myself?) - WE ARE MORE THAN WHAT WE ARE MADE TO THINK i would tattoo this if i wasn’t scared of tattoos………. - CAUSE ILL BE THEREEEEE AAAHHH haechan makes me s(cream) - the adlibs chenle does in the end omg… gives me shivers every time

i was so hyped and excited for this, and i can confidently say this album topped my expectations. k fans are crazy if they think this is bad... they’re just mad because OBVIOUSLY dreamies can’t promote the songs in korea right now.

[the-broken-truth]

OMG, i just love your platonic yandere gow stuff and i kinda have a prompt that i just can't get out of my head and i wanted to know if you'll up for writing it

so lets say that reader is well lets say understatemented because of how much people don't really see him as anybody else then being kratos son and loki's/atreus brother

so… what if lets say the reader sees the peeps (sif, thor, heimdall, freya and anybody else you want) in trouble and reader being seen as the weakling out of his family suprisingly saves there life like they do some powerful magic shit

Sorry if you don't want to write about this, but it was just stuck in my head and i wanted to share

thank you and goodbye :>

Broken Truth (Looks at the ask): Let's be honest - Thor and Heimdal can handle themselves in a fight, Lady Sif really wouldn't leave Asgard and Thrud would be able to defend herself without any help; so I'll write for Freya because she's the only one I can see getting into trouble and needing help. If I think of someone else, I'll come back to this ask and add to it. I hope that's okay.

Someone gave me an idea to make [Name] something like the Dragonborn from Skyrim because I gave his voice power in the Thrud Extension and it would do good in this.

I'm thinking of giving [Name] a name, what do you guys think about 'Nithe' for a name? It means Dragon or Serpent in Old Norse if my research is valid. Anyway, let the words weave together.

[Freya]

Freya was looking for some kind of rare ingredient in the land where the dragons were plentiful, it was quiet for a while when she found the ingredient but that's when the dragon attacked. Freya did what she could and used her magic along with her combat skills but the creature overpowered her and knocked her into the wall, causing her to drop her sword and slump to the ground. She looked at the creature with blurry vision as it slowly stalked toward her before charging at her; she closed her eyes and waited for the impact but it never came, she opened her eyes when she heard the dragon roaring in anger and pain, and came face to face with an unbelievable panorama.

A single body stood between Freya and the Dragon & that body was [Name] - the youngest & 'weakest' of the Sons of Kratos. Holding the head of the dragon still as it struggled and tried to get away from him.

"Dovah Mul!" [Name] roared out in an unknown language as he began lifting the dragon up and threw it against the wall, making it slump to the ground. [Name] looked at the downed beast with an unknown fury in his eyes, this made Freya rise to her feet and hold her bleeding arm.

"[Name]? What are you doing here?" Freya asked.

"Stay back, Lady Freya, I'll deal with this." [Name] demanded as the dragon began to stand again. The beast inhaled and shot a river of fire in [Name's] direction, he inhaled and spoke in the strong language again.

"Yol Toor Shul!" [Name] roared out as a river of fire left his jaws and collided with the dragon's canceling each other out before he inhaled again and hit the dragon in the face with his fire, causing the creature to screech in pain and fly away from the agony. [Name] watched to make sure it was gone before turning his attention to Freya, who healed her wound. "Are you alright, Your Majesty?"

"I...I am fine. How did you do that? You had the strength of a dragon and you could breathe fire like one; aren't you a human?" Freya asked as she walked over to [Name] who shook his head.

"I'm half-giant & half-god. My Blood holds the blood of a dragon, my mother found that out a long time ago and was training me to learn more about controlling it but ever since she died, father refused to train me." [Name] explained it as he looked around for something.

"What are you looking for?" Freya asked as she followed his gaze but couldn't see anything.

"I heard that this dragon took a very powerful steel and I wanted to use it to make a weapon for myself." [Name] said as he walked over to the dragon's hoard and began digging through all the various metals until he found the one he was looking for. "I need to get back home and craft my weapon before father and Atreus get back." [Name] began walking to the ledge of the high point before Freya called out to him.

"Wait, have you thought about my offer? Will you become my son and the brother Baldur saw in you?" Freya asked him.

"I...I can't see myself leaving y father and brother. Please understand, Lady Freya" [Name] said as he turned and sprouted dragon wings and began flying away.

"I understand that you are too good for him and I shall make you my son, [Name]." Freya said as she went to the hoard and got the ingredients she needed.

[orisquirrelking]

When i tell you i RAN to this askbox.... Can i request some seasonal Egon fluff? Maybe something about carving pumpkins? Thank you so much!!!

OMG HIIII YESSSS HEHE i love Halloween and i love Egon so. Yes. i will be writing the shit out of this.

—————————————-

The firehouse was decked out in cheesy dollar-store halloween decorations. Orange and black tinsel fluttered above your head at the entrance of the building, and you grinned. This was totally Ray’s idea, you mused. He was known to be the firehouse’s local Halloween enthusiast.

As you walked up the stairs, you heard loud voices and sounds of things getting mushed onto walls. Stepping into the main living room, you began to announce your presence, but instead narrowly dodged a flying orange… glob?

“Jesus, did Slimer make a new friend?” You joked, wiping the excess of pumpkin guts from your shoulder.

“Excellent, you’re here!” Ray exclaimed, firing back at Peter, who was hiding behind an upturned table, shit eating grin on his face. “We were TRYING to decorate the firehouse but Venkman keeps goofing off!” He complained, and pointed your gaze towards the hollow pumpkins on the floor in-between the two men.

“I didn’t start this” Peter protested, peeking out from behind the table, giving ray the stinkeye. “Innocent ol’ Stantz dumped friggin’ pumpkin guts onto my uniform!” He whined. “Well maybe if you didn’t leave your uniform on the floor i wouldn’t have ruined it!” Ray shot back.

You sighed, picking up as many pumpkins as you could, piling the carving tools into them, peering over the edge of one to look at Peter and Ray. “Where are Winston and Spengs?” You inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Lab and kitchen respectfully. Im sure you can figure out who’s where.” Peter said playfully. “Great! I’m going to go carve these, and you two are going to clean this place up before we get our next call.” You said, pointing at the two. “I mean it! If im up here and the Spud comes in for a slice of pumpkin a la guts, im coming for you.”

The two men jokingly saluted at you as you took the soon-to-be decorations downstairs to Peter’s office, then heading to the lab.

“Spengs! You called?” You said, jogging down the stairs to the basement, opening the door. A call from your favourite buster was the reason you were at the firehouse at such a late hour in the first place.

Egon looked up from his papers, sliding his glasses back up his nose, looking almost shocked to see you. “Ah, yes. You sorted out the problem upstairs, correct? I couldn’t get anything done with those two bickering.” He huffed, standing up. You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Yeah yeah, world war three is over. Need anything else?” Egon shook his head, nervously adjusting his tie. “I uh.. did you need any help up there?”

You instantly brightened up. “I actually do! There are these pumpkins, and-“ you explained your new task to him, mindlessly grabbing his hand and dragging him upstairs to Peter’s office.

“And here’s our stock!” You said with a dramatic flourish. “Roll up those sleeves, we’re going elbow deep!” Egon raised his eyebrows, amused, doing as you said. “Now… what designs do ya think we should have? Ghost is an obvious one, so…” you trailed off as Egon picked up a carving tool.

“I think we should do a mushroom.” He suggested, hand clasping his neck. “There’s nothing more fall-like than foraging. Did you know there’s actually a fungus called the Jack-o-Lantern fungus? It glows in the dark!” Egon rambled. You smiled as he pulled out an encyclopedia, flipping to a bookmarked page. “The cap is convex, flat, and has a funnelled shape all at once!” He pointed to each section of the pictured diagram as he spoke.

You took the book from Egon, taking a pen and carefully referencing, you drew up the said mushroom on the pumpkin. “Would you do the honours?” You said, pointing the carving tool at him, simultaneously placing his book somewhere it couldn’t get dirty. “Would I!” He eagerly took the tool from you, thrusting it into the pumpkin. You sat in Peter’s chair, propping up your head in your hand, smiling at how excited the man was. He was kind of cute, if you were being honest.

“Excuse me?” Egon said, visibly shocked. “Huh?” You said, shaking yourself out from your small rest. “I’m kind of cute, huh?” He grinned at you, face red.

“….Yes.” You said deciding to take your idiocy in stride. “Ha. Nice.” He said, still grinning, going back to carving the pumpkin.

