#like sure I have been sewing for the majority of my life and sure I’ve been working at a fabric store for 3 and a half years
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today i was offered a full time (if I want it to be) well paying seamstress job sewing pageant dresses and costumes for kids?? by a lady who I just happened to cut fabric for at work last week. she has a whole successful business running out of her house right now, but next month is expanding to a very nice big space downtown
#utterly bizarre#thank you universe#like sure I have been sewing for the majority of my life and sure I’ve been working at a fabric store for 3 and a half years#but i’ve never imagined myself actually working as a seamstress#mostly cuz I have had no idea how one even finds a seamstress job#apparently they come to you#my grandma sewed wedding dresses until she had kids and i always thought that that was so cool
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‧₊ ᵎᵎ ⋆ 🎃 ˚。⋆.ೃ࿔ Halloween HCs ‧₊ ᵎᵎ ⋆ 🎃 ˚。⋆.ೃ࿔
Warnings - Mentions of gore, Johnny’s headcanons are kind of sad tbh 😭, “laced” candy, mentions of Curtis’ deceased parents.
Author’s Note - These are miscellaneous headcanons!! I can’t bring myself to wait until Halloween to post this, so I’m doing it now! I’ve been in the fall mood for so long and this scratched my brain just right. I would kill to live in Tulsa around the holiday season in the 60s- like you guys don’t even understand. I hope you enjoy! 🐈⬛🍂
── ── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ── ──
The Curtis gang NEVER misses on Halloween, it’s their night.
I can definitely see Two-Bit going all out with his sister (I personally HC her to be younger, around 6 maybe), and decorating their porch all cutesy with jack-o-lanterns and fake spiderwebs. Two-Bit would probably take her trick or treating around 7-8 pm when it’s just getting dark. He’ll save the actual night for fun with the gang.
Soda and Ponyboy still go trick or treating even though most greasers see that as “little kid stuff” and stop around the age of 12. It’s like a tradition for them to go every year. Darry grew out of it before their parents had passed, but when they were still alive they sent him to drive Soda and Pony around town and help out with navigating the streets. He still does it to feel more at ease with them going out as well as reminiscing on past Halloweens. (This made me think of the annual ornament situation from S.E Hinton’s Christmas story 💔)
Darry always rummages through Soda and Ponyboy’s bags and picks out his favorites to smuggle from them, hoping they won’t notice. I just know he loves his chocolate bars - I’m talking Hershey’s bars and Milky Way bars.
I feel like Dally would be an even bigger asshole and blame it on Halloween.
Dally tricks, he doesn’t treat.
He’d also pull all sorts of pranks on people he knows just for kicks. He’d try and scare Tim or some shit by messing with his lights and causing loud banging sounds from outside. Tim obviously knows it’s Dally so he chooses to ignore him until he can’t take it anymore.
Steve’s favorite holiday growing up was always Halloween. He would always earn the title of best dressed for the costumes Mrs. Curtis would hand sew ☹️. She took pride in it too, she’d work super hard until he was satisfied with it. (I get superhero vibes from him, maybe even like a pirate 😭)
The Curtis household is THE hangout for trading candy (let’s be honest, when is it not?)
Johnny’s favorite holiday is Halloween because it’s one of the few major holidays that doesn’t require him to see families bonding all around him ☹️ (Also because he can roam the streets without being singled out for being a Greaser.)
I’m pretty sure (like 99% sure) it’s canon that Dally is afraid of spiders, so I think it’s safe to say he fucking HATES any of those life-sized spiders people put on their windows as decoration.
Johnny hates people dressed up as the dead, it’s just unsettling to him when people do that whole ‘fake axe in the head’ thing or plastic intestines (I hope you guys know what I mean, or else I sound like I’m literally insane.)
Halloween is Ponyboy’s second favorite holiday (besides Christmas) because he gets to dress up. I think this is so cute because I also headcanon him to do theater for school. 😭❤️ Costumes are very exciting for him because he’s so used to doing it for theater.
Darry loves to carve pumpkins with silly faces and put them out on their porch for the little kids when they stop by. I personally think he’d be so great with kids since he’s had the older brother role all his life.
Darry can’t STAND fruity and chewy candy.
Two-Bit was Mickey Mouse for Halloween when he was like five and it just stuck with him. 😭 I also feel like he could imitate Mickey’s voice so well that a little part of his inner child is screams every time he successfully does it without having a voice crack.
Cherry ironically hates cherry-flavored lollipops or chews even though everyone hands her that specific flavor to be funny. She thinks it tastes like medicine. (She likes the fruit though!)
