#i'm sorryyyyyyy
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aberooski · 11 months ago
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Picture it:
Some years after graduation in their mid twenties, Chazz and Atticus get engaged.
Chazz, as much as he's thought about it, is far too awkward with feelings and emotions even still to manage a proposal. Or rather, Chazz tries to propose, but after shuddering and bumbling through dinner like a fool, Atticus laughs and takes over, reciting precisely what Chazz was going to say back to him and answering him happily that he will absolutely marry him! No questions asked!
Everyone is overjoyed for them, it's a whole thing! Alexis gives Chazz her blessing to marry her brother but totally gives him the "if you hurt my big brother, I will hunt you down. And kick your ass." talk, but she's happier fort them than anyone, after all, she's already thought of Chazz as her second brother for a long time and now it's going to he a reality!
They have a moderately sized wedding, not overwhelmingly large, but not exactly small either. All of their friends plus the entire Rhodes family are in attendance. The Princetons aren't as, well, cool as the Rhodes' plus neither Chazz nor Atticus wanted his abusers there, so they weren’t invited.
The ceremony is beautiful, so moving, many tears from the gallery and the wedding party, including the officiant, Crowler who got ordained online specifically for them
The reception is very classy of course! A beautiful ballroom overlooking the sea. Food and champagne, everybody's having a marvelous and merry time! There's toasts, speeches, and the couple shares their first dance. But sometime later in the night, they sneak off to an outside rooftop terrace kinda space just off the main ballroom to share a private moment with a few words and two glasses of champagne.
As they sip their drinks and marvel at the sight of the moon and stars reflecting on the sea, they hear music from inside, one of Atticus's favorite songs. And under the moonlight, they dance to Beyond The Sea.
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helloagain-shinyred · 17 days ago
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I hope you don't mind, I wanted to take one of the insults said about FunFreddo and doodle his reaction to it, cuz the insult made me laugh so hard (cuz it's so true) but it wasn't said to his face. Needed to draw out his reaction heheh.
*puts on my dunce cap* Hey I know this ask is a year old because I'm really bad at checking my inbox on a regular basis but uhhhhh you still wanna doodle this? Because I'd love to see it
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moocowmoocow · 10 months ago
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Femslash February 12 - Dress
Molly x Margo
Molly was haunted by that dress.
After the hoopla about being the first American woman on the moon died down (and she may have smothered some of it in its cradle because she most certainly was not the kind of woman most people wanted to be first), she started to go to the club without Wayne in hopes that Margo would be playing. She would settle into a spot hidden from the sight of the piano and wait.
The times seemed to have no rhyme or reason until Molly realized that the best predictor of whether Margo would be there was how aggravated she was.
One day, Molly pressed all of Margo’s buttons. She also sat somewhere Margo couldn’t miss seeing her and when she began to play, brazenly stared. Margo looked up between songs and glared.
After her set, Molly went to look for her. She smiled, sharp and predatory when she saw Margo duck into one of the bathrooms. She followed her and locked the door behind her. She found her holding onto the sink and staring at her own reflection.
“That was quite the set.”
Margo whirled around. “What the hell, Molly?”
Molly walked toward her slowly, allowing her room to escape but slowly backing her against the wall. “I think you know.”
Margo surprised her. Her kiss was more like an attack - fierce and biting. Molly smiled against Margo’s mouth then rucked up the dress to her waist. Margo didn’t object but rather let out something like a whimper. It had probably been years since she’d been touched like this. Molly pulled down her nylons and shoved her hand down her underwear. She was already wet.
Molly latched her mouth on Margo’s neck and sucked as she rubbed. Margo only let out a small gasp but her hips bucked as she rode Molly’s hand.
The next day, Molly was surprised that Margo wore one of her usual blouses that failed to hide the marks she left on her skin. Margo tilted her chin and stared at her determinedly until Molly turned toward her CAPCOM station.
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scaryscarecrows · 10 months ago
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You playing the Suicide Squad game, or pretending it doesn't exist? 😁
No PS5, so no SS for me, but I've seen. Things.
Personal, potentially dickish opinion: when Harley Quinn is in the marketing for something more than, like, a little bit...bad things happen. It's like she's a curse.
