#knotch

[thenntrewrite]

The next redesigned Sin is officially finished!

Ban

Ban's no longer a human—he's now a beast-man.

The idea was to pay homage to his sin and make him a different race that wasn't a human since Escanor's already a human, and I want to keep him that way. I thought a beast-man, based on a fox, would fit him perfectly for a few reasons:

Zhivago (it'd deepen their already cute father-son dynamic), it'd add lore reason to why Ban is in pursuit of a longer lifespan since beast-men canonically have a shorter lifespan than humans by a bit (outside of getting killed by humans), and foxes are usually considered 'devious thieves' and Ban fits the bill pretty well.

His eye-patch and arm isn't just for show—he actually lost his eye and limb in battle against the Red Demon when he first became immortal. The idea is that even if he can't die, he can still lose parts of himself like his legs, tail, arms, ear, etc., which would force him to be more careful I'd say. The wounds heal, but it can't regenerate. Plus, it'd play into his whole 'Sin of Greed' and how in the pursuit of greed, one can lose everything even if achieve what you wanted, in the end.

[flamesignite]

//every single version of roy is hot to meeeee

[cattatoir]

“Smelled something burning, thought Susan was back”

Is a top notch line that is so funny

[sharpedgedfool]

Going through old sketches to find script notes for tdso and I found like 3 pages filled with just different ear shapes from when I was trying to figure out how to draw Rouge's ears lmao

[technically-a-principality]

It's definitely not going to be the most stage accurate Skye from Beetlejuice the musical but I'm hoping posting this gives me the push to actually make the sash this weekend...

[eddiernunson]

Would you rather win the lottery or work at the perfect job? And why? 👀

DOUBLE EDGED SWORD.

I've seen so many instances of lottery winners saying they lost all their winnings only a handful of years after the fact and they end up worse than before. They quit their jobs, start doing the big purchases, but have no stream of income to make up for their spending.

If the perfect job is writing novels, then I'd prefer that, bc tbh I think lotteries are a scam. Would I be ecstatic I won? YES! Would I quit my job because of it? Nope.

However I hate 40 work weeks with a passion. All this just to get by? Wild.

[terracottahearted]

Leisure // Blur - 1991

[bitchout]

Me: Ok I won’t open Tumblr till I watch the new Puppet History cause there will be a lot of spoilers.

Me: *watches puppet history*

Me: What the fuck..?

Me: What the fuck..?

Me: What the actual fuck?

Me: *brain is numb* Error 404

Me: ……………………

[dyslexic-mess]

Ya ever just like. Feel yourself get hotter?

Like, you finally figured out how to do your hair or eyeliner or buy an item of clothing that you can just TELL has clicked as a permanent part of your charicter design.

You just. Feel yourself getting a little closer to what you where always meant to look like and it's hot as fuck. It's what younger you thought they were doing back in high school.

Its the best

[instaperil-blog]

[dumbbastardsworld]

Johnny cage is destined to get divorced in every timeline.

[robbiedaymonds]

i watched mortal kombat last night (yea yea judge me lol) and no one told me lewis played not only a dad but a girl dad?! my heart couldn’t handle it!!

[itslixtoyou]

Revenge

Miguel O’Hara x fem reader

Fic type - NSFW/smut (Minors dni)❗️

Warnings - Miguel is possessive, oral sex, semi-public sex because there’s someone in the next room, Miguel is a little forceful, p in v sex, lmk if I missed any.

Summary - You tell Miguel about the guy who’s been flirting with you at work, so he invites him over to clarify how he feels of this man’s pathetic behavior; but not with his words. ;p

Word count - 1,800 words

Note - This is kind of short and sweet, I wrote it while I was in a mood lol.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Miguel’s voice sounded tired as he walked inside, one hand holding his phone up to his ear while the other closed the front door; locking it as well.

You glanced up to look at him from where you were sitting on the couch. He gave you a small grin while he made his way through the house, continuing his conversation as he set his stuff down on the floor next to you.

“Alright, thank you sir.” He spoke, placing his hand behind his neck. “Okay, I’ll let you know in the morning.” He glanced at you with his eyes strained, silently complaining about how he wished the call would end already.

Fortunately for him, his pleas were answered.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodbye.” He ended the call, sighing heavily afterward.

“Sorry, Cariño.” He smiled as he walked toward you, planting a kiss to the top of your head and taking a seat next to you on the sofa. “How did your meeting go?”

“It was good,” You motioned for him to lay his head on your lap; which he happily complied with. “It wasn’t as long this time so I got to leave early.” You started explaining, feeling him rest against your thighs.

“That’s good.” He slowly began circling your leg with his thumb, nuzzling his face against your soft skin.

“So, when I got there...” As you continued with your full report of the meeting, Miguel quickly began to tune you out. He didn’t mean to ignore you of course, but the minute you placed your fingers in his hair and began gently scratching at his scalp, he knew he couldn’t resist falling into his trance.

He closed his eyes to listen, not necessarily to the words you were blurting out, but to the sound of your voice.

What were you saying? Something about a co-worker? He didn’t care that much, all he was concerned with now was that soothing tone of yours and how it seemed to calm him, relaxing him after the stressful day he’s had.

“Mhmm,” he faked a response, reveling in your touch as you eagerly ranted on.

Coming home was always his favorite part of the day and the reason for that was right here, letting him rest on her lap. It was occasions like this that he enjoyed the most, fragments of time where he didn’t have to worry about a single thing. Though he had no clue as to the words you were speaking, his heart grew warm nonetheless.