You two would work this out later. For now, you were content in carving pumpkins with your closest friend.

[no-droids]

Kar’taylir

gif credit @sersi​

Part Thirteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.8K

Warnings: language, angst and fluff, descriptions of a dead body, no real smut in this one but there is some nudity and touching, uhhh i think thats it tbh

A/N: Omg hi hi hello this was written in a week and a half so please be gentle, also I’m back on my linguistics bullshit and I can absolutely guarantee a vast majority of it is inaccurate

***

Everybody is asleep and you’re just a complete mess.

Truly.  And it fucking sucks, because this should be enjoyable.  This is home.  You’re in hyperspace, the hull is pitch black, the baby is asleep, and Din’s breathing is slow and quiet through the darkness.  Your cheek presses to his chest as it rises and falls hypnotically, you’re comfortable and safe and this would normally be a dream.  But your eyes are wide open right now and you are just going through it.  Spiraling in the midst of the most stable surroundings you could possibly conceive.

You suppose that this is partially your fault.  You don’t know why literally any part of you expected Din would explain himself without prompting from you, but you still couldn’t work up nearly the nerve necessary to ask.  Every potential question you came up with contradicted your intent, every way you tried to mentally phrase it gave off the wrong impression.  How do you ask somebody if they were being serious about something without revealing anything about your own intentions?  You can’t—that’s a downside of staying silent.

Din hasn’t said a single word since he urged you to leave the shooting range earlier, and he didn’t really seem like the quiet didn’t suit him, if that makes sense.  Yours was awkward, it fit you wrong.  You struggled for words while he easily ignored their existence altogether, able to navigate the Crest into hyperspace and exist comfortably around you without ever addressing the giant bantha in the room.  Maybe that’s part of the reason you floundered so hard—he didn’t avoid you, he held the kid while you took a shower in the small fresher, and even though he was quieter around you than he’d been in awhile, he gave no indication that anything was wrong at all.

You spent that time getting clean but also formulating some sort of plan.  As you bathed in actual water for the first time in a week and scrubbed your body clean, you tried to figure out at least why you were having so much trouble coming up with something to say, but even then, words evaded you.  You spent the entire time staring blankly at the metal wall, at a complete fucking loss.

When you came out of the fresher with wet hair and comfortable clothing to sleep in, Din was armorless and resting in your makeshift bed on the floor, the baby tucked soundly in his crib next to him.  You turned off the lights and carefully found your way under the blankets next to him in the pitch blackness, feeling him lazily reach around you and pull you to rest against his chest.  His fingers gently drew circles along your arm for maybe the first few minutes while you worked up the nerve to speak.  You needed to say something, this was your chance—

But then his hand soon fell to rest in one place on your shoulder and he passed out.  Helmet on, not even a few minutes of your quiet breathing next to him.

So now, you’re here, just… a little ball of stress in the middle of paradise.  Hours have passed, you need sleep after such a physically exhausting week but it’s like you haven’t even processed the fucking proposition he presented to you yet.  You’re having trouble even thinking the words, that’s how much he’s got you fucked up.

He said… hit the target and I’ll ma…. hit the target and I’ll marrrrr…

Fuck.  You stay on that loop for ages until your eyes begin to grow heavy, until you just settle on thinking about it with them closed.  Slow breaths from Din under one ear, the silence of hyperspace all around you—how are you supposed to contemplate when his body is so warm?  No, you can ask tomorrow, you’ll ask him tomorrow.

Eventually, you’re able to drift off into a troubled slumber, dreaming of bells made of beskar that deafen anyone who rings them.

***

You wake up what feels like two minutes later.

It’s not, but you don’t know that.  You’re so warm and the second your eyes open, they start stinging and burning and tearing up like your body just wants to cry for even being awake right now.  You finally got to sleep—you moan pitifully and start to turn your head further into the warm blankets, but then a gloved hand smooths your hair back and a voice whispers quiet through the darkness.

“I have to go.”

And oh, his touch is just the gentlest thing, but what he says makes your already fragile mental state want to shatter.  The first words he gives you in hours and they’re the ones you loathe to hear the most.

“W-Wha?  No,” you whimper and automatically reach for him, your throat starting to close up.  Maker, you’re so tired, you’re so tired, you feel so fucking emotional and vulnerable right now and you’re not even awake enough to realize it.  “Why?”

Din just catches your hands and brings both of them together in front of him, slowly pressing your knuckles to the cold beskar on the face of his helmet.

“I meet with Karga in three days,” he murmurs back, voice pillow-soft and barely loud enough to come through the steel under your fingers.  It’s gentle and lulling and it makes you want to sleep again, but you can’t and you feel like you could burst into tears for that reason alone.  “He gave me four pucks, I need four bodies.”

You can’t argue with it, the logic is perfectly sound.  But you still want to, and everything inside you revolts at the thought of allowing him leave like this without fighting for more.  Which means you have absolutely nothing reasonable or compelling to say to appeal to him; all you’re left with the glaring truth.

“But I don’t want you to leave,” you whisper, tightening your fingers.

And, perhaps if you were even half-conscious, you’d wince.  You’d cringe at the shake in your voice, you’d remind yourself that he has to make a living, he’s said it over and over again.  If you were completely awake, you’d scold yourself for being such a needy mess, but right now, all you can think about is how much you want him to stay, just this once.

After a moment, you feel the gloves carefully collect both of your hands into just one of his, and then he slowly reaches out with his free hand to cradle your jaw.

“I won’t be gone long,” Din murmurs.  “I can’t be.”

Your head turns slowly in his palm, and you’re just so, so sleepy.  Your voice is small and your words slur.  “Stay with me.”

Quiet, and though you can’t see him, the leather continues to press so warm to your cheek.  Your eyes slowly drift shut, needing him to stay exactly like this, stay right here just like this.  Karga can wait, the quarry can wait, the galaxy can wait—everything else can wait when things are like this, when he’s looking down at you breathing slow into his palm.

You’re almost asleep again when you hear him say something.

But… you have no idea what he says.  You hear it.  You hear his voice come through the pitch black, quiet enough to sit just on top of the silence and let the mysterious words simply become a part of it, but it’s strange.  Like his cadence lilts in a different way, the vowels are longer than what you’re used to, and your comprehension abruptly falters like it would if he was speaking another language altogether.

Maybe it’s just because it’s the first thing to pull you back from the edges of sleep, that has to be right.  It doesn’t sound like Basic because your mind is stupid and slow right now.  You need to ask him to repeat himself, but all that you can muster is the soft sound of confusion, not even able to open your eyes anymore.

His hands pull away from you and once again, you suddenly can’t decide between sleep and crying, quickly lifting and trying to reach out for him in the darkness.  You can’t feel anything, it’s like he’s completely disappeared from where you assumed he’d be, except then something tiny is placed into your hands instead and it makes an unhappy little sound at being disturbed.  You automatically hold the baby close to your chest and strong hands touch your shoulders, urging you to lay back down again.

“Leave the engine running, you’ll freeze if you don’t,” he mutters, quickly tucking the blankets up under your body while you close your eyes and feel the tears wet your lashes.  Fuck, you’re so exhausted, you just need to sleep.  “If I’m not back in sixteen hours, I’ll use my e-comm and you’ll have to fly out to me.”

He steps away from you, walks quickly and with purpose to the side of the hull, and a blast of frigid air fills the room before the door is slammed shut behind him.

***

Your head hurts.

Sparks and wires give your fingers mean, zapping reminders to pay attention every time your focus slips, but you still feel like you’re in a daze.

“Come on,” you drone, trying to use your voice to snap yourself back into the present, but the sound of it isn’t even interesting enough to pull you away.  “Come on.”

Maker, you’re going fucking crazy.  Is this just all an elaborate scheme to make you experience the same kind of insanity he told you he struggles with in your absence?  Because you don’t like this—you hate feeling like this, you can’t concentrate on anything and even if he hadn’t instructed you to do so, you’d likely still be counting the hours of his absence.

Fourteen have passed so far, not the sixteen you’re waiting for but getting close.  It’s one thing you’ve been able to accomplish.  Counting.  You can still count right now, so at least there’s that.

Oh, and another hoop you’ve jumped through.  Understanding words.  You can listen and repeat, even if you still can’t fully comprehend, but you’re getting there.

Din said… hit the target and I’ll marry you.