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fictionbish · 1 year ago
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I MISSED SWEATER DAY NOOOOOOOO :(
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Just popping in to say if any of my IT/FH friends are still interested in the scene, I highly recommend the IT server, Glasmar. Old and new content, welcoming and inclusive community, dedicated staff, ran by an IT veteran.
It's The Good Stuff
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virginmiri99 · 1 year ago
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Nurse… she’s up again ….
It's fine I'm healing.
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evl-qn · 4 days ago
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the way i WANT to write regina but literally every other muse is so loud in my head and regina's just chillin'
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yojimoji · 3 months ago
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Hi! I'm @antibatsidekickgirl! I like to introduce myself so people don't get startled by my main blog <3
jesus christ i need to check my inbox more often this isnprobably from like forever ago hiiii hi hi i just followed u i think ur so cool
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jellybeanium124 · 4 months ago
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the borrower and the doll is looking at me like this rn
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604to647 · 3 months ago
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Would you believe it if I told you that this breakup was the first thing conceptualized for this story? That the series was born from this devastation? What does that say about me?? 😅😅 Thank you for reading even though I made you mad 🫣😘
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Safest with You (Ch. 19 - The Betrayal)
5.3K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader
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Summary: Din addresses the threat made against you the only way he knows how.
Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Established relationship, unprotected PiV, nicknames (pretty bird, baby, etc.) Angst, angsty angst. Additional warnings withheld to avoid spoilers.
A/N 1: I'm just going to upload this now instead of my usual Friday posting because it's been a doozy to edit and while I don't think I've quite achieved the emotional punch I wanted, I feel like not posting it is holding me back on the next chapters; TLDR - it's not perfect but please take this from me 🙏🏻🫣
A/N 2: I'm sorry.
Series Masterlist / Dividers by @saradika-graphics 😘
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It’s been a hell of a week.  More than once, Din’s come home worn down with evidence of some type of altercation etched into his energy.  Whatever is happening with the Mandos these days, it’s different than before – whereas prior to Cass and Rikard’s wedding the toll that the unrest had taken on Din was mainly physical, these days the weight that Din carries on his ever tightening shoulders seems to be more of a mental burden.  He won’t talk to you about it and that alone leaves you anxious with worry for him. 
After what must have been only a temporary respite, months of simmering tension in Din’s world feels like it’s about to break into a boil at any moment and you just know that Din will be in the middle of it when it does.  One night, Din comes home with a nasty knife wound down his side and you have to fight back tears as you do your best to help him clean and patch up his wound.  When it’s clear that your amateur first aid skills won’t be enough, you call Lala who came over immediately and put her nursing degree to use, mending and healing what you could not.  After walking her down the stairs to her waiting cab, you had hugged your friend tightly, thanking her profusely for coming and helping Din.  The look of concern on her face finally breaks you and before you can help yourself, you're crying in her arms – you've never had anyone with whom to share your worry for Din before.  Your friends have seen you stressed over Din in the past, but this is the first time someone has seen evidence of the violence that’s the root behind your anxiety.  Selfishly, you feel a weight lifted off of you from not having to hide this part of your life with Din from your friends for once. 
Climbing the stairs and reciting to yourself the instructions Lala left on how to keep Din’s wound clean and infection-free, you suddenly wonder if Din might be angry with you for having brought in an “outsider”.  But your concerns turn out to be completely baseless, evaporating the moment you fluff the pillows behind Din’s head while trying to make him more comfortable – Din takes your hand and apologizes to you, “I’m sorry, pretty bird.”
“Sorry for what?  Getting hurt?”
“Sorry that I can’t keep this part of my life out of yours.”
Silly old man. “Din, there isn’t any part of your life that I don’t want in mine,” you try to smile at him reassuringly, but he’s already succumbing to the pain medication and drifting off to sleep.
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Din doesn’t tell you about the threat made against you - he doesn’t want to scare you or have you living in fear.  He also doesn’t want to add to the anxiety he knows you already carry on his behalf, especially since he doesn’t have any answers right now - the investigation into the threats is not going as quickly as he’d like. 
He knows he's not being fair.  It’s all hands on deck right now - every Mando on the payroll put on protection and surveillance details to ensure that each photographed target has sufficient coverage, including you.  That only leaves a few bodies with enough time and know how to properly investigate the threats and chase down leads.  These things take time, patience, focus – Din knows that, but all he can think about is you and how every minute he hasn’t uncovered the culprit behind the threats is a minute you’re not safe.  It’s distracting him and making him sloppy – like the other night where he literally chased down a lead who ended up pulling a knife on him.