That is, he wasn't listening, until something you said suddenly grabbed his attention.

“Wait what?” He quickly got up from your lap. “Say that again?”

“He asked me to have dinner with him.” You repeated your last sentence.

“Who did?!” He asked urgently.

“That new guy I was telling you about the other day. Apparently he didn’t know I was married.” You giggled at the miscommunication, however, your husband didn’t share in your giddiness.

Miguel was furious. He knew who this guy was. He’d been flirting with you from the day he got hired, but now he’d clearly decided to take it up a knotch.

How the hell could he not know you're married?! Did he not see the ring on your finger?

That’s when Miguel paused, remembering you hadn’t been wearing your wedding ring the past few days because you had to get it re-sized.

That must’ve been it! That must be the reason that little weasel thought he had a chance.

Since you were too preoccupied with your job, you didn’t talk much about your husband while at work anyways. If you did, it would’ve been with the employees you were close with, not someone you just met like this annoying new guy.

You probably hadn’t even talked about Miguel yet around him, and that’s why he thought he could creep his way into this marriage.

“What’d you tell him?”

You chuckled at his question; assuming you’d ever say anything besides “no.”

“I told him I have a husband obviously.”

Your hand swatted his shoulder lightly, telling him to knock it off with the newfound jealousy he was clearly feeling.

Except it wasn’t jealously he was experiencing, it was possession.

How dare this man pretend he even had the smallest chance with a woman like you, or that he could so easily replace the man you called your husband.

He shouldn’t even have the privilege to look your way, much less have the audacity to think you’d be interested in a bum like him.

This man was already an annoynace in your husband’s eyes, but now he crossed the line. And now he’d pay for it.

“Why don’t you invite him over for dinner?”

Your nose scrunched at his suggestion. “What?! Why?”

Miguel quickly leaned in to place a tender kiss to your cheek, pretending to have changed his attitude. “Just so he knows for sure that you’re married. Plus, we can set him up with one of the more desperate ladies in the office.”

You were confused at first. Why would Miguel want to have him over for dinner, he clearly despised the man? But while your husband placed a second kiss to your cheek, whispering about how “he’s got this” and “it’ll be fine,” you figured there was nothing to worry about.

After all, it’s just a dinner, nothing too terrible should come from it, right?

WRONG.

When your husband first asked you to leave the dinner table and follow him to the bedroom because he “needed help with something,” it’s safe to say you didn’t expect him to start making advances on you.

“Miggy!” You squealed as he pushed you down onto the mattress, assuming his position on top and trapping you beneath him. “What are you doing? We can’t do this now!”

“We’re doing it.” He answered with a stern tone, wasting no time in stripping you of the clothes that covered you.

He took a second to pause afterward, admiring your glorious body beneath him. He smirked gently at the sight, knowing this was a view only he had the privilege of seeing.

That little pervert still sitting at the kitchen table could never dream of observing something like this. Your figure was a work of art to put it lightly, every heavenly curve of your outline was nothing short of breathtaking.

And it was all Miguel’s.

He quickly adjusted his stance, spreading your legs widely and lowering his mouth to your cunt.

“Wait Miguel-”

“Hush querido,” he shushed you, leaning forward to spread you open and begin his revenge.

You tired to protest. It was beyond unsuitable to be doing this when your co-worker was unknowingly sitting in the room right next to you both. What if he heard?!

But you see, that’s exactly why your husband was doing this; He wanted him to hear. He wanted to prove to that filthy little urchin that he never had a chance with someone as astonishing as you.

That imbecile could never treasure you the way Miguel did, he’d never know how to make your back arch and your fingers tighten around the sheets the way Miguel does.

He’d barely even started, but just his tongue was enough to have your eyes rolling back and your lips spreading to moan his name. So much for trying to stop him.

You did try at least, but once he started lapping at you just the way he knew you liked it, your self control was all but gone.

Miguel knew every movement that made you shudder, every flick of his tongue that made your thighs squeeze against his head. He especially knew how much your pussy loved the feel of his cock plunged inisde you, how your eyes would well up with tears when he hit that sweet spot just right.

Miguel knew all these things that no one else did, especially not the man who was eating at his dinning table. The one who stupidly thought he could even come close to measuring up to your husband.

“Miguel! Nghh!” You moaned, trying to catch your breath as your husband reletnelesly paced inside you.

“Louder!” He demanded, making his thrusts deeper so you’d obey. “Louder hermosa, I want him to hear your voice.”

He gritted his teeth, grasping your thighs so he could nuzzle himself deeper inside you. Which quickly sent you over the edge.

“Ugh! Fuck!” Your legs trembled at his touch, feeling the way he was drinking you in; completing you.

“That feel good?” He cooed, placing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Who makes you feel this good, huh? Anyone else?”

You shook your head as a reply, but he didn’t like that answer.

“Say it! Who makes you feel this good? Anyone else?”

He repositioned himself, leaning backwards for a little head start before he slammed back inside you.

“Agh!” Your walls quickly clamped down on him, a blissful sensation washing over you in the process. “No- ugh!.. No one else Miguel- ahh.. only- o-only you!”

Your sentences were slurred and your breathing staggered. You were struggling to speak the words he commanded, but you got there eventually.

“That’s right. No one but me!” He boasted loudly, thrusting for the last time before he decided enough was enough and laid against your bare chest.

With how loud those sweet moans of yours were, there was no doubt that pathetic excuse of a man in the other room heard it. Miguel had made his point. He’d shown what a real man is capable of when it comes to pleasuring a woman the right way. He proved just how insignificant that little moron was. Also how idiotic he was for ever thinking he could even breathe your direction without compensation for it.