He said that.  Yep.  You’ve accepted it, you’ve accepted the words that were said.  Indeed.

Okay, but now… like…

What did he mean by that?  Why did he say that?

No matter how much you tell yourself he was just messing around—no matter how many times you offer up that perfectly logical answer to the burning question you’ve been sitting on, you still aren’t satisfied with it.  Something keeps tugging your mind back to it, a tether constantly pulling you away from the work that’s designed to be your distraction.

You frown down at the box of machinery.  Whelp, if he was serious, he’d probably immediately take the offer back after witnessing your behavior this morning.  You embarrassed yourself terribly, you acted like a clingy baby in the looming shadow of unconsciousness and what’s worse, you can’t even remember what he said after you begged him to stay.  It could’ve been a quiet, “Stars, pull yourself together,” for all you know.

And honestly, just… fuck these electronics.  You’re at the point where you’d probably cheer on whatever brutal impact damaged them so atrociously if you weren’t also well aware that this box was very likely attached to Din’s chest when it was crushed.  The magnetics are a complete mess, and you’re mostly just attempting to see how the individual components of each piece are supposed to communicate.  Turning the switch on doesn’t do much at all besides make the capacitors put out heat.  Not enough to shut it down or be a hazard to the housing when you close it, but enough to know that it’s going to present a problem for you at some point.

What’s more, you’re so lost in your own thoughts and busywork that you don’t see two green ears poking out over the top of the pile of armor on your temporary workstation (literally just the floor) until one of the thigh braces comes clattering down and the whole thing collapses with a ruckus.

You suddenly shove the metal box away from you in frustration and you reach for the little troublemaker with a sigh, scooping him up and getting to your feet.

“This isn’t going to work,” you grunt to him, hearing your words better for some reason when you direct them at the baby instead of talking to yourself, and his eh? allows the thoughts to come clearer and easier.  No, you can’t be distracted when your distraction is just another part of your status quo, you can’t use fixing mechanics to occupy yourself because it’s what you’ve done to occupy yourself your entire life, it’s worn off at this point.  You need something newer.  Something that takes your entire focus to do.

Eventually, your eyes drift over to the one metal panel on the wall that you’ve rarely ever opened.  One that takes up a comparatively enormous amount of space in the hull considering what you know it holds.  You eye the kid in your arm, who suddenly has sneaky painted all over his expression.  “You thinking what I’m thinking, demon?”

He squeaks his affirmative and you move over to the armory, pressing a few buttons before the doors slide open by themselves.  Because of course Mando invested in hydraulics for the gun closet but not for the hidden cot he used to sleep on, of course.

“Maker above,” you groan as the metal slides open, needing to lift your chin to eye the enormous collection.  How many fucking…?  All this for just one person?  What does that big one in the middle do that the others stacked strategically around it don’t?  They all kill whatever you point and shoot at, you’re assuming?  Are you missing something?

The baby makes a tiny sound of awe as you carefully look over your choices, not expecting nearly this many to be offered, before settling on one that looks the simplest.  A sleek silver one that’s still too big for your hand but smaller than anything else on the rack.

Grabby fingers reach out for the shiny metal as soon as you remove it from the shelf and you very purposefully set it down out of his pitiful wingspan.  “Nope.  Now come on, gotta bundle up.”

You make your way back over to the bed and pull one of the thickest blankets up, settling it over the open shield and then situating your partner in crime in his usual spot inside.  You strategically stuff and stack the fabric around him to make sure he’ll be warm enough in what you know has to be far below freezing temperatures, lifting it up over his ears and wrapping it around his neck in a loose hood.  He blinks up at you with gigantic eyes and an open mouth, clearly thrilled about your willingness to go on an adventure with him this time instead of being the tall nuisance that consistently holds him back from one, and you scoff down at him as you partially close the lid on his levitating nest of blankets for extra protection.  He should be warm enough, you’re not going to be outside long.

And then you pull out nearly half the amount of clothes you own and suit up in what feels like ten layers before grabbing the blaster.  The swirling wind nearly shoves the heavy hull door into you as soon as you open it and—Maker.

You look back at the kid behind you for a second, wondering if it’s too late to change your mind.  His expression narrows and he makes a triumphant ha! while pointing three fingers at the grey blizzard through the small open space in his crib.  Try as you might, you can’t ignore a call to arms when delivered with such ferocity.

Both of you step outside and take in the view after you wrestle with the door to haul it shut.  You don’t know the name of this planet but from what you can see, it’s one giant ice ball, mountainous and cold as fuck.  Though, to be honest, your only indication that it’s truly cold as fuck is the continuously accumulating snow blanketing the landscape and the flurries dancing in the whipping wind.  You’re too warm-blooded for climates like these—anything below room temperature and you’re freezing, you have absolutely no tolerance for cold whatsoever.

Keeping that in mind, you don’t travel far at all.  Just a few steps beyond the entrance to your shelter before eyeing what appears to be a large white boulder in the distance.  There’s a solid target, you figure—you’ll be able to see chunks splintering off when you hit it and the ice isn’t strong enough to bounce plasma back, you won’t have any ricochets.

Okay.  Okay—safety, where’s the safety on this one?  Ah, yes, okay—safety, off.  Stance, find your stance.  There it is.  Alright, now lift.  Lift, get that stupid frozen ball right in your sights, line it up.  Hold.  Hold.  Hold.

Inhale, exhale.  Inhale, exhale—

Fire.

You watch with bated breath as the bright red bolt launches from the end of the barrel and travels across the distance before melting a hole in the snow just to the right of your target.

“Mother fucker!”  You yell into the frigid landscape without warning, suddenly infuriated.  What’s the point of even having a sight if every gun is just gonna say fuck you no matter what?  Could there be some sort of mathematical reason why you seem to be fucking atrocious at this, you wonder?  Are you fucking up the angle somehow while trying to read the scope?  Should you just ignore it and try to aim without thinking too hard?

Admittedly, you spend the next five minutes shooting at that stupid fucking thing, not making a single shot.  It’s not been long at all, but your entire body is already trembling uncontrollably and it is just too fucking cold out here.  Freezing your fucking ass off isn’t going to help your aim of course, but it’s almost just tragic at this point.  Either you’ve got to accept that you’re just absolutely hopeless at this, or you’ve got to… blame the little womprat behind you for messing up your shots, yeah.  It wouldn't surprise you.

As a last ditch effort, you consider trying something a bit ridiculous to see if he really is fucking with you.

“I’m firing one last shot,” you call out loudly over the sound of the bristling wind and flurries, making sure he can hear your narration from his little blanket cave behind you.  “If I hit the target… I will present our demon overlord with a chunk of raw meat later for dinner.”

You give the offer a moment to sink in before raising the blaster, and then you jerk it up at the very last second while pulling the trigger.  The arc of plasma quickly disappears into the gloomy skies over the top of the ice boulder, completely straight.

You switch the safety on and turn around to say something smart to him, but… well.  Uh.  That’s an empty crib.

Sudden panic rips through you at the sight of the wide open shield, the blanket left abandoned inside.  Your head whips around in horror, wondering where the fuck he could’ve gone—but then you’re able to spot tiny footprints in the snow.  Your eyes quickly follow them up and see the baby wading his way up a large hill, slow against the terrain and trying in vain to get to something at the very top.

You drop the blaster and bolt through the blizzard to get to him while calling out through the freezing air and wishing, not for the first time, that you had a name to roar and strike fear into his tiny little heart.  In this case, you prefer a middle name as well.

Finally reaching him and yanking him up from the snow, you tuck him under the warmest part of your arm and open your mouth to start venting the terror from your body, but he makes a distressed noise and starts climbing.  You fumble with him on your way back down, not expecting that response, but he’s so distraught and preoccupied that he’s unable to stay still, trying to find different ways of escaping your grasp and making more and more sounds to indicate something is wrong.

“What the fuck are you—” you stuff him into the shield and at least get the blankets wrapped around him before looking back and trying to spot whatever he’s still wiggling and attempting to get to.  Frustrated cries start filling the icy air and… okay.  “Okay,” you tell him, your breath puffing like smoke in front of you, “okay okay, we can go look, but you need to stay warm.”

You clutch the edge of his metal shield and urge it to follow you back up the snowy hill, feeling the crunch of your feet disappear further and further into it as you climb.  Your outer two layers are probably soaked by now—stars, it’s so fucking cold.  You know you’re not exactly the best judge, but you’ve been outside less than five minutes and you’re already worried about getting sick or frostbite, already jumpy and wanting to go back to the warmth of the hull.