Soda will gladly suck down the old grandma candy nobody likes. Those strawberry chews, butterscotch, off-brand candy corn - he’ll eat all of it.
Steve would totally try to make the DX all festive for Halloween and tell Soda “it’s for the kids” even though no kids willingly go to the GAS STATION unless their parents drag them along.
Ponyboy lovessss Halloween movies and usually wants to watch them with Johnny since he loves the horror portion of a ‘Halloween movie’. Johnny likes the thrill.
Two-Bit dresses up at school on Halloween. He doesn’t give a shit, it’s canon he just goes for kicks.
Johnny likes to hang with Dally and mess with people or play stupid pranks on them since he really doesn’t like the idea of trick-or-treating at sixteen.
Johnny grew out of trick-or-treating at a young age. He felt he was too mature for it since he was forced to toughen up as a kid due to his parent's constant abuse. Normal child activities feel foreign to him.
Halloween parties at Buck’s go CRAZY and Dally always looks forward to seeing those girls in skimpy ‘costumes’. (Very Mean Girls ‘Halloween rule’ inspired.)
Darry used to always be like a little photographer on Halloween eve and would take pictures of Soda and Pony and proudly show the pictures to their parents. “Pony, give me your pillowcase so i can take a photo… now hold your hat up… smile normally, not in character….perfect…”
“Careful, you gotta check that candy first, kid. people hide blades and stuff in candy,” while Two-Bit stabs Ponyboy’s candy bar with his switchblade and laughs his ass off.
I’m so ready for Halloween. I don’t care how old I get, I’ll always love dressing up and shit and just fall vibes in general. I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I did making it.
I LOVE YOU, THANK YOU FOR READING 💋
#the outsiders#the outsiders 1983#the outsiders imagine#headcanons#the outsiders hcs#the outsiders headcanons#the outsiders novel#the outsiders darry#the outsiders dally#the outsiders ponyboy#the outsiders dallas#the outsiders movie#the outsiders johnny#the outsiders sodapop#the outsiders two bit#the outsiders steve#the outsiders fanfiction#se hinton#the outsiders musical#the outsiders fandom#the outsiders fic#s e hinton#fan writing#greaser#pov#imagine#halloween#spooky season#happy halloweeeeeeen#this makes me so excited for fall
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Welcome to my
Cozy Lil Space!
My name is Sophie and I’m an age regressor who is about 6 years old little age, 31 years old big age 💜 I am both an agere and can also be a bit of a flip (have care giver energy).
I wanted a space to be my smol self, to feel little and cozy and safe to explore my age regression experiences. I feel very much like a lilgurl, while also being nonbinary/genderfluid. Bi/Pansexual&Polyamorous💜💖 I am physically disabled and I have ADHD-I, Major Depressive Disorder, Gen Anxiety with Panic Attacks, and PTSD. My age regression stems from/ is a way to cope with my reality (past and present), and is often involuntary for me. I am exploring this and trying to better understand myself to cope, feel safe, and just have fun being my authentic self 💜💖🩵
I have always felt like a child at heart, but was “advanced” in my early childhood; I started reading at 2 yo. I was reading and speaking at an adult level by the age of 6. But I also had to be taught not to baby talk by a speech therapist, I collect dolls and stuffies, and I adore all things cute and kid friendly. I’ve been told I dress childish, but I love the way I dress: EGL/Lolita style fashion plus cute, soft girl/boy vibes depending on how I’m feeling.
I feel an innocence in my soul that can only be soothed by letting the little self be seen and heard 💜
This is a space for me to explore, to learn more about the age regression I experience, involuntarily and voluntary. I am very open to learning from everyone here in the agere community, as I change, grow, and I learn who I am 💜💖🩵
On this blog I will:
Be 100% SFW and Child friendly content 😋💜🥰
Create mood boards 💜💖🩵
Reblog agere posts that I identify with
Share my own agere experiences and thoughts and experiences I am having
Talk to other age regressors and am open for asks 🤗
Create my own smol space or little space
Explore what works for me, what I identify with, what makes me feel safe, basically what age regression is for me 💜
Switch from big speak to little speak, as I have always been a baby nerd 🤓🤭
Be silly and serious! 😋😝😐😯🤓
And lastly (for now) I will post photos of myself that are edited and will be SFW of course. Please DNI with my photos in an inappropriate way. I am sharing how I feel through self portraits and photos of my life as an agere, so please respect my boundaries.