As far as Din’s concerned, even if he has a Mando watching you every second of the day (which just isn’t possible), until he makes headway in the investigation, you won’t be any safer.  He doesn’t tell you any of this - just lets it stew and eat him up.  But you know him so well and he can tell that you know he’s keeping something from you and that it hurts you.  Din had made you a promise a long time ago that even if he can’t tell you everything, he would never make you feel like he was purposefully keeping you in the dark – he knows he’s breaking that promise every day. 
Something has to give. 
Din knows this but he doesn’t know what.  He could tell you everything – you would have to live as you never have before, frightened and terrorized.  Would you blame him?  He already does.  Or he could try harder to pretend that nothing’s wrong – somehow this feels like lying to you and quite frankly, he doesn’t think he could manage it anyways.  What he really needs is a break to come in the case so he can take out whoever is behind this, but he has no concrete way of making this happen.  In lieu of that… he could remove the target over your head another way.  There are no good options.
Then, without warning one night, it hits him square in the jaw what the only option is. 
It’s near closing time at the gym, but there aren’t any people working out – just a Mandos gathering.  Paz leads the meeting which consists primarily of going over surveillance reports and handing out protective detail rotations.  The atmosphere isn’t relaxed by any stretch of the imagination, but nothing out of the ordinary has come up recently and if anything, the meeting is fairly routine.
Din is only half listening to the protection assignments, having already heard that Jimmy and Mayfeld are assigned to you this week, when out of the corner of his eye he sees Brian get a text and leave to make a call outside, but he never makes it past the front doors of the gym.
Even from a distance, Din can hear Brian’s girlfriend through the line; she’s upset, nearly hysterical, whatever Brian is saying to her completely masked by the sobs coming through the phone. 
Having been silenced by what they can’t help but overhear, the Mandos all watch as Brian returns hurriedly to talk to Paz, voice low while his girlfriend appears to stay on the line; Brian has his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone but her loud sniffling can still be heard through the ear piece of the receiver.  When Brian leaves, practically running out the door – Paz calls out for a few Mandos to follow with him, but not Din.
“You should go see Lil’ Lady, brother.”
“Why? What happened?” Din panics.
It wasn’t Paz’s intention to alarm his friend needlessly, realizing too late the folly of his words, “Brian’s girlfriend was being followed while she was out walking the dog.  Not even very discretely.  Two cars filled with guys won’t stop harassing her – she’s not close to home so we’re going to go deal with it.”
“While she was walking the dog?!” Din’s immediate thought goes to you and Al as Paz knew it would.
“Yeah.  We’ll go with Brian.  You go home, ‘kay brother?”
Din’s already packing up, ready to close up the gym and head to your place, the buzzing in his head drowns out anything Paz might be saying: “nothing to worry about” or “it’s not the same.”
It might as well be the same.  Brian’s girlfriend was walking the dog.  You walk the dog.  She was alone.  You walk Al alone.  She had been so very frightened – he could hear it over the phone, and his heart constricts painfully imagining that same current of fear in your voice.  She has a detail, of course, but apparently whoever had gone after her was willing to take the chance, or somehow knew when she would be alone, without Brian and when her security would be rotating off. 
The Mandos can only do so much – even with their efforts, none of the targets being protected are 100% safe 100% of the time.  As he drives, Din can’t help but replay the sound his brain conjures of what you might sound upon realizing you’re in danger, scared and crying out for his help.
By the time he pulls up to your building, he’s come to the only solution that’s viable in order to keep you safe.  The one that that increasingly loud, incessant voice in his head has been nattering about since he saw those photos of you.  With a heavy heart, he picks up his phone and dials a number that he hasn’t called in a long, long time.