But as you reach the top and look out in the distance, you can just barely make out a familiar metallic glint on the horizon.  

Your heart picks up, but the baby makes another distressed sound.  Not… happy, not thrilled that his dad is coming back.  Some strange sort of dread begins to fill you, carefully holding the kid in his shield with one hand and looking at the bright reflection of light a little ways away just to make sure it’s…

No, it’s not moving.  Not disappearing and reappearing, not catching the sunlight differently.  Completely stationary in this absolutely horrendous weather.

You immediately make your way in that direction, your body deciding to outright abandon its trembling in the wake of this newfound worry.  You’re suddenly sweating, way too warm.  That’s Din, you recognize the glint of his armor anywhere, but why isn’t he moving?

The closer you get, the faster you move and the more you’re able to see.  He’s laying facedown in the snow.  There’s quite a bit of it covering the back of his cape, maybe a few inches, and… there’s also someone laying equally as lifeless behind him.  Your heart is slamming now, you’re doing your best to run in the unforgiving terrain, and you finally see that it’s… a corpse, a frozen corpse is behind him with a rope tied around its ankles, clutched tight in Din’s unmoving fist as it lays against the pure white backdrop.

“Mando?”  You call out, dropping to your knees as soon as you reach him.  “Hey—hey, can you hear me?”

The beskar strapped to him is frozen over and feels colder than ice when you try to shake him.  He doesn’t respond.  He’s dead weight; you do your best to turn him over on his back, but you still get nothing from him.  You shove your trembling fingers up under the helmet, and the only reassurance you have that he’s even alive comes from the petrifyingly slow pulse beating underneath.  His skin is ice cold.

Shit, he’s still breathing but he’s hypothermic, you have to get him back to the Crest right fucking now.

You fumble to get in position above his head while hooking both your arms under his, before leaning everything you have into it—but fuck, he’s so heavy.  You can barely lift him even just a few inches off the ground—the snow is deep, his armor makes him weigh a ton and the fabric wrapped around him is sopping wet.  You try again, making a tight sound in your throat while you haul, but it’s no use.

“Fuck,” you curse, starting to panic even fucking harder.  You’re gasping and breathless and getting dizzy and scared, continuing to try and find different angles to heave—

—until suddenly the burden is lifted.

You nearly fall backwards on your ass at the abrupt removal of tension, playing tug-of-war with a team that decided to give up with no warning.  But it’s like it almost doesn’t even phase you; you don’t even look behind you to see the baby’s eyes closed tight in concentration, you just recover and pull with both arms, feeling Din’s body gliding easily along the snow now and leading him all the way back down the hill.

Once you get inside the Crest and shut the door to the raging blizzard behind the three of you, there’s an extended moment where you just… you don’t know what to do.  You know all about how to deal with heatstroke, but this is the opposite—he either spent too long in the cold, or he exhausted himself trying to get back too quickly and then spent too long in the cold.  He said he’d use his e-comm if he wasn’t back in sixteen hours—was that the cutoff?  The point where the temperature outside would shut his body down and he’d need you to come get him?

Regardless, you need to warm him up.  Yes, that’s your priority, and you figure the quickest and safest way to accomplish it has to be the shower in slow increments.  The kid helps you move Din into the tiny fresher in the hull and then you sit on the floor with him, holding his limp body to your chest while reaching up to turn the faucet on.

Cold water sprays down and then suddenly—oof, he’s heavier than fuck again.  Air leaves your lungs and your neck cranes back under the unexpected increase in pressure on top of you to see the kid climbing down from his shield, no longer focused on mentally bearing most of his father’s weight or directing his own hovering form of transportation along behind you.  The baby disappears out of sight and you huff, completely trapped under Din as freezing water rains down on you.

Fuck, it’s so cold.  It’s way too fucking cold for you, but your core body temperature is also mostly normal right now.  Din’s isn’t, you’ll probably shock his system if you try to warm him up too quickly.  So you reach up and twist the knob, keeping it at a temperature he’d probably find just the slightest bit warm while inspiring violent shudders from you.

“H-Hey, I’m gonna t-t-take this off, o-okay—” you stutter down at him, knowing damn well he isn’t conscious to hear you but giving him that reassurance on the small chance he is, and then reach with trembling fingers to work at his armor.  You worry that the beskar is keeping the cold trapped the same way his clothes are, like having solid pieces of ice strapped to his body and nothing to protect him besides a few layers of soaking wet fabric.

The chestpiece comes off and you throw it blindly over your shoulder into the hull with a clang—admittedly, without thinking about where the baby is at all anymore.  The pauldrons come off next, but not before you reach up and turn the heat up just the slightest bit.  Your jerky limbs just want to blast it and remove the rest of his clothes in steamy hot water, but you can’t.  Even though your mind is hurtling at a thousand lightyears an hour, whatever reason you have left reminds you that you have to be patient or risk losing him entirely.

Eventually you’re able to get all the armor off but you hate the way he’s breathing right now.  Slow and shallow, like he just doesn’t really need the air at all but his body is still fighting for it on instinct.  His chest barely moves with it even when it’s got nothing weighing it down.

“You’ll b-be okay,” you say aloud, talking to the both of you even though only one is capable of responding.  “Y-Y-You’ll be o-okay—”

You reach up to inch the temperature a little higher, shivering terribly now.  His body feels slightly warmer under the shower than it did with the beskar, but you know you need to keep going and take the fabric off now.  Maker, it’s nearly impossible—the black clothing clings to his skin and its such a small space to maneuver, but it gives your mind and hands a clear goal to focus on while the water incrementally heats up.

Strangely, your adrenaline has been rocketing for so long that you almost lose track of time.  You just keep deadly focused on your task of undressing him and slowly heating the shower, trying not to think, trying not to get in your head and bring about disaster in such a crucial set of moments.

At some point, the water is warm.  Comfortably warm, and Din’s body isn’t ice cold anymore.  It’s warm, too, laying back into your chest and naked besides the helmet, but he’s still not moving.  No response, no matter how much mindless drabble you supply, no matter how steamy and hot the shower has become, no matter how much your own body has heated up.  Your fingers have found their home under his jaw, pressed right to his pulse point and feeling it continue to beat slow and faint, but you’re starting to feel the terror set in.  Real terror, the kind that makes you stupid and emotional, the kind that turns you back into a child again.

“I don’t know if it’s working,” you suddenly choke out, close to tears.  He’s warm, what else can you do for him?  Why is he not waking up?  “I-I don’t know what to do, Din, I…”

No—no, you cannot lose your shit, not yet.  You will exhaust every fucking option before you let that fear set in.  He’s not waking up because he needs to recover, his body needs time to work things out in a warm, comfortable environment.  He’s breathing, his heart is beating, he’s warm, and he’s still with you, so… you need to still be with him.

You turn the water off and clumsily get up, grabbing him under the arms and hauling him back into the hull.  He’s still heavy but it’s so much easier than before to move him; there’s no armor weighing him down anymore besides the helmet, no cape or snow or friction to catch him, no cold to lock your muscles up.  It’s slow going but you’re finally able to settle him in the warmth of your shared bed and then cover his body in the collection of blankets you’ve amassed.  You stand up and peel off all your wet layers of clothing, letting them plop to the metal floor while glancing around for the kid—

—who is currently swinging from the ladder to the cockpit with one hand.

It startles you for just a moment, just long enough for you to wonder what the fuck he thinks he’s doing up there, but then you figure that if he found some way to get up there then he can surely find his way back down again.

As you quickly drop to the bed and scoot up next to Din’s limp body under the blankets, the Crest’s engine suddenly gives a low rumble below the floor and heat starts blowing through the hull vents.  Again, you’re too preoccupied to even notice the gift much.  You’re tugging and tucking blankets around him and up under the metallic edge of his helmet when...

Maker, you need to take this off.  If the inside is wet, it’s probably keeping his head cold while the rest of him is warm from the shower.  You know it’s not a light thing—you know… you know at least a fraction of what this means.  You won’t look, you won’t look unless something absolutely drastic happens and it’s completely unavoidable, but you need to take his helmet off.

You catch the shoulder furthest from you and tug at his heavy body until he’s on his side, facing you on the bed.