Speaking of Boundaries:
Please Do Not Interact (DNI) if: you are going to sexualize me, are a Kink blog, are going to DM me for those reasons, are NSFW, or are not kiddo friendly🫣🫢😑 This seems obvious to me, but also DNI if you are racist/ableist/homophobic/transphobic, hateful in any way, or just want to bully/be mean. I am a 100% Safe Space for Ageres of all ages, Big and Smol, so please keep this a safe space for me and anyone else who identifies with agere 💜 Again, DNI with me if it’s NSFW, not appropriate content! Thank you for respecting my boundaries, my safe space 💜
More about me:
I am an artist, a doll collector, love stuffed animals and toys. I adore dark academia aesthetic as well as soft, pink, pastel aesthetics as well. I will post moodboards bc I love to create visuals that show how I am feeling and what I love, as I love beauty and visual arts. I also customize dolls and fix toys, love to sew, and adore fashion, nail art, and all things pretty!
Cartoons are my favorite shows: Adventure Time is number one, but I also love Steven Universe, We Bare Bears, Craig of the Creek, The Amazing World of Gumball, and more!
I’m sure I will add more as it occurs to me, but that’s all for now! I know it’s long, sowwy! 🙈
Thank you for reading 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜
Now let’s have some fun!
Much love,
Sophie
#long post#cozylilgurl post#cozylilgurl#agere intro#sfw agere blog#age regressor#safe agere#agere little#sfw age regression#sfw little post#sfw littlespace#sfw little blog#sfw smolspace#sfw agedre#age re safe space
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Have you been to hospital about your injuries? They sound bad .:/ Anyways, I hope you feel better soon. 💐
Thanks so much!
Well, they really aren’t THAT bad. The stab wound did hit the bone, but where it didn’t have to go far. The wound isn’t too deep, or too big. It didn’t hit any major blood vessels or anything. The knife was incredibly sharp, and despite the fact I was cutting hose it was rather clean. I immediately washed it well and so forth. It all could have been much worse.
It’s healing up astonishingly fast, actually. It’s stopped bleeding and the inflammation has gone. I REALLY didn’t expect it to recover this fast. It’s not like when I slammed the car door on my finger back in September. I may have a little scar, but eh, it’s not like anyone cares.
As for a hospital, yeah, no. I’m not sure I’d even go to one if I was dying. I have no money. I have no insurance. There is no hospital in my county even if I wanted to go. I can’t imagine wanting to go after certain traumas I’ve endured a the hands of abusive healthcare professionals.
Without going into detail right now**, I vowed long, long ago to never allow myself to be at the lack of mercy found in the ego driven assholes that think bodily autonomy and emotional respect are thing they are exempt from by virtue of a job description. A doctor has to earn my respect and no way will I trust one just because they got some damn degree. Basically going to a doctor would feel like submitting to a rape (with good reason), and as soon as I was old enough to fight back I stopped going. I haven’t been to a doctor since the 1990s!
Look, I’ll sew up my own wounds and have even cut a growth out of my own skin with a razor blade rather than go to a doctor. I have had medical problems that I worried might actually be life threatening and absolutely someone sensible should go to a for. I didn’t.
Please don’t tell me all the medical stuff that could kill me. I am acutely aware. I even acknowledge that there must be good, kind, intelligent, and respectful healthcare professionals out there. (Never met one that was, but sure, they exist in fiction so why not) But for me the trauma would be a fate worse than death.
You might as well be telling be to stick my face in a box of angry rattlesnakes…..and I’d prefer the snakes because at least they wouldn’t expect your submission, gratitude, and payment for violating you!
Good think I’m incredibly tough, huh? LOL
Thank you for caring! I REALLY appreciate that.
**I tried to go to a therapist once over my intense phobia of those human monsters, and I got an interesting response when, to the screener, I started my long list of reasons for a an utter fear and mistrust of anyone calling themselves a doctor or nurse. Let’s just say I got a few wide eyed “OMG!”s and the suggestion that they should do a movie about me.
The therapist didn’t work out, partly because he had couldn’t get his head around my not being afraid of something stupid like a hypodermic but the human wielding it. Mostly it was my nature clashing with nature of therapists I guess. I tell you, the dude trying to control my word choice because of his assumptions about the baggage attached to the word made me want to punch his face in….and generally I’m not violent.
Still, the attempt did confirm a few things. I did have good reason to feel as I do. And I apparently do have serious PTSD from it all. Oh, and as an aside, I am “A VERY unusual person” (LOL) . None of that was news, but good to have it validated .
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What do you all want to do after hopes peak??