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For the past few days, Din’s been coming home earlier and you can tell he’s making an effort not to bring Mando business home with him.  While you appreciate it, you think you would much rather if he told you more about what was going on, or at least be less closed off with you.  Tonight, he comes home tonight with flowers and a big bag of take out from your favourite Thai place as a surprise – you know he’s trying to make up for his mood the last two weeks; his sweetness warms your heart – he’s shut you out a lot recently but you know he probably hasn’t meant to.  And while you don’t need him to apologize for it, you do need him to know he can open up to you about what’s troubling him – the two of you have come such a long way since the first time he told you about his connection to the Fetts; it seems silly to keep you in the dark so much after saying, in Din’s own words, that you were one of them.  Sitting down with your plates, you let Din know as much in a gentle and calming manner – you don’t want him to feel bad, you just want him to know you want to be there for him.
Din sighs, “I know, I’m so sorry, pretty bird.  I don’t mean to shut you out.  I… just don’t want any darkness to ever touch you.”
Leaving your plate behind, you climb into Din’s lap and run your hands through his soft curls, gently placing soft kisses to the corners of his mouth before cupping his face in your delicate hands and cradling it so he looks at you, “I know, baby… but I’m a big girl.  And I know that I have my big bad wolf to take care of me if things are too much.”
Din smiles and closes his eyes, feeling a tingle every place where the soft graze of your fingers touches his skin: his face, jaw, neck.  He could stay like this forever, just melting into your touch.
Nodding, he tells you what you need to hear, “Tomorrow night, I have to do something that I’m dreading.  But it needs to be done and I’m the only one who can do it.  But, pretty bird – if there was any other way, I would never entertain it.  I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.  It consumes my every waking thought.  It will be one of the hardest and maybe worst things I’ve ever had to do – and I don’t even have any idea if it will even work.  I don’t think I’m at all prepared for what will happen after - I’m scared, baby.”
Din's telling you the truth.  Tomorrow, he’s leaving.  Tomorrow, you’ll hate him.  He doesn’t know how he will find the strength to go through with what he has planned - all he knows is that he has to.  He’s almost afraid to open his eyes – he knows that when he does, he’ll be met your understanding and unwavering sympathy for his plight; you always look at him with so much care, love and belief in his goodness.  His heart shatters at how much he’s going to betray that trust.
“Will you be in danger?” you ask, timidly – you won’t ask details because you don’t think Din will give you any, but you’ve never heard Din speak this way before.  Normally so fearless, it’s so unsettling to hear your big, strong warrior admit that he’s afraid.
His eyes forlorn, Din nods, “I wouldn’t rule it out, baby.  If things go a certain way, I’ll go back to my place to lay low, okay?  No matter what, I’ll call you before 9:00 to let you know I’m okay.”
Still holding his face in your hands, you study your sweet, brave Din’s face and try to convey with your own gentle expression that you believe in him, that everything will be alright.  He reads you perfectly and his chest tightens even more – no matter what, you always remain his biggest supporter, confident in his abilities and his decency.  His precious pretty bird.  He closes his eyes and inhales your sweet scent, a mix of your floral perfume and the nameless subtle scent that he associates with just you, as you flutter soft butterfly kisses all over his face and neck.
That night Din takes you to bed and makes love to you.  His loving gaze and hands try to memorize every line and curve of your figure; he kisses your lips swollen so they’ll imprint on his own.  Mentally, Din attempts to record every sigh and sound of pleasure that falls from your mouth, hoping he’s captured them properly so he’ll never forget them.
He makes you sing with his fingers and mouth, honouring every deep valley and cresting wave of your body and thanks you for allowing him the privilege of knowing it so intimately by touching the very deepest, loveliest parts of you.  He drinks from you like a parched man in a desert that knows what he’s found is a mirage, but it’s as good to a desperate man as an oasis, so he’ll have more than his fill while the fantasy lasts.  He gives you mind numbing pleasure and takes none for himself, hoping that every orgasm his gives you tonight will somehow lessen the hurt he’ll inflict tomorrow.  The less selfish part of him knows that it will actually hurt more, but he cannot regret devoting himself to you for just one more night.
When Din finally enters you, it’s with him positioned on top - pinning you beneath his formidable frame, caged in and safe.  He won’t take you any other way tonight.  He won’t look anywhere else tonight but your bright eyes, the ones that remain, for now, filled with adoration and love.  If there’s anything he swears to himself that he’ll remember, it’s these eyes.  They close whenever he steals your air by uncovering those secret parts of you that only he can reach, and snap open wide as you gasp to the sensation of Din dragging along your tight, warm walls.  Later, after he’s already pulled two from you, Din slowly thrusts, stretching and filling you so that you both feel every inch of his worship and he watches them fill with tears.  “I know, baby, I know,” he whispers, not sure if he’s reassuring you or himself as his kisses your wet cheeks. 