“Din, I have to take your helmet off,” you warn him, saying it slowly and clearly.  Again, just in case.  “I’m not gonna look.  Nobody is gonna look—” your gaze flicks behind him to eye the baby, who is now somehow on the metal ground and waddling up to you both.  He blinks enormous black eyes at you, looking between you and his father huddled together under the blankets.

“Close your eyes,” you tell him very seriously, no room for negotiating.  “I know you understand me.”

It takes just a few seconds before he lifts his hands up and does exactly what you say, placing his fingers over his closed eyelids and then even so much as toddling around to face the wall.  You gasp in relief, clenching your eyes firmly shut and then pulling the helmet up, making sure you catch his head before it falls with one hand while tossing the beskar somewhere in the hull with the other.

Cold.  His hair is soaking wet and so cold, and his head rolls slightly as you guide it to rest in the warmest part of your neck.  Your hand stays attached to the back of it, wanting to transfer every single bit of warmth from your palm to him, and your eyes open to the kid’s back as your other arm wraps around Din’s bare spine.

And then all at once, you just feel… helpless.  He’s in your arms but Maker, you don’t know what else you can do.  The heat is blasting, you’re warm and pressed against him under multiple blankets, the engine is slowly heating the metal floor, but his breathing.  Slow.  Shallow.  Barely able to be felt against your neck.  He’s here but he’s not.  And you have no way of knowing if he’s getting closer or further away from you.

Tears start coming before you even realize.  But you have nothing to say.  After spending the entire time talking out loud, providing reassurances, narrating, distracting yourself—you don’t have anything anymore.  The silence twists you tighter, the nothing becomes inescapable, and the sudden sob that leaves you echoes hauntingly throughout the hull.  You pull his limp body as close to you as possible for comfort.  Wake up.  Wake up.

Your vision is watery—you don’t see it.  You don’t see the kid slowly turn around and take a few steps forward.  You only notice he’s there when green catches in the abstract blur, but you sniff and blink quickly to clear it.  It only takes a second to see the baby’s hand, extending and pressing against the blanket covering Din’s back, and you watch with wide eyes as he closes his.

And then there’s a second.  A second where you dare to hope.  Where you wonder if it’s even something that can be done.

The kid lowers his hand just a moment later and stumbles back a few steps, before plopping down on the ground and slowly falling backwards.  You have just enough time to see his little body inhale and exhale a few times as he sleeps, and then—

—and then Din suddenly jolts in your arms, bursting with too much life after spending too many heart wrenching moments without it.

“Shhh,” you breathe, instantly tightening your grip on the back of his head so he doesn’t pull away from you in a panic and keeping it tucked into the warmest part of your neck, right where your pulse thrums fast and present.  Your eyes clench tightly shut just in case and your heart bursts with pure, blinding, heavenly relief.  “Shhh sh sh, stay right here, just stay right here…”

As soon as he seems to recognize your voice and figure out that he’s not dead, his body immediately starts wreaking with shivers.  You squeeze him tight to you, feeling his large, quaking frame curl inwards into you for warmth, burying his own face into your neck even further and breathing shallow but quickly now, like his body actually wants the air again.  You do your best to will your blood to pump faster and provide him that relief, stretching and opening your body as much as possible to give him warmth.

And then you spend the next few hours like that.  Holding him, murmuring gently to him, providing him with your body heat and stars, he fucking clings to you.  He presses tight to you and trembles, and you don’t even know if he’s listening, but you keep talking.  Finding words for hours, and while some of them are just different ways of saying the same thing, you say them anyway.

He’s okay.  The kid is okay.  Everyone is okay.

Eventually, the shivering dies down until it stops altogether.  Din stays in one place and goes completely limp again, but this time he continues to breathe you in, slow and deep into the crook of your neck.  Fast asleep in your arms, and you thank the good fucking Maker above for the little angel passed out on the floor behind him.

***

He has to meet with Karga in two days.

After a few more hours of holding him and making absolutely sure he’s going to be alright, that’s all you can stupidly think about.

A deadline.  A very quickly approaching one.

You don’t know why.  But it might have something to do with the fact that you want nothing more than to climb up into the cockpit and navigate the ship off this horrid planet, and you can’t.  You’re confident that the hull and blankets are warm enough by themselves to keep Din comfortable as he recovers, and you’ve also had quite a while to regroup and get your mind thinking logically again, so you’re not worried about getting up and leaving him right now, no.  That’s not the problem.

The problem is that there’s a corpse outside.  You know this.  You know it’s there, and you know he needs it.  Nobody’s gonna take his word for just saying they’re dead, much less pay him for his services; no body, no bounty.  You also know it’s probably being covered with fresh snow right now, or maybe some sort of wild animal has already gotten their teeth into it, if anything can even survive out there.  And you’re the only one awake.  The only one capable of going to get it.

You’ve been arguing with yourself.  For about an hour, you’ve been struggling with the thought.  Din is soft and warm and every breath makes you focus less on the terrifying moments that occurred and more on the need to step up once again.

In the end, it’s the kid who gives you the final push.  You’re not going to leave him laying on the floor like that for any longer.  Not after what he did.

You take a second, grabbing the blanket and pulling it up all the way over Din’s head as it rests warm and comfortable in your neck.  You’re incredibly careful to cover his face, and even while climbing out of the warm cocoon of the bed, you keep your eyes firmly shut and continue to pull the fabric even higher, making absolutely sure you’re not going to see his face on accident.  You shouldn’t, you don’t think, as long as he doesn’t jerk awake and pull it down himself, but you want to take extra precaution regardless.

After quickly yanking on some clothes, you immediately make your way over to the kid and pick him up, seeing his little mouth open as he snores—and oh, you just have to.  You pull him to your chest and give him the most heartfelt, thankful embrace you can while not squishing him, before setting him down in his much more comfortable hovering blanket palace and closing the lid on it.

You know you have a very clear task now, but for just a few moments longer, you do your best to stall despite the ticking clock.  You start to pick up the mess in the hull—you close the fresher door, pick up Din’s discarded armor and set it in a neat pile close to the bed, place the helmet under the vent to encourage the padding inside to dry faster, and then you collect his old armor and stuff it back into one of the storage cubbies with your toolbox.

Only, an idea suddenly occurs to you as you’re putting away the chestpiece.  When you open the door to the hull, you know that a blast of cold air is going to flood the ship.  The engine is still heating everything inside and making sure you don’t get trapped in the snow by continuously melting it on the outside, but you don’t want Din to start shivering again.

So you grab the dented piece of electronics you were working on and flip the power switch, feeling the capacitors slowly start to heat up inside the housing.  You go back over and lift the blanket near his feet just enough to tuck the metal under it, close enough to Din that he’ll feel the same amount of warmth your body was providing him but not enough to overheat.

And then you make your way over to your bag and pull on the rest of your clothes, now exhausting almost every single clean thing you own just to make another trek through the snow.  You’re in the middle of pulling on your fifth pair of pants when the thought truly sinks in.

A corpse.  A dead body.  That you’re actually considering going out into the worst fucking weather in the galaxy to search for, haul back to the ship, and put into carbonite.  Because of a fucking deadline for an occupation very much not your own, very much not chosen by you.

You quickly walk over and leave through the door on the side of the hull before you can change your mind, slamming it shut behind you.

***

Well, it’s…  It’s not too terrible, you guess.

It’s been frozen out here for hours, that’s why.  It’s not bloody, not gory, not demented or malformed in any way.  Tranquil almost, like the creature died in its sleep in this nightmarish landscape, perfectly at peace.

You still don’t want to get anywhere close to it, but you have to.  You pull a face and slowly reach out, absolutely not thinking about the literal impossibility of it playing dead and just waiting for the moment to strike, but even still…  Even if there was nothing more sinister hiding underneath the surface of this scene, it’s still… existentially fucked up.  The last time you were confronted with a dead body, Din had to be the one to dispose of it—you couldn���t even think about it without threatening another wave of shock to your system.

And now you’re voluntarily grabbing the rope around one’s ankles and dragging it back down the pure white slope to the Razor Crest.

It doesn’t weigh that much and its icy exterior seems to work in your favor; it slides easily along the snow as soon as you get it moving.  As the ship comes back into view, you hurry to the door and you’re just about to open it when you suddenly get the feeling that you’re forgetting something…

Oh—

It takes a few moments of searching around in the freshly fallen snow, but eventually your fingers brush metal underneath and you stand, reaching behind you to tuck the blaster into your waistband.  When you’re positive you’re not going to accidentally shoot a chunk of your ass off on accident, you shove open the door and pull the body inside, before locking it tight behind you and keeping the frigid winter from touching this warm, quiet safe-haven.