Looks like your new co-worker will be finding a job elsewhere, especially after the way he scurried out the front door once the two of you finally came back to that forgotten dinning table.

“No its fine, I just forgot I had plans! I should be going now!” The cretin was stuttering out excuses like there was no tomorrow. Going on about how he had a “family emergency” he had to get to immediately.

And Miguel had the greatest pleasure of hearing from you about how your little friend had decided to quit his new job unexpectedly the next day.

How odd. I wonder what made him decide something so suddenly?

Oh well, what a shame.

[shybelly444]

Holy heck those love handles 😳Soooo close to finally outgrowing these. They sometime unbutton when I sit down 🤭 lately I’ve been noticing just how big I’m getting. All of my clothes used to hang off of me when I was skinny have all grown super tight. All of my pants and boxers are tight my belt is on the second to last knotch crazy I did this to myself

[court-jobi]

We Have Time

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Words: 4,661

Rating: Teen/Mature (spicy second half) 18+ to be safe, my lovelies

A/N: the helmet comes off, separation anxiety, comfort comfort comfort, oral (fem receiving), hand-holding spicy times, my love language is Mando'a, Mandalorian partnerships are top tier, Soft!Din Djarin

Summary: Your heart is torn in two, where your past life and the one you're living in now come to a crossroads and you need to make a decision. Temporary as it is, the stakes feel higher than ever. You're asked to take part in an incredibly lucrative job-- one that'll bring home the biggest paycheck of your life-- at the expense of six weeks of your time, and away from your life partner for the first time in a year.

Now that you have a home, something to lose... something to miss.

But if there is one man who can make you feel like the only creature in the galaxy he would drop anything for, who would support you and your brilliant mind, who would encourage you to the edge of Wild Space and back-- it is your riduur, Din Djarin.

And your Mandalorian is top knotch at keeping his promises and pleasures to you; will give them to you in equal measure:

--in the light of day, and in bed if you ask...

Read on AO3

"That was quick. Back already?"

You'd stopped under the repulsor grille of the Razor Crest, shuffled about until he wheeled himself out from the underside of the ramp. The moment he saw your face, he sat to attention on his knees. 

"--Cyar'ika?"

"He offered me the job."

"Thirty-five…" He repeated, stunned, "thousand credits?"

"--A week;" Dead serious. "Thirty-five, a week."

Din swayed a moment, elbows to his knees; presently, reevaluating all his life choices. “I sure got into the wrong business, didn’t I.”

“Not to brag or anything,” you gave a dazzling smirk his way, “but your girl is a badass when it comes to making the big bucks~”

"What kind of freighters are these?"

"Really kriffing big ones." You gave a smirk, "This is an investment that's gonna take boss-man to the next level of bacta distribution."

"Damn right. It has to be."

How could you not become a mogul with twenty of these freighters in your fleet?

"How long do they need a mech there?" Din asked next.

"Corbyn said the initial contract request outlined work for 4 weeks.." you tweaked the timeline, "-maybe a more realistic five, depending on the speed of things. If they have to order more parts than expected, it could add a couple day’s labor in the meantime. That's not too uncommon."

Din's helmet bobbed around amazed- the tone flowing through his helmet to show he was impressed, 

"That's a hell of a job. You handle things like that?"

"I've done it before. You fill 'other duties as assigned' to kill time while deliveries show up. Things that need the human touch, y’know? Not droid repairs or anything. He's probably got plenty of odd projects I can wrap for him in the shipyard. Speeders, junkers, old gunships he likes to restore and lease out."

Comically, Din looked around to the Razor Crest- his own old girl  that could use a 'bit of work'.

"If I'd known you could handle fleet tech," he rose to his feet to join you, "I'd have given you the bigger bunkroom from the start. Experience like yours deserves better perks than just any ride-along mechanic. No wonder he wants to lock you in."

"C'mon, don't be dramatic~" You laughed. "I don’t need fuss. I might be in demand right now, but m'not that impressive."

"You are impressive.” Din pressed, “I'm not shocked at all."

His confidence in you never failed to make you beam… though it carried weight this time around. The biggest paycheck of your life is on the chopping block in front of you.

The Mandalorian wrenched the tool against the base of his palm. All teasing aside, the stakes were setting in; you can tell by where he looks off now. He asked the biggest factor:

"...And the start date?"

"Well:" you bit the bullet with a gnaw of your teeth against your cheek, "end of this week." 

Din nodded. Brief. Accepting.

"Think you'll be ready in that quick of a turnaround?" 

You froze– that assumption was a mega leap. You hadn't even gotten that far.

"He– didn't really give me a chance to ask what I'd need to wrap up; he went to catch someone else before they left the hangar. But good grief, Din," you crossed your arms and furrowed your brows to confusion, "I wouldn't have given him an answer even if he asked– I'd never just do something like this without telling you!"

He seemed to straighten at that. Surprised for some reason, that you would think this way when it was all obvious to you.

You caught yourself– no sense in unpacking that to death. Next question.

"How did you leave things then?"

"Said he'd check back in the morning for my decision either way. He recognized the ship, knows where to find me.." you gestured lightly beside you, the booster you stood beneath. 

The tense proposition buzzed around your head. This job looks on flimsi to be the makings of a good deal, a strong as hellfire tick on your winstreak, and one you wouldn't have blinked at six months ago. 