The final time you come, you do so in tandem, both you and Din crying out loud, unashamed, and desperate.  Collapsing on top of you, Din softly chants words of praise and love: ‘I love you’ ‘You’re perfect’ “There is no one for me but you’ timed to his still pulsing cock, trailing off only when the fluttering of you sated cunt subsides.
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You wake some time in the night to the gentle movements of Din’s lips pressed into your hair, murmuring words that you don’t understand, either because they’re too quiet or because your brain isn’t quite awake enough.
“Din?” you mumble, still half asleep.
“Sorry, pretty bird,” Din gently pets your hair, “didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”
Rolling so you’re now facing him, you gently extricate one of your arms from under the covers and run your fingers down the strong line of Din’s jaw, smiling softly at the way his scruff tickles your finger.  Din closes his eyes at your feather light touches.
“Can’t sleep because you’re worried about tomorrow, baby?”
Without opening his eyes, Din nods and leans into your hand, encourage you to give his face more of your soft scratching.  He’ll miss this. Your soothing touch. The way you read him and know his feelings sometimes better than he does himself. And, of course, your sweetness - how you take on his troubles as your own so he never feels alone, and honestly, just how much you care. You care so deeply, about him, about everything, and it tears Din’s heart out that soon your beautiful soul will be marred by what he has planned.
He opens his eyes to what he will forever insist is the most gorgeous sight his eyes will ever behold: you smiling lovingly at him, softened eyes full of fondness, confident that the man you’re gazing at adoringly cherishes you, one who deserves how you cherish him right back, “Whatever happens, Din, we’ll get through it.  Together.  But you should get some sleep, baby - you probably need to be well rested for tomorrow.”
He nods again, he’ll agree to anything you say so not to burden you will extra worry or concern.  Still taking care of him. Always caring for him. Fuck. You’re a heaven he never thought he would find.  Din mirrors your actions, stroking your cheek softly as you smile sleepily at him, his gentle actions doing what they intend - lulling you slowly back to sleep.
“You’re so pretty,” Din whispers, unable to string together something more eloquent; it’s beyond him right now to find the words expressive and articulate enough to describe the beauty he’s looking at.
No matter - your face glows at his compliment, “Thank you, baby. You always make me feel so pretty.”
“You are,” Din’s voice is indulgent and true.
“And you make me feel so safe.”
“You are,” his chest tightens a little at this sentiment.
“So loved,” your voice lilts up a little at this declaration, soaring above the notes of the words and its pretty melody makes Din's heart take flight.
“You are,” Din’s emotions nearly choking him now.
“And so happy,” the look on your sleepy face is tranquil, trusting, content.
“Oh, fuck, pretty bird.  You make me so happy, too,” Din’s voice cracks. It’s such an understatement, in some ways even derivative of how you actually make him feel and yet, not untrue - you make him deliriously happy.
“And loved?”
“Yes, baby, I feel loved,” he grins at the innocence in your voice, though he knows when it comes to the lyricism of your words, nothing you say is by chance.
“And safe?”
“Very safe.”
“And pretty?” and there it is: your silly, teasing grin - wide and self satisfied, like a Cheshire Cat.
Din gives you what you want, “Yes, I feel pretty.”
“You’re the prettiest, Din,” you yawn, eyes ready to close but still crinkled in mischief. Not for the first time he wonders at your playfulness and how you always manage to make laugh. He will miss these lighthearted, carefree moments with you the most, he thinks. Miss making you laugh right back. Oh, your laugh. He wishes there was someway he could record it, to have on hand and replay anytime he needed to lift his spirits.
“Ok, sweetheart. It’s clear you’re delirious.  Time for sleep,” he nuzzles his nose against your neck as you giggle.
“Nope, I’m going to remember every word of this tomorrow morning, pretty man,” you insist, though your languid, sinking body belies the conviction in your tone.
Once he hears your soft, sleepy purrs, Din resumes what he was doing before you woke.  He certainly was not sleeping; he won’t let any of these last remaining moments he has with you go to waste.  Instead, he contents himself just watching you sleep in peace, admiring your beautiful features, unable give them up for even a minute more than he has to - not when he knows that this is the last night he has with you in his arms. 