There.  Halfway done.  You almost don’t want to look in case he wakes up unexpectedly, but then you find yourself peeking over your shoulder at the silhouette of Din’s body still passed out under the blankets and you’re thankful the squeaks and slams didn’t disturb him.

And then you take just a second to wonder if this is what it must be like for him.  Minus your obvious discomfort and ickiness at beginning to haul the corpse over to the carbonite chamber, it seems like it’d be reminiscent of any other time he’s brought back a dead quarry while you and the baby slept soundly.  Trying to be quiet, wanting it done and over with just to get back in bed that much faster, doing everything you can to prevent anything out there from so much as breathing on anything in here.

You do your best to hold on to the loveliness of the thought, because this part is the part you’re most anxious about.

The body needs to go into this slanted upright space so you can freeze it in carbonite.  And in order to do that, you have to grab it and put it there.  With your hands, you have to grab it.  With your hands.

You look down at its face, calm and at peace, frozen and forever etched into that expression, and something twists in your heart.  If it weren’t for the kid, that could’ve been Din.  If it weren’t for the kid walking barefoot through snow, fighting an uphill battle to make sure you get to him, helping you drag him back here and then overexerting himself to make sure he’d be okay, that could’ve been Din.  He drives you crazy on a consistent basis, but he came through today.

Know what?  If that little squirt can save a grown man’s life twice in a few hours, then the least you can do is finish this job for all three of you and fly your asses out of here.

Weirdly enough, being frozen solid allows for way better handling than the alternative.  It means you don’t actually have to touch it too much; you don’t have to deal with the limpness of death, it doesn’t seem as much like a person as it does a rigid board you’re simply moving from one place to another.  You can just grab the shoulders and yank and the entire fucking thing goes with it, solid and upright, naturally wanting to lean back into the chamber so you don’t even have to hold it in place.  The perfect quarry for you basically, day one stuff, as easy as it could get.

Almost done, almost done—you study the key panel on the upper-right frame before eventually pressing a few buttons, and then you step back as gas freezes and solidifies the corpse in its carbonite prison.

Yes.  You’re done.  You already want to take another shower just from touching it for a few seconds, but that can wait.  Quickly making your way up the ladder and into the cockpit, you fire up the thrusters and then navigate the ship through and beyond the swirling white atmosphere of this dreadful fucking planet, before punching in familiar coordinates to Nevarro.

***

“Din,” you murmur, making sure you have your eyes completely covered with one hand before gently easing the blanket down from his face with the other.  “Din, I want you to drink some wat—”

He jerks awake so suddenly that you hear the metal canteen fall over on the floor next to you, thank the Maker its lid is on tight.  You automatically reach out to steady him, pressing your free hand to his bare chest and continuing to speak calmly and gently to reassure him, but he still scrambles to take in his surroundings after sleeping longer than he probably has in weeks.  

You know what he’s seeing, even though you’re blind right now.  You took time to make sure everything was settled before waking him.  The hull is clean with only a single light to illuminate it, the baby is still snoozing in his closed crib, his armor is stacked in a neat pile, the blaster is put away, and you retired your makeshift blanket heater box so the only thing left is you.  Freshly showered, hair dripping, offering him water, and dressed in just a thin shirt with nothing else (you ran out of things to wear).

“Wh-Where’s my h-h-helmet—” is the first thing he asks, voice broken and raspy.  Stars, he needs water.

“The padding inside is wet,” you quickly supply, keeping your hand tight over the bridge of your eyes to make sure his freshly conscious mind immediately understands that you have no bad intentions.  “I swear I didn’t look, and I made sure the kid didn’t either.  He’s sleeping now, it’s just me—I swear nobody looked, I swear.”

You might just be saying the exact same thing over and over again and admittedly, that might be putting some weird kind of suspicion on you, but you just want to make sure he knows.  Beyond a shadow of a doubt.  It’s important that he knows he’s safe and that everything is okay now, even if he collapsed and spent an unknown amount of time in a purgatory where nothing was.

His body trembles under your palm, waves of shudders attacking him even after hours of keeping him as warm as possible.  “Are—Are we st-still on H-Ho—H-Hoth—”

“No,” you answer.  “We’re in hyperspace.  Everything’s okay now, I took care of it.  We’ll get to Nevarro on time.”

It’s like he takes just a few extra moments, as if he’s trying extra hard to remember before responding.  “But—I d-didn’t—”

“You have four bodies for Karga,” you tell him, not letting him get too lost trying to recall something that no longer poses an issue.  “I took care of it.  You need rest, I only woke you up to make sure you drink some water, so please—” you blindly reach your hand out for the canteen you know has to be around here somewhere, but all you feel is…

His.  Catching yours.

“Y-You took c-c-care of…”  His hands are trembling harder than his voice.  “Sh-shit, I’m freezing, I—”

“Drink some water,” you tell him, squeezing his fingers.  “I’ll go turn off the light so you can sleep more, but you need water.”

His hand feels like it doesn’t quite want to let go of yours yet, but eventually it does and you hear the sloshing of water as the metal flask is picked up with an unsteady grip.  Purposefully turning your back to him and making sure he’s not in your line of sight whatsoever, you finally let your hand drop and blink your eyes open at the wall across the hull.  You hear Din shakily unscrew the lid while you stand up and find the light switch, before turning around in the pitch blackness and using his loud gulps as your guide back.

Your hands and knees are barely on the blanket when you hear him toss the empty canteen to the side and grab you, pulling you down to him.  

Fuck, you’re not expecting it.  You fumble in the dark but he doesn’t really give your clumsiness much of a choice—Din pulls you under the blankets like he needs you, his body craving that warmth even though his skin doesn’t feel cold at all.  He hooks a strong forearm around your tummy, keeping your back pressed tight to his chest while the rest of him curls to fit every part of you, and you have to adjust the blankets yourself.

It’s not even a few seconds after you settle into position when his trembling hands jerk down to grab your shirt and yank it up.  You quickly scramble to help him get you as naked as he is, feeling his palms drag greedily across the heat of your tummy and breasts before you’ve even finished wiggling the fabric over your head.  The shirt lands somewhere in the darkness and you’re squeezed back against him, your hands landing on his forearms as they wrap around your waist and he clings shamelessly to you.

“You…”  Din’s body still shivers every once in a while but the heat and closeness allows his voice to even out just a bit.  He clears his throat and swallows, tucking his head and burying his face in your hair before trying again.  “You brought back the qu-quarry?”

“Yes,” you confirm, confident in your reassurance but gentle at the same time.  “It’s in carbonite.”

All you can feel or hear in response is his breathing.  His heart beating steady and strong against your back.

And then Din’s arms suddenly squeeze you tight—tight.  He lets out a low shaky exhale against the back of your shoulder and presses his lips to your skin.  “Sweet girl.”

And he says just… so much with those two words.  Slow and purposeful, the steadiest thing you’ve heard from him in hours.  But the two biggest competing emotions you hear tugging at his vocal cords are gratitude and apprehension.  Like he already knows that it couldn’t have been easy for you.  Like he’s not taking it lightly.

You don’t want to talk about it.  You don’t want to talk about anything that happened in the past few hours, not right now.  “It’s okay.  Please.”

This time his silence seems to be on the brink, as if he wants to say more but the extra plea you put on the end makes him hold onto his words, at least for now.  

“How d-did you find me?”  He asks instead, scooting his legs up enough that yours actually go with him.  Cradled in his naked body, radiating heat so he can recover, pressed so close to him that you feel like gravity itself would be pushing you into his lap if the world weren’t sideways.

“The kid,” you tell him.  “We were goofing around outside and he dragged me ov—”

It’s like he’s still so cold that even just the surprise of hearing you say that makes his whole body lock down and convulse a few times against your back.  “You were wh-what?”

“I was practicing,” you openly admit to him, feeling like the earlier events already occurred a lifetime ago and you have no reason for being shy about it anymore.  In fact, you’re glad you were there, being terrible at shooting.  The alternative is unthinkable.  Though, something tells you also improbable, having a little supernatural sidekick who cares so deeply for him.  “I raided your armory.  We weren’t outside for more than five minutes before I wanted to go back in, but then he found you.”

And you think he’s going to get after you, for some reason.  Seems about on par, you figure—going outside for even just a few minutes on a planet whose name you now remember is colloquial slang for hell, even if it’s the only reason he’s not an icicle right now.