But you knew what that would require: leaving. Both your Mandalorian and the Child. Your beloved boys that roped you in and made you their family.

It's funny, the last time you took a job like the old days, things went completely wrong from the start and ended before it ever got off the ground:

It was only a short time after you'd met, but sparks had already begun to fly between you and this Mandalorian; you'd worked so perfectly together so far. In tandem, each other's missing piece. And what's more, you found yourself enjoying the company, knowing you didn't have to go it alone anymore. That was so refreshing– and unheard of. Like the oddest pairing of hard to soft, a sun-warmed kitten to cold humanized steel, you were drawn into each other's orbit to thrive better than you might have alone. This was a partnership, truly. And you saw a solo job as a way to contribute, pull your weight. 

So you agreed to one that came your way one day, and called it an easy win- he'd drop you off, pick you up, same time next week. You'd felt a little funny leaving him, even then. In this time together, you knew you’d surely miss his company, but denied yourself any true separation anxiety: it’s not like it was earned. How could it be? You'd just met. 

But you'd parted. Gone your separate ways with a rendezvous plan already in the forefront of your mind as you went to meet your ride– 

–when an explosion along the tram you were set to board sent a crowd hurtling towards you. If you hadn’t said a long goodbye like you did, if you’d stalled just two minutes less… you'd have been on that train. 

It was pronounced a cylinder misalignment, diagnostic fluke or something like that– and not intentional. But you didn’t know that at the time. A sudden burst of fuel setting the entire transport dock ablaze had you shook.

You'd turned tail to run straight back towards where the Mando had left you– only to hear your name being shouted from a clouded receiver, encased in a beskar helmet, somehow rising loud and strong over the swarm of panic-ridden pedestrians… 

He was running to you, too. 

Didn't bother making other arrangements for the job call in all the chaos, after that. But given that little scare, you both decided to just cut the losses and try again next time the opportunity presented itself. Bad luck, eh? Next time, for sure.

…That was eight months ago. You ruled out any solo jobs, and so did he.

If only for a short tenure, the op; and this time wasn't unheard of or impossible.. But not only were you rusty, but the timing was horrible. And long.

Din set his tool down, finally rising to come up to you.

“We can talk it through all you like…" he posed to you, "But you’ll need to listen to your gut in the end. What do you think?"

You looked back wildly. He was leaving this huge decision up to you?? Did he seriously think you'd blindly accept?

"What do I think?" You started defensive, then… stopped. 

Considered, and easing up, you sighed. 

You eyed the split in the exhaust somewhere over Din's head, the one on its last leg. 

"I think... it would be enough to fix her." You scanned the Razor Crest, her makeshift patches along the outer shell of the thruster. "-And then some. I know money isn't everything, but.. It's a shit-ton of money, babe. It's... doable." you laughed nervously, thankful Din finally joined your side as you explained the pros.

Doable was an understatement. This was more than agreeable, at this paygrade. You'd be a dikut to turn down even half that price. 

After he brushed them off a bit, his hands came up to hold your cheeks; visor trained on you, unreadable. But you knew better. He was assessing, looking for the hesitation, the test of any doubts.

"You could stop taking pucks for a while," with a small smile, you caught his wrists in return "Skyborn knows you deserve a break. You can rest up for once..."

He made a little sound, stroking your cheek in a gentle show of thanks. You were considering you both in this, which broke you more to think about going separate ways for a while.

You ran through the logistics, too– the loose ends.

"And– I figured you'd be off to find that Jedi anyway, and I know how you get about worlds I haven't been to before. This would be an easy one. Just your average, smoggy, Corellian garage.You've seen one? Then picture it, filled with bubba Rhodians and Keshiris, and that's the home away from home." You joked gently.

There were plenty of benefits to this arrangement and Din nodded curtly to acknowledge them, but a gentle shake of his head showed he was still pondering some things, unseen..   You really wished you'd told him all this inside, where you could read his reaction better. 

The quiet from him was beginning to make you doubt your good reasoning at all. 

"Please say something?" You begged softly.

Only one thing came to mind- by the way he was likely running through the script of his whenever he thought of you, you had a good idea what he’d say. 

His aliit. His creed. Your safety, above all else.

"This Corbyn... Do you trust him?"

It was a loaded question. Trust was rare for him, yet you earned his. But Din couldn't be responsible for you while in the care of someone else, which clearly had him on edge about all this. He’d surely wanna meet the guy before you shipped out. While that thought seemed parental, you understood it- and would expect no less from the man who valued you like the finest of beskar ingots.

You braved a little smile.

"I do. He's a good guy. Bites off more than he can chew but--- but it's the same setup as I did back when he hired me for the baby stuff,” you squeezed his wrists, “It would be safe.”

A careful thumb came to your temple, brushing the beskar steel adorning you. Pushed your hair back in a stylish fashion, it did– but in reality was your beautiful proposal gift. Then Din traced the skin just below it, raking through your hair. The touch ached.

"I didn't think this would ever happen. Didn’t know he docked this far out for fueling anyway,” you absently studied you Mandalorian’s thick cowl from your spot here at chest level. “I haven't had a way to contact Wid in forever. Hell, I know I used to do this all the time before, but… It's just different now.” you sunk into him. Your gut deflated, sadder the more you spoke. “And if all goes well at the next stop, well… the kiddo will be gone too."

That still made you sick to think about. Your voice was catching and you hated it.

"It's just a lot think about, leaving you right now. I don't know what my gut thinks about it." 