And so, he appreciates as much of you for as long as he can - soaking in your presence and the warmth of your lithe body against his, feeling your soft calm breaths as your chest rises and falls in your worry free sleep.  He murmuringly declares all his love, devotion and regrets, knowing he will never have a chance to speak these truths directly to your face; so like a coward, he pours them out now, hoping something within you will hear him and always know how deeply he cares for you.  And how very, very sorry he is.  He admires your loveliness for as long as he can, forcing himself to keep his eyes open to the woman he loves until he’s overtaken by exhaustion.
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How long is too long?  This is the question you ask yourself at half past 9:00 pm.  When you last saw Din, kissing him goodbye this morning as you left for work, he had reassured you again that he would be careful today and he would check in by nine o'clock.
It’s been an entire day of trying to keep your mind off what Din is doing and failing miserably.  You can’t get the image of your strong hulk of a man - the fighter, the protector - looking so unsure of himself, beaten, frightened.  Anxiously you’ve been awaiting his call all evening, fidgeting and unable to sit still or focus on any task that you attempt to pick up for a distraction.
Is he hurt?
This fear plagues your thoughts starting at 8:00 pm and only intensifies as time ticks by. 
“Fuck it,” you say to Al at 10:00 pm, “I’ll take you for a walk when I get back, ok bud?”  Al looks at you as if to say ‘It’s about time, Lady’ before laying his head back down for a nap that will thankfully be undisturbed by your restlessness.
You fret the entire cab ride to Mando’s, but mercifully, it’s quick.  About to put your key in the lock, it strikes you that it might be a good idea to exercise some caution, so instead, you knock softly.  Worried when Din doesn’t answer right away, you say quietly through the door, “Din, it’s me.  Are you there?  Are you hurt?”
To your relief, you hear the lock start to turn; but when the door finally opens, your stomach drops. 
It’s not Din. 
Instead, Vanessa stands on the other side of the door, half naked - wearing only her underwear and one of Din’s button-up shirts.  You look at each other in silence for what feels like forever; your mind feels foggy, unfocused, but you think you perceive a small smile on her lips.  With every second that passes, the strangling pressure on your heart grows stronger, smothering every loud beat.  Finally, you find your voice, “Is Din here?”
And suddenly he is.  Visible from the doorway and standing only a few steps behind Vanessa, Din’s shirtless and his pants are unbuttoned, as if he had pulled them on in a hurry.  He can’t quite make eye contact with you, and in this moment, any hope that you might have had that this isn’t what it looks like, vanishes. 
Vanessa turns and steps towards Din - as she is about to pass him, she stops at this shoulder and says, loudly, “When you’re done, come back to bed, baby.” Cupping the far side of his face, she pulls him towards her, planting a kiss to the corner of his mouth before she walks off in the direction of the bedroom.
You look away and try to swallow the sob that's trying to claw its way out of your throat.  Din is coming towards you now and instinctively, you back away.  This is not your Din.  Not the Din who always leaves you the last bit of milk for your morning coffee.  Not the Din who holds his hands over your eyes during scary movies, but narrates for you what’s happening because he knows you still want to know.  Not the Din who pledged his love and loyalty to you.  Not your Din.  But your Din is a lie. You think you're going to be sick.
Din watches as you shrink away from him and his heart shatters.  He knows with certainty that he’s lost you.  Yes, this is what he planned for; he needed you to no longer be his. If you weren't his, there would be no incentive for anyone to target you - but seeing you so hurt and being the one to hurt you is more agonizing than he could have prepared for.
He shuts the door so that it’s just the two of you standing in silence in the hall.  Willing yourself to look up, you stare at Din directly, “I came tonight because… I thought you might be hurt.” 
I know, baby, Din laments, I knew you would.  Because you’re considerate and all kindness.  And I leveraged your goodness like a weapon and used it against you.
You pause, still trying to reconcile what you’ve stumbled upon and what you’ve believed up until tonight to be the essence of the man you love.  Didn’t Din assure you that Mandos never cheat?  That he has never and would never?  That you were enough for him?  As if to give him one last chance to somehow offer an explanation that your brain couldn’t conjure up on its own, you continue in a smaller voice, “Just last night you were telling me how happy I make you,” your eyes desperately search his, “How could you do this?”