But he’s just quiet.  Breathing.  So you just relax into him, thinking that’s the end of it.  You take a few deep breaths in through your nose and just… rest.  In the near perfect silence of hyperspace you used to find haunting, but now only find comfort in.  It reminds you of him.

“Did you hit the target?”  He asks you quietly, and at first you scoff, about to ask if he’s kidding.  No, of course you didn’t hit the…

Only, after a remarkable delay, hearing him phrase it that way suddenly makes your stomach decide to drop and do a fucking somersault on the ground out of absolutely nowhere.

Everything comes flooding back.  The conflict you used to think was the most pressing thing, the one that kept you awake and your thoughts scrambled for hours.  It feels like it was ages ago.  An entire lifetime has passed since that happened, you might’ve forgotten it altogether if he didn’t decide to ask that very simple question in a very specific way.

“I…” you mumble in response, your heart suddenly pounding.  “Not… not yet.”

Okay, that’s a good answer.  It’s the truth and you’re giving nothing away by saying that.  So now what is he going to say?  What is he going to say?  You spoke your piece, it’s his turn now, that’s how conversations work.  Well typically, that’s how conversations work—but with Din… you probably should’ve known.

He falls back into silence almost immediately, appearing to accept your answer just the way it is without anything else to add.  You feel his heart continue to beat strong against your back, but there’s something too tense about his stillness that doesn’t imply he’s relaxing anymore.  His body goes slightly taut, but not from the lingering chill in his bones.

He’s going to make you ask him, you realize.  He’s waiting until you confront him about his choice in words at the shooting range.  Which means he wasn’t just joking around.  He wasn’t just messing with you.

“Din…” you whisper uncertainly, and his face suddenly finds its way into the crook of your neck as soon as the word leaves your mouth, arms tightening up around you.  You spent forever trying to find the words to even bring this up, and here he is, already knowing exactly what you’re asking just by the tone of your voice.  Still, you ask anyway, sounding small and so unsure of yourself in the darkness.  “Why did you say that?  On Tatooine, why did you…”

Din’s chest expands against your back with a long, slow breath, and then he lets it out against your neck, hot enough to raise goosebumps all over your body.

“I… don’t know,” he admits, voice muffled and quiet, but it’s not… casual.  Not like he’s brushing you off or indicating he doesn’t want to talk about it, but like it’s actually a complete fucking mystery to him, just as much as it is to you.  “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know…” you repeat slowly.

“You had said something,” he mutters, shifting just a bit behind you.  His palm slides up your bare tummy, stopping in the warm spot just under the swell of your breast.  “Earlier that day.  I thought about it, and then I just… s-said it.”

You?  Said something that made him ask that?

“What?”  You blurt out, genuinely startled and having no fucking clue.  “What did I say?”

“Something about…”  He gives the smallest shudder from behind you, and you don’t actually know if this one is from the cold.  “Not wanting anyone else to know me the way you do.”

Your heart rapidly kicks up and you flush, hating how unbelievably possessive your own words sound coming out of his mouth.  “Oh shit, I… I didn’t mean for that to be… that sounds so bad, Din, I swear I didn’t mean for it to—”

He cuts you off by clutching you tighter, burying his face deeper into your neck and breathing out shakily.  “Tell me you meant every word.”

You blink a couple of times in the pitch black before sighing, letting go of any charade or front you think about putting up for him to save some dignity.  “I meant it.”

Because it’s the truth.  You said it when you were caught off guard, throwing it out to him along with other mindless drabble that came from a place that was very real.  You don’t like the way you phrased it, but you meant it.  You do mean it.  Every word.

If there weren't so many things still left unsaid right now, you might actually worry he fell asleep on you.  Din loosens up considerably after you admit it, letting go of more tightness you didn’t even know was inside him.  His head slowly drops from the crook of your neck to the back of it and he breathes hot air on your nape, quiet for a long time.

And, you suppose you’d actually be okay with it if that was the end of the conversation.  There are, of course, millions of things left to ask.  But he doesn’t know the answers, just as much as you’re left clueless about the questions.  You’re not expecting him to elaborate anymore, and if he’s waiting for you to ask, he’ll be waiting a long time.  Soon your eyes close and you almost feel yourself beginning to drift.  It’s been such a rough day today and to just be here in his arms, it’s more than enough for you.  

But then his low baritone comes through the darkness.

“In Mando’a,” Din’s voice suddenly whispers against your skin, “the verb, kar’taylir… it means to know.  Su kar’tayli, you know, kaysh kar’tayli, they know.  Ni ke kar’tayl nu… I don’t know.”

Your eyes pop open and you immediately forget all about sleep, wide awake and suddenly hanging onto every word as it rolls so gently off his tongue.  You’ve never heard the language spoken aloud, you’ve never heard anything about the Mandalorians directly from one before.  All of the stories seem sensationalized, passed down by word of mouth and chipping away at the kernel of truth until it disappears completely.

“The language is dying,” Din continues, murmuring soft and gentle along your nape.  “By the time I learned it, too many words had been lost.  The ones left were the ones that were needed.”

“What do you mean?”  You whisper, almost afraid of breaking the quiet.  Not wanting him to feel distracted or pressed, but needing to express your curiosity lest you somehow overflow with it.

“There are only three pronouns,” he answers slowly, and you’re already fucking fascinated.  “Ni, for I or we.  Su is you or you all, and kaysh is third person.  Subjective, objective, possessive, singular, plural—doesn’t matter.  Three words, for every individual or collective in the entire galaxy.”

You blink in the darkness, your logic telling you that it sounds so simple it’d become confusing and then your logic also telling you that doesn’t actually make any fucking sense at all.  If that’s true, it’s unbelievable.  How do they differentiate?  Just context?

“How do you distinguish?”  You ask him.  Admittedly, you don’t know much about linguistics—not anywhere near the extent he does, but it seems so counterintuitive.  I can’t be the same word for we, the amount of misunderstandings would be a nightmare.

“We… don’t need to,” he explains to you, slowly, like nobody has ever asked him these things before and so he’s unsure how to phrase it.  “Individuality isn’t valued, it’s not a concept.”

And… you almost can’t wrap your head around it.  “What do you mean?”  You ask again, knowing you’re sounding like a broken record without specifying more, but trying with your whole heart to understand.

“I mean… we swear oaths to never reveal our faces,” Din tells you, something you shouldn’t need to be reminded of.  “We abandon our names.  We become… whispers, of the same voice.  There’s not many words in Mando’a with a unique meaning, almost all of them are homonyms.  Interchangeable.  Transient.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, suddenly blown away by the implication.  Almost all of them are homonyms?  How in Maker’s name are you even supposed to communicate at that point?  That’s… unthinkable.

“Most words have two meanings?”  You clarify, wanting to be absolutely sure you’re getting it right.

“Most have five or six,” he returns, and you’re downright shocked now.  “Everything just depends.”

“Stars…”  You breathe, moving a palm up the length of his forearm and holding the back of his hand with it.  Fuck, you hope this is the direction he’s intending instead of veering him off course, but you’re incredibly invested.  “What else does, uh… kay—er, kar… kar’taylir mean?”

Din lets out a slow breath from behind you, and you can… you can feel his own heart beating faster when it presses up against your spine at the apex of his inhale.  “It’s… a rare word, it only has two meanings.”

You bite your lip and start to feel butterflies in your stomach for some reason.  Slowly, his hand begins to travel up your breast and then to your sternum before heading just the slightest bit left, and your own hand moves with him.

“To know,” Din says quietly, “but also… to care very deeply for.”  He doesn’t stop until his palm presses right above the rapidly pounding organ in your chest.  “To hold in the heart.”

“To know,” you swallow thickly, curling your fingers around his hand and praying he’s saying what you think he is, “or… to love?”

“When Mandalorian’s take vows, there’s no ceremony,” he whispers into the back of your neck.  “No witnesses, no celebrations.  We just take our helmets off in front of the other and look.  It doesn’t sound like much, but… our secrecy is our survival.  Letting someone see our face and swearing lifelong devotion to them, it’s the same thing.  To know is to love.”

Your eyes close tight and your lungs empty themselves, too full of emotion to even fit oxygen inside you anymore.  Din’s lips press feather soft behind your neck, and now you’re the one shivering uncontrollably.  The move up and trail along your neck in the darkness.