Fortunately, he soothed you like no other: at the first sound of distress, he’d slid a steadying hand down to your waist and pulled you close to accept his touch. His forehead met yours.

"Mhi solus tome, mesh’la, bal dar'tome" He spoke softly. "We vow these words for this exact circumstance." 

It meant so much more to you now: one when together, and apart.

"My kind, we grow up with buirkan. Our carers have no formal roles. They are buir. They both share the load, they both meet the needs of their ad, their tribe. That’s what partnership is; I… I ask what you want to do, because I know no other way.” 

Din caressed down to your chin, taking in your fully torn expression. 

“I trust your judgment here, mesh’la. I leave this one to you; you know this kind of work better than I do. If you're comfortable.. and -only- if you're comfortable, and you -want- to do this, you have my support. Always."

You wanted to break at this trust, crush and crumble at his bouying nature. He was handing you the reins as equals, despite the hushed strain he said the words. He could say all the right things, but by no means did he not feel. You knew it wasn't easy– not even for him.

Up the repaired ramp, you caught sight of the child peeking out from the ship’s open door. He called in that funny little chirp– trying to sing again.

You smiled, despite the lurching feeling in your chest shaking you. "Hi, buddy."

He waved and watched his own steps as he hurried down the ramp.

You met his short arms just a step out of Din's hold, and brought the child up to you. He seemed to know something was wrong, because his ears fell back the moment his settled at your chest level where he'd reached up for your face. You shut your eyes at the touch.

"This won't be a forever goodbye." Din soothed you, “You know that, right?” 

Din must be forgetting how poor the reception on Corellia is.

You chimed back, knowing the truth for yourself. "Gotta prepare myself as if it is, though."

"We don't know what we'll find there." Din set a hand to your low back again, unable to keep from you for too long. "The Jedi may not even be in Calodan. We could be back before you know it; and we'd wait here until your work term is done."

The optimistic thought did sound better and helped you swallow. 

"That's fair. Stranger things have happened."

Your Mandalorian. Sweet, sweet Din. Under the hum of the air reserves cycling outside the ship, he cupped the back of your head and leaned against your temple. 

"I know you're torn. But you don't need to worry about us in this. We’re behind whatever you decide."

The child looked to his buir. He reached a bit to his shoulder strap for Din, so you passed him over. That helmet of his hid a lot– but not tone. He clearly didn't like the thought of this either; having to explain to the kid why you’d be gone by the time he wakes up in the morning in a few days. 

So he treated it like any other trip. 

"How bout it, pal," he spoke with a quirk of the helmet to the Child, "Would you be ok with a solo trip for a while? Just like old times."

The munchkin cooed at this, fingers raking over the notches. He seemed happy, if he understood at all. Good thing he’s young, you thought. A peaceful hope, at the very least.

It gave you a happy comfort– for now.

The real churning would hit you when you gave Corbyn your answer. When he gave you the gameplan for the rest of the team he’s hiring, and when he got to meet your very intimidating Mandalorian husband– who he profusely sucked up to when he observed how protective he seemed of you. 

When that last night came and you tucked in the kiddo and realized you'd be packing up for your first real time away from your Mandalorian: your husband. 

…for the first time in over a year.

The Mandalorian brought you to bed in the most tender, gentlest way he ever had that night. In complete darkness, the way he did before he'd shown his face: where your senses would be sharpened and you'd feel everything he did, and take your time doing it. 

Maybe it was a comfort for himself too, out of an old habit to shield himself while next to bare that you didn't seem to mind. Through little noises: elated, pleasurable, heartfelt, tickled sighs and begs, he always found his way across you.

–But he heard the difference between a gasp and a cry. 

At the second you inhale sharply in a clear watery sniff he stopped giving kisses down your ribcage. Where he'd been massaging you with careful, trigger steady hands tucked under your sweater, Din climbed back onto his knees and shifted up to cradle your face with those same warm palms.

"Hey.. I'm right here. What's wrong?" Din asked gently.

You process by his tone that he'd halted altogether–

Hands clawed for his arms to come back around you,

"Nono no, don't stop!"

He thumbed beside your eyes, meeting wetness.

 "Riduur.."

"I'm fine, jus-- just keep going, please." your snivels did little to convince him you were okay. Desperate for him as always, but not out of pure lust anymore.

Above you -practically blind- the Mandalorian tensed. Worried for your heart above all else. Testing light, brushing fingers along your neck and onto your chest, he strove to feel past your flushed, quivering shield. To soothe your skin, but also check your heart rate.

He avoided the suspicious edge in his chest with a calm, doting voice,

"We have time, cyar'ika."

"No, we don’t!-- I--"

There it was.

A kiss graced your crown to still you, then a longer one over your lips. He leaned his forehead to yours, calming you with strokes through your hair until you gathered your true thoughts. Naturally, he'd wait as long as he needed to let you continue, but he didn't need to wait long to hear your whisper. 

"Tell me again this is a good idea…"

Tell me I need to go through with it, or else I'll talk myself out.

You felt lips trailing lower in soft presses, taking all your piqued attention while they went on the hunt for a sweet spot. Din’s unfiltered voice made you shiver with each bit he’d speak against the column of your neck… down and up again.

He whispered, beyond tenderness and into reverence, 

"This isn't going to be forever.” A kiss to your cheek briefly, “You're going to do a great job and you're coming through for a friend. Won’t just help you, but millions in the galaxy who will benefit from the work you’re doing. This is something big, and you're being rewarded for it. This is a good thing." 

You heard the smile in his voice and thanked Ashla -once again- for the Grace given to you to have a man like this in your arms. 