You do, pretty bird.  You make me so very happy.  Din looks at you with a resigned expression, “I told you… I’m not a good guy.”
You don’t know what you expected – a denial maybe?  Some attempt by Din to comfort you?  An acknowledgement of how he’s betraying a year long relationship that had been one of the happiest of your life?  Somehow this stoic non-response stings just as much as the cheating. 
“No. You’re not,” you whisper.
Din can only look at you sadly, eyes downcast in shame.  No, I’m not, pretty bird.  Finally.  You acknowledge the very truth that Din’s been running from since he met you.  You and your goodness had almost convinced him that despite the things he’s done in the past, or what his connections and ties are, he might be good too - good enough for you.  But a man worthy of you wouldn’t place you in danger just by association; the man you deserve would never betray your sweetness or belief in him by leading you into darkness without your knowledge.
“… you’re an asshole.”
“I am.  I’m sorry.”  It’s the most truth he can offer you tonight.
The tears are coming now and there isn’t anything you can do to stop them.  Your body is screaming at you to leave, to get yourself far away from Din and the flaming wreckage of what you thought was a true and deep love - one you had given all of yourself to and for which you were now left with only questions that you know will never be answered.  “I never want to see you again,” you manage to choke out.
Din is grateful for the small grace that he won’t have to lie to you again.  “You won’t.  I promise,” he whispers, devastated.
And with that, you turn and flee.
---
Din stays standing on the landing until he hears the downstairs door slam; you never turned around and he is suddenly very aware that he will never look upon your face again.  The realization hits him with a force the tips him against his door; he closes his wet eyes and rests there for a minute before going back into his apartment.  When he turns from closing his door, he finds Vanessa standing in the living room, looking at him expectantly.
“Well?”
Din sighs. “Well, what?”
“Is it done?”
Is what done? Is he done breaking the heart of the only woman he’s ever truly loved?  Is he done ruining the best thing that’s happened to him a long time?  Destroying something that’s brought a light to his life he never thought was possible?  He supposes it is done.
Din sighs and nods.  He’s not unappreciative of Vanessa’s help, but she represents everything he’s broken tonight, “Thank you for your help, Vanessa.  Do you need a ride? I can drop you off on my way.”
Vanessa smiles coyly, “Right now?  I thought we could…” she lets her voice trail off, looking eagerly at Din.  But when he remains unmoved, face dispassionate and detached, she takes the more direct route, “I mean, she already thinks we had sex.  We might as well actually have sex.”
Din doesn’t have any fight left in him; he just needs tonight to be over, “I don’t think we can do that, Vanessa.  I have to go, are you sure I can’t offer you a ride?”
She dresses as she gathers her things, annoyed, “Where do you have to go?  Are you going after her?”  Hands on her hips, she looks at him in disbelief, “Din. She hates you.”
“I know she does.  But I still want to make sure she makes it home okay.”
Exasperated, Vanessa storms past Din and out the door, ignoring his offer of a ride and for the second time in ten minutes, Din hears his downstairs door slamming closed. 
---
Din expects you make it to your apartment before him, but he has enough time to park his truck and find a spot where he won’t be seen before he sees you come downstairs with Al.  Your pretty face is ashen and a look of shock is still written on your face.  With a lump in his throat, he watches you let Al do his business and the ensuing tug of war between you and your dog, both intent on going in opposite directions.
His chest aches when he hears you cry as you kneel down, “I’m sorry buddy, I can’t take you for a long walk tonight.  I’m sorry.”
Your sweet pup shows you the compassion and care that Din can’t offer you, allowing you to lead him back into the building without further fuss.