“Ni kar'tayl su,” he murmurs, shifting back just slightly and pulling at your shoulder.  “I know you.”

You go with him, facing the ceiling as he fits his head under your throat and places slow, open mouth kisses down the curve of it.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” he goes on quietly, his voice starting to sound raspy again, dragging his hand down your torso while his lips brush your collarbone.  “For an eternity, I’ll know you.”

Water wets the corners of your lashes and you inhale three or four times before exhaling, shallow hiccups and desperate for air.

“Ni ke vaabi nu kaysh ke kar’taylir su te ni kar’tayl su.”  Din says, slowly moving his mouth back up when your fingers tangle in his hair and beg him to come that way.  The words dance along your skin as he whispers them, forever searing themselves into your memory.  You can’t see them, you’ll never have a visual to reminisce upon, but you’ll know how they felt.  Right under your ear, brimming with quiet devotion.  “I don’t want anyone else to know you… the way I know you.”

Your face goes blazing hot at the sound of him translating your own rushed and half-assed sentence into something gorgeous and flowing, something that sounds so much more beautiful than when you blurted it out earlier.  You told him you loved him in that hangar, right to his face.  Unashamed and stupid about it, but meaning it with every part of your body.

“I knew you’d say no,” he finally admits, staying in this one spot.  Unmoving.  Telling you the truth, allowing you to know it.  “I just wanted to… say it.”

That… that makes sense to you.  The last part does, at least, it makes so much sense to you.  The first time you said you loved him, you said it just to say it.  You wanted to feel the words, sound them out even if neither one of you could hear them.  It felt freeing, like coming to accept a universal truth.

The first part, though.  You’re still behind.  “You knew I’d say no?”  You ask him, feeling him ease back just slightly.  Staring down at you through the pitch black, even if he can’t see either.  Keeping his palm over your heart as the ship hurdles through nowhere and everywhere at once.

“You wouldn’t take my first name without convincing,” he reasons quietly, and then moves back to lay in the blankets once more, leaving the rest unspoken.

But he’s… oh stars, he’s so right.  If he’s going to take his helmet off and let you see his face—if he’s going to commit to you that way, it is not going to be because you shoot a blaster correctly.  Not after today, not after what he’s told you.

So you move up to your elbow and turn to face him, trying to let him know why even if he’s already guessed the what correctly.

“I want it to mean something,” you say after a moment.  “I want it to… have the meaning it’s supposed to have.”

Your palm finds its way to his chest in the silence following.  Right over the beating of his heart, feeling it thrum hard and rhythmic while he considers his response.

“This is The Way,” Din finally murmurs, settling his hand over yours, and you repeat the words back to him.  Respecting them.  Feeling like, for the very first time, they now apply to you in some way instead of belonging to some mysterious creed you’ll never know anything about.

But when a shudder subtly rockets up and down his body, you realize the blankets have been pulled down with the changing positions and his whole torso is bare and exposed to the hull.  So you pull them up until you’re both covered again, before you lean down and press a soft kiss to his shoulder.

Din shudders again when your mouth opens and the hot glide of your tongue catches his skin, but you know it’s not from the cold this time.  His breathing deepens while you slowly move over him.  You ease him further on his back and let him keep feeling the warmth of your mouth on his body, alleviate the lingering chill by sucking gentle hickeys into his skin and feeling the goosebumps raise under your tongue.  He moves with you; he stretches his neck when you want to nibble his collarbone, arches when you mouth down his chest, shifts his elbow to let you drag your tongue along his ribcage.

And… and it’s as if all the stars and systems hold even more still for you than the relative physics of faster-than-light travel can explain away by themselves.  You’ve always felt timeless in here, living from one fleeting eternity to the next, suspended in perpetuity while the rest of the galaxy ages without you.  But when you’re with him and it’s pitch black and there’s no light to streak across your vision, no evidence that time and space have all but disconnected from each other just to let your insignificant little bodies through… it’s like you’re meant to be here.  In some strange, unexplainable way, you feel like you could’ve died out there with him in the frozen wasteland today and this is exactly where you’d still end up, no matter what.

To know is to love.

“Do you have brown eyes?”  You hear yourself whisper under his jaw, and you feel Din’s fingers thread in your hair and ease you up enough to brush his lips against your chin.

“Yes,” he whispers back, and then his mouth is on yours.

[nuatthebeach]

omg otp asks okay: 1, 13, 17, 20, 27, & 51

1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you’?

Harry to be honest. I can see this being his reasoning every time he works overtime or does anything with the intention of protecting her and his family. “I’m doing this for our family, to make the world a safer place for them. Because I love you! And I love them!” Also this dude is mega dramatic for literally anything. Whether Ginny would accept that as a valid reason to end an argument is another question entirely 🤔 . Either way, there’s always a part of her that tingles every time she hears it.

13. Who’s the bigger tease?

Intentionally, Ginny. She’d corner him when he’s either really busy doing work at home or even at the Burrow, Ministry meetings, or even at mundane places like the grocery store. She’d flip her hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck, or start touching the pads of her fingers on his bicep, or lean on his side, or stare at him with the classic blazing look. Harry would pretend to ignore it but there’s no mistaking his rising blush - and when he grows older - his foot and fingers from tapping restlessly before he gives in and pushes her against the wall in some lonely corridor (just like old times) where he can really give all his attention to her, not that she didn’t have it already.

Unintentionally, Harry. He’d offer to read the book she’s reading (“you’re laughing so much, it can’t be that funny” but they both know he wants to just laugh with her), or compliment her flying skills, or gush at her witty commentary in the Prophet, or suggest he watch the kids while she goes for some much needed girl time - in which case, Ginny decides everything else can fucking wait because this hunk of a man is actually with her forever and ever and ever, and she proceeds to blow his effing mind (amongst other things) once more.

17. Who's more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately?

Both do it a lot tbh, but the person who does it the most is Harry. As much of a rep Gin gets for being impulsive, when it comes to random kisses Harry takes the lead. In his eyes, she’s just so cute and small but also she’s this ball of energy and light, and when he looks upon her as she’s hexing yet another person who lowkey (high key) deserved it, he thinks back to the war and his suffering and all he can come to terms with is yes. It was worth it. She will always be. And then, boom. He snogs the angst away, and she lets him.

20. Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

SJLAKSJSLAKSLDKAL IT IS TIME FOLKS, I HAVE OFFICIALLY COME BACK FULL CIRCLE.

Long story short (another amazing Taylor Swift song that encompasses Hinny btw), the answer would have to be Daylight by Taylor Swift. I talk about it in my very first post on tumblr here and it’s the title to my short story compilation on ao3 here.

Need convincing? Just look at these bomb lyrics that my girl TS dropped.

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in

Everyone looked worse in the light

There are so many lines that I've crossed unforgiven

I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

And now I see daylight, I only see daylight.

I honestly have a whole Taylor Swift Hinny playlist that I’d be glad to share if anyone wants it.

27. Who is the light weight that needs to be taken care of after a party?

Sigh. Ginny, poor thing. As a shorty myself, I figure she wouldn’t get past much. But Harry finds it cute when she drinks and she’s always doing really silly things like dancing on top of tables and making really brazen innuendos that make him grin as much as he blushes. She’d probably hit him teasingly for being a “typical noble male git” if he told her this, but he really really really enjoys taking care of her afterward, lying her down and giving her water and massaging her sore feet (because dancing is exhausting, people!) and pampering her in ways she’d roll her eyes at if she was sober.

51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?

At first, my answer was going to be in very practical ways like doing each other’s dishes without asking for it/not their day to do it, or Harry killing the cockroach in the corner of the room without teasing her even the tiniest bit because dammit Ron may be scared of spiders but Ginny is absolutely terrified of those disgusting shitters (“Did you know cockroaches have evolved the least out of all bugs?” “Yes, Gin, you say this every single time.”)

But then I remember HBP and the intimate way they’d interact, so I actually do think they keep anniversary dates in mind (nothing too big but appreciative enough - and they definitely like experiences/traveling more than fancy dinners). And I think the way they laugh and touch each other and run fingers through the other’s hair and give massages are all very intimate expressions indeed.

Especially laughter. When Ginny makes a joke and Harry laughs, that validation is like he’s telling her he loves her 3245 times and she absolutely gushes over it.

And when Harry catches Ginny’s mischievous eyes every time someone says an inappropriate joke, he finds himself physically pressing his palm to the core of his chest from the way his heart violently wants to leap out of it.