"You're brilliant, riduur.” Din sang your praises, “You're giving up so much. But I'm really proud of you... This isn't too big for us."

You nodded, getting a grip and gaining a controlling breath.

“It’s not too big for us.”

“That’s right.”

"I'm gonna miss this." You touched his cheek, craving this proximity while you had it. 

He leaned into it and kissed the palm when it slid into reach.

"I'm right here."

He is here, and the words warm you through, sending a heat wave that buzzes around your spine when you let yourself believe it.  He's right here, and he is all yours. Would be, too, even if you were jumps away in the stars. 

You were one when together, and you would be one when apart. 

The latter would be tested soon, but that creed? You'd take both truths with you as your own. 

He's right here. 

And he proved it. 

Din's tongue made a few kitten licks as he kissed your wrist next; then down, and down, until he merged both your fingers and pressed where you joined into the space above your head. His order, to stay there, while his left yours to send sparks down your arm on the underside, to tease. 

"You know," Din's adoring tone dripped with doting interest while he resumed mapping out your body.   "Just like with 'love', there's not really one word to say 'im sorry' among our people."

"You can't– say– just 'sorry'?" Your voice still sounded wet at its edges, but your chest clipped with interest. "What do you say when you kriff up, then?"

Din laughed with a rasp, but answered, 

"Depends how big you kriff up. Something small, that's nothing. You'd let it go. No harm done."

–Then Din's hands made a parallel move behind your knees, pulling and pinning them up with a sudden fierceness. 

Talking about a tangent: he’s talking about apologizing, but for what… He'd done nothing wrong, you thought. But you let him speak; he's enlightening you. Surely to distract, but by chik it's working. 

From where he sat, he was fully between your legs and about to bow over you.

"But when I need forgiveness, true forgiveness–" 

You hummed for his answer.

"Ni ceta," Din kissed your sternum. The lips dragged downward in a slow crawl, then nearly growled from the deepest part of him: " 'I kneel.' "

You gasped when his tongue swiped up your core. Every end of your body sang out its pleasure at the touch– his tasting you while on his knees. The heat made you keen. Your sweater didn't stay on for long once he started. 

You shucked out of the rest of your nightclothes as easily as you could, then let your arms fall lax above your head again. He wasn't checking that you were holding onto anything, but you minded where he last left them. When you ground up, he pressed you down. When you moaned, he copied you- right onto your clit. And when you sighed his name, those expert hands massaged you within every inch of his reach. 

By all means, you should be on your knees for him for as good as he felt, how he was treating you… falling only just short of worshipping you without words. 

Your drop was coming, coming, coming, and you were about to completely fall apart by that tongue of his. You told him so, with a quiver to your voice and hands shooting down to stroke along his head between your thighs. 

"Din– Din, Din honey…"

He purred into you with a few rounding nudges of his head. 

"Yes, m'angel," he whispered in the space between you, between his kisses, "Lemme kneel for you. Lemme send you off right t'night– straight to the stars, cyar'ika."

The telltale sign was your quick breaths and baby whimpers, so Din doubled down and tamped his arms down on your waist– until you came, hard.

You cried out of complete pleasure now, your sobs turning into pitiful begs with a dazed smile that betrayed any tear at the edge of your eyes. You tried to push Din's head away entirely, but he didn't let up until he heard the actual words, 

"Please!! Please, n-no more, baby–"

You minded your volume only for the sake of the kiddo outside the door; you didn't want him thinking you were in pain and taking it on himself to investigate (like last time). 

Released and limber, you panted as your adoring husband simply took a hand to your core and rubbed it slow and steady to quivering calmness. He licked his own lips with a satisfied sigh in cleaning himself up. 

"There she is." Din's praises returned, "There's my happy Love…"

"You're–" you wheezed, "youh-what’dya do wrong… that y’needed forgiveness?..”

He nuzzled into your neck, pleasure and prayers coating each of his kisses: to cover you with his love before you go.

“I’m a selfish man,” Din craved the warmth he found there, “Tempted to devour you where you stood, watching you run through those schematics with your boss today… Had to hold myself back by a rancor’s leash. Can only hope-” he nibbled at your ear, “-that this is enough to atone for this covet’s heart.”

Pride flooded you, invigorating. Filling you even more than his words usually did.

“Well fuck,” you sighed again, “You’re forgiven…" 

Din's hands petted you, while he dropped kisses up your body this time, starting to settle. Before he got too far, you halted his ascent by his shoulders, 

"But… you don't hafta leave your knees yet.."

With a warm smile you know would be there, you could only feel in the dark how Din’s loving laugh came with its teasing caress to bless you. To wish you only good memories, good thoughts, the things he promised to give you in droves. The love you so much deserved and what he was all too passionate to give you as he knelt between your legs filled you completely, the tale of which came through his tender reach: pulling your thighs back to him– one hanging clear up to his shoulder.  

Delicious scratches made by his fingers skirted down that leg. ‘Want’ screamed its way through touch. Touch that you would miss so badly… touch you would crave when you laid down alo-

"Liser ni ceta, ner mesh’la? Cin vehtin, gedet'yu gar se ner riduur ru’kir?”

Din’s words sent you shivering– of course, you had no clue what half of those meant. And he knew that. Cheeky. 

But it worked, you know. It always did pull you from your misery– curiosity for this man and everything about him. 

“You’re tryna kill me with that mouth, aren’t you?” you chuckled. “Take my heart right outta my chest before I can even think?”