Din stands on the sidewalk, looking up at your apartment far into the night.  He experiences a sinking sensation of déjà vu, remembering the last time he was in this position – when he ended things with you after your third date.  What a fool he is, letting go of his perfect match twice; the finality of his actions this time leaves no hope in his chest.  And so, Din remains rooted where he stands, not moving even when his legs start to protest; he barely registers your security detail coming over to check on him.  Jimmy’s calls of his name or questions as to what happened are unable to cut through the dull droning in Din’s head of his own failings.  Called in by an panicked Mayfeld, Paz arrives a short while later; upon seeing Din’s near catatonic state, he intuits with disbelief what Din did tonight.  With some difficulty, Paz draws Din away and back towards his vehicle – Din never even hears his best friend’s insistent whispers that things will be okay and that they have to go.  His head is filled only with you and a sad recitation that drowns out all other voices: I’m sorry, pretty bird.  I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
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Bc I'm not posting on my usual day, tagging a few people that have been so patient with me and supported this series. Ty ilysm �� @tuquoquebrute @furiousmushroom @cheekychaos28 @72scsuze
@toobsessedsstuff @whirlwindrider29 @inept-the-magnificent @mellymbee @that1nerd-20
@hipabbster23 @bitccchmood @bigbutchenergee @rainbowcat164 @the-strawberrythief
@johnssherlock221 @misstokyo7love @vivian-pascal @florxdexcerezo @fanficlover1414
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bookishfeylin · 2 years ago
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I know the ACOHAS update is late but I'm STILL writing the next chapter. Sorry y'all
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sergle · 4 months ago
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Hugo being beheaded by his cousin, Y'shtola
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sovamurka · 2 months ago
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Do you think Ekko has nightmares after the bridge fight with Jinx?
Do you think he constantly sees this beaten up face with these blue eyes that continue to haunt him with how gentle they were?
Do you think he wakes up in a cold sweat every time the bomb goes off?
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its-a-me-mango · 6 months ago
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HI!!
I really like how you draw smg4 and 3 and was wondering if you have any tips that could help someone like me who can't seen to get it to look right? Its alr if not, i'm just curious! :D
(*Consumes your art aggressively but respectfully*)
Hi, thank you for asking me! I'm not the best at giving art advice/help but I can try my best! :'D
I guess my general advice for both of them is that there is no "right" way for them to look, both of them have fairly simple designs in comparison to other characters in the series, which in turn gives a lot of legroom for stylisation and stuff like that! All you really need to do is pick out their key features (which can be hard with simple characters since... there ain't a lot of obvious ones) and the rest will fall into place!
You can see this with the way SMG4 is shown in official merch, while yes he's more stylised compared to his official model, they all still read as being SMG4! It's through these as well that you can see what aspects of his design stay consistent throughout different drawings of him, namely his wider eye shape, short stature, bold eyebrows, etc. You get the idea, picking up on these and referencing them can help if you're struggling to get them to look right with your own art!
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If you're still struggling to stylise them for your own style, I find it helps to heavily reference/trace the original design first, just to get as close to their intended design as possible, parts of your own style will already start to show through from that (I normally don’t condone tracing others' work unless it’s for stuff like this). 
From there it's just a case of refining them and practising, adding/taking away parts as you go until you get to a style that you're happy with! It doesn't matter if they're not 100% accurate, as long as it's easy and consistent enough for you to replicate them, then it's fine!
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You'll have much better results and an easier time drawing them if you let yourself be more experimental with their designs and learn as you go, rather than trying to get them perfect right away. I know it can be frustrating to not get them right the first time, but you'll find it much easier to adapt them to your style and get them how you want them to look if you just learn and adapt as you go.
I hope this helps in some way! I'm not the best at explaining stuff like this because my main method is just to say "fuck it we ballin" and then draw a character over and over again until I can do it in my sleep, so I hope my ramblings help in some way! You can apply this to any character by the way, not just SMG4, if in doubt just go back to the original reference and keep at it until it looks how you want it to.
Don't be afraid to make drawings that don't turn out right or ones that you're not happy with, it's all part of learning as an artist! You will get there in the end if you put in the effort to learn! <3
Also no one will tell you this so I will but, SMG3 is just SMG4 with a beard, so if you can draw SMG4 you can draw SMG3 no problem LMAO.
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doujinprotag · 2 months ago
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some good irl news; i'm moving!! and the tips from here all truly did help a lot and i can't thank you all enough!!!!!!!! i swear to god i wish i could hug y'all. once i get settled then i don't have to juggle 1823281 things and i'm returning to cosplay/lewds taking again.
other blog news: working (very very very slowly) to integrate this sideblog to a new va account. i'm probably gonna merge this account/rebrand at some point to combine the two. which sounds very fun but ends up in lots of periods of silence 😭 !! so the queue is probably gonna keep running for a while.
dabbing and spinning in place
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