Din kissed your ankle while he teased the soft, supple core where you were about to join– the ‘last chance’ moment he always gave you. Encased in darkness, your sign of ‘yes’ in lieu of a nod was a wiggle to ‘get a move on’. 

“Have that already, I think. Just as you have mine,” Din slid home and relished your sigh at the intrusion. His own groan sent his breaths reeling at the new closeness.

“Really not fair I–  (ahhh) can only catch l-like– two words outta that..”

Din ground up into you. He’s not really setting a pace yet– just getting comfortable and giving you time.

“You know me. I prefer to show you what I mean anyway, Angel-Eyes.”

God those pet names… You’ll miss them as if you’re missing a limb. How will you manage..-

“Gotta remind you of what’s waiting for you when you come home to me,” Din broke you from your thoughts, “...N’... have something to remember you by.”

Relaxing around him, your eyes fluttered shut. Home– that sounded heavenly. And if you had more of this– a lifetime of it, even– well that sounded worth it to you. 

And that little comment told you everything: he’s going to miss you, too.

You moaned lightly, reaching for his shoulder to pull him down. So, he released your leg to make room, and gave you a full, searing  kiss once he laid flat. Even if your positions were reversed, he couldn’t meld with you any closer. 

“S’this ok?” he whispered.

You whimpered your ‘yes’– a happy one, now. Full. 

So you didn’t bother asking what that string of Mando’a meant– but gave your best guess.

“Then– f’you’re asking to make it last… so I can’t forget…” you begged with hands locking onto his, “then yes. Please, riduur–”

Heart thundering wildly in your chest, you caved when Din leaned in and started kissing your neck so deeply, and so strongly, that you knew you’d have no trouble remembering him for the next several weeks. 

Surely it would pass quickly- life had a way of doing that. All was going to work out. 

He would be here for you– together and apart.

He only broke off from the dampened skin of your neck to bow into the curve of your shoulder– before throwing his entire self into your loving embrace from the power of his hips. He kneels there, just long enough to hear you:

“Make this last for me.”

[eyecan02]

Analysis: Why Alastor is Randy and Why I'm Not Being Completely Delulu About It

While we may not know how frequently/infrequently Alastor would sleep with someone, one thing we do know is that apparently (according to Viv's former coworker Faustisse) Alastor did not die a virgin.

So if he's not a virgin, that means he occasionally did have sex and that it's been 7 years since he's last been intimate with someone. Let's just say for example that Alastor had a routine of doing it once or twice with a woman every 3 months or so.

That would mean a routine he was used to was suddenly disrupted for 7 years so I think the story is beginning with Alastor in a period of wanting- that rare urge someone like him would get to have sex on his terms.

He was someone's prisoner for 7 years , and continues to be someone's slave even with his leash "loosened". He likely didn't get to talk/interact with a lot of people wherever he was. As he told Charlie in the first episode,"It's been some time since..." and does a little walking gesture with his claws.

Almost as if he's trying to say that he's sort of trying to "find his land legs again" while he reacclimates to his old home and interacting with people once more.

In the first episode, right off the bat we see see Alastor reacting to something sex related. He shadow summoned himself to Angel's side before Angel even mentioned Alastor when he suggested a porn as a commercial.

Alastor's reaction was replying with, "Ha! Never going to happen!" A lot of people assume this means Alastor is sex repulsed, but he's literally only known Angel a week at this point so I feel like it's the way most people would react to someone speaking so boldly to them.

People focus entirely too much on that line and don't pay attention to one very important detail of that scene. The shadow summoning part. It's interesting the way Alastor instantly teleports to Angel's side.

Why? Can he read minds? Does he automatically know when someone is thinking of having sex with him? Could it be maybe that he also has sex on the brain? Obviously not with Angel but just in general.

Another thing I haven't really seen a lot of people talk about is this one line from episode 2. After Sir Pentious returns a piece of Alastor's coat, Alastor says, "Oh, not many have been able to take even this much off of me."

Out of all the ways he could've phrased it, he chose to say it in a way that made the line sound on the verge of sexual. To me, it sounds like an Easter egg about Alastor's sexuality. As if they're trying to say that just because Al doesn't have many knotches on his bed post...it doesn't mean that there aren't any knotches.

In episode 3, we're shown that Alastor has two chairs in front of his fireplace- alluding that he does want company/is expecting a guest in his room at some point. Zestial's comment in this episode is interesting.

"Some had suggested that you'd fallen to...holy arms." The way it could also mean Alastor has FALLEN for someone "holy"/literally part angel because of her dad.

Then there's Zestial's other line, "There too have been rumors of thy involvement with the princess and her recent flight of fancy." Alastor's eyes are dilated at the mention of Charlie.

Alastor only appears in a flashback in episode 4, but I feel like this episode not only alludes/reflects what he's up to, it also serves to demonstrate Val as a direct foil for Alastor. We have to remember that Val only owns Angel half the time so when Angel is not in the studio, Angel gets to rebel and choose his own partners. Unlike Alastor who seemingly did not have freedom for 7 years.

I feel like Alastor is both fascinated and envious of Angel for having a certain degree of freedom so I feel like he tries to take a page out of Angel's book, and simply tries to "live" once in a while. Going back to my comment about believing episode 4 may subtly reflect what's going on whenever Alastor is absent.

I suspect that after an overlord meeting, he tries to go back to "familiar times" like drinking, dancing and occasionally sleeping with someone. I have an inkling that I'm not far off the mark because in episode 5, Alastor appears like he had a late morning/afternoon almost like if maybe he's coming up from a hangover/late night.

Like he just seemed so unaware that Luci was coming over the way he glares at the "Wellcum Daddy" banner like "Why wasn't I informed?" That's how out of it he was.

With Alastor being frustrated in ways more than one, especially due to his lack of freedom, it makes it worse when the most powerful being walks into Alastor's territory and immediately starts hugging Charlie in front of him.

The first time in the series we actually see Alastor touch Charlie (not including the pilot), he touches her shoulder, back and chin almost as if he's trying to "wipe off Luci's touch and scent" to replace it with his own. His claws are on her boob too when he first places his hand on her shouder.

Charlie's reaction to Alastor's hand on her shoulder is telling- it means that Alastor touching her up until that point was not a common everyday occurrence so I'm thinking that Alastor himself did not realize how much he liked Charlie until he started giving her compliments in front of her dad.

It started off as him trying to stake claim over Charlie/piss off Luci but every time he looked at Charlie as he praised her, his eyes were soft and full of sincerity. I think Alastor finally touching her onscreen opened the floodgates of his attraction to Charlie- literally can't stop touching her for the rest of the episode.

Then comes the scene where Alastor defends the hotel/devours the loan sharks, he says, "Oh, how I missed getting to let off steam!" While, yes, he misses the unbridled violence and chaos he used to cause, "letting off steam" does in some cases mean to let off frustration in a sexual way. For a character who is apparently not meant to be overtly sexual, he sure has quite a few innuendos in this first season.

In episode 7, Alastor is acting so comfortable on Charlie's bed. Why? Again, he's supposedly meant to be the least sexual character in the series. And yet he's rolling around on Charlie's bed (where she sleeps with Vaggie) like he owns it.

Notice he's even laying on Vaggie's side (trying to mark his scent to mask Vaggie's) and making "come and get it" poses on her bed. He only gets out of Charlie's bed/starts acting more seriously when she says, "I don't understand how you can enjoy everyone's suffering so much."

"Just because you see a smile, don't think you understand what's going on underneath." Alastor doesn't want Charlie to simply see him as a 2D villain. He actually cares what she thinks about him, and that's why he reveals that his smile is a power move that Charlie should use.

He both cares about her and desires her physically. Constantly grabbing Charlie's shoulders, touching her hair, pressing his face against hers. He's obsessed with her, and physically needs to be near her. That's probably why he didn't further try to take advantage of the situation.

At this point, Charlie was pretty much broken up with Vaggie so Alastor could've taken advantage of her vulnerability and given into his physical desires for her. The problem is as I mentioned, he cares about her and also serves a master so sleeping with Charlie would complicate matters.

If he ever wants to be free to desire or get what he wants in general, he'll need that deal with Charlie. Just the way Alastor looks at his hand after the deal is sealed between them(you can even see he briefly held Charlie's hand tighter for an instant before letting go), you can see how content he is almost as if he's half way to feeling the kind of satisfaction he wants.

The whole "good girl" scene seems to have subtext, especially because of Charlie's reaction to Alastor calling her a good girl and petting her. Why was she so shy all of a sudden? Alastor had just finished extorting a very vague deal from Charlie, and the aftermath is her being shy?

I have this theory that Charlie and Al didn't just make a deal- their minds melded together. This is shown when Charlie explained to Vaggie that angels can be killed, but when did Alastor tell her this? The two of them never once spoke during the entire making of the contract, which means Alastor fed Charlie the information telepathically. But did Charlie hear other kinds of thoughts from Alastor? Anything that would've had her reacting shyly to him only moments later? I'm betting on yes, yes she did.

Later in episode 7, we see Alastor link arms with Charlie and wearing a very serious expression when a male cannibal tries to greet them. Alastor did not so much as bat an eye at the "She's much too young for you" comment and just continues staring evenly at Charlie.

I love the look he gives her when he leans on Charlie's chair and says. "We're here on business of another kind." They look like a Queen with her advisor in this scene.

"She's filled with potential that I could guide." It's not just a physical desire he has for her or any order he's following from his master/manipulation. He wants her to reach her full potential with him at her side.

In episode 8, Alastor says this line. "You lack discipline, control and worst of all...you're sloppy." It's almost as if he's describing himself because these words seem like a foreshadowing for his defeat and also like a hint toward his sexuality- as in he doesn't want to be controlled by any desires he might have.

It's a paradox because while Alastor may not want to be ruled by love or desire, he's fascinated by it. This is noted during the "the last stand before the battle" party scene. "It's been a thrilling ride watching these wayward souls find connection." He doesn't seem to realize it but he's a romantic at heart, enjoying the development between Huskerdust and CherriSnake.

"One could almost get accustomed," he says as he stares directly at Charlie in a dreamy sort of way. This is probably one of the most sincere Alastor scenes we've seen so far.

During Alastor's finale song, he sings, "I'm hungry for freedom like never before." Like never before because he cares for and desires Charlie. This changes the game entirely and gives Alastor a stronger resolve to free himself.

He will still betray her and the Hazbin gang at some point. This is inevitable but love and lust complicate things for sure so it won't be as straightforward as Alastor laughing evilly while twirling his proverbial mustache. We'll be in for quite the ride that's for sure.

I love that that they hardly interacted in the season finale ep, and yet the animators were kind enough to feed us with the hug scene. For someone who hates touch, Alastor didn't seem to mind Charlie hugging him at all. I feel like Charie is his comfort person, and we'll get to see more of Al's obsessive love and lust for Charlie in season 2.