I haven’t really thought too much about it, but recently I’ve been thinking I want to be a teacher. I wanna go into Special Education, if I go into anything! - 🍀
I suppose I will continue my work as a homicide detective. - 🔎
I plan to take over for my father as head of the Togami Corporation once I turn eighteen. I will continue to do this until my own child is old enough to take on the responsibility. - 💰
I’ve had requests to join Olympic swimming teams in the past, so I think I’ll finally participate in a few years! - 🫧
I’m not really sure tbh. I know I want to keep being a fortune teller, but I might pick up astronomy? I don’t know, I just like the stars lol. - ⏳
I’m gonna be a writer. Obviously. - 🖋️
My singing career is what makes me the happiest!! I hope to keep performing with my friends forever!!! - 🌟
I don’t think I could live without my sewing machine honestly. I’ll be designing clothes until I finally bite the dust! - 💖
Housewife. I don’t want to fight for the rest of my life. - 🐇
I don’t have a clue lmao. - 🎸
I hope to keep working as a programmer! I’m actually planning on going to college and majoring in Artificial Intelligence! - 👾
I want to design and build shit. So, I guess I’m gonna be an architect/carpenter? - 💎
I’ve mentioned before that I plan to become Prime Minister of Japan! I believe all my hard work will pay off, and I’ll be able to make this country a better place for the ordinary people like myself! - 🎖️
Contrary to popular belief, fan fiction does pay! Perhaps I’ll even get a few of my works published! - 📖
Once I make enough money, I plan to buy a castle in the European countryside. The rest of my life will be lived in luxury. - 👑
I will become a teacher of martial arts. I plan to pass down the lessons I was taught by my sensei to the next generation of fighters. - 🌸
#ask the characters#danganronpa#trigger happy havoc#ask us anything#makoto naegi#kyoko kirigiri#byakuya togami#aoi asahina#yasuhiro hagakure#toko fukawa#sayaka maizono#junko enoshima#mukuro ikusaba#leon kuwata#chihiro fujisaki#mondo owada#kiyotaka ishimaru#hifumi yamada#celestia ludenberg#sakura ogami
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Hey all, sorry it has been a little bit. Just wanted to take a little time to breathe, say “hey, I’m not dead!”, and reflect upon the year.
Looking back on it, 2022 was, without a doubt, my most challenging year to date. I got covid (twice!), spent most of my year figuring out that whole self-employed thing, and faced my biggest adventure yet - moving across the country with two of my best friends.
I had lived in the same town (Bozeman, Montana) since I was born, and leaving it was quite scary. For two full months of 2022, I’d wake up, apply to multiple places a day, check my emails, make phone calls, go to bed, and repeat. I think I had applied to well over 100 different locations by the end of it. I was already pretty unhappy living in a state that didn’t suit me, and the dread of feeling like I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to ate me alive. Hell, we only got accepted to a place the day before our lease had to end. I don’t think I have ever been that stressed in my whole life, and I pray I never will be again.
And yet? I couldn’t be happier to have taken the plunge. California has so much more to offer me. I find great joy in the warmer weather, the diverse culture that surrounds me, and the accessibility of finding nearly anything I could ever want within an hour drive away (especially compared to the isolation of Montana). Sure, our apartment sucks, and there have been some major bumps in the road, but at the end of the day I’m truly glad that this new chapter in my life has begun.
I wish I had one of those fun “end of year art compilations” to share, but in all honesty I just… don’t have much from 2022. I couldn’t draw or sew while I was so ill with covid, and moving exerted all of my time and energy. I miss drawing and making as much as I used to, and it makes me quite depressed to think about how little I’ve done this year. I suppose I should be kinder to myself considering the hurdles I faced, but I can’t help but feel a fair bit of shame and embarrassment for not having more to show for it…
I’m still playing a bit of catch up with previous shop orders and commissions, so I hope I haven’t let you folks down. I’m working nearly every day to get back up to full speed, and will have more to show for it in due time. To those of you still waiting, thank you. Your patience means the world to me.
So, tl;dr, here’s to 2023. Please be gentler, 2023
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Hi!!!
Before I get to my request, congratulations on 1.5k! I’ve been following you for a few months now and everything that you put out is just insanely good, I always feel so immersed in your writing! You are seriously so so talented!!!
For your celebration, I wanted to do option two, please!! I would like either the Harry Potter fandom (either era) or the grishaverse, whichever one works better for you!! My pronouns are she/her and I am straight. I am about 5’3”, have collar bone length dirty blonde hair, solid cobalt blue eyes, and I am definitely more on the chubby side. Personality wise, I am very academic driven. I work hard for my grades and have always put a pressure on myself because of it. I come off as a shy person, but once you get to know me I am a total loudmouth and I will talk about the silliest topics. I love to banter. I’m quite insecure and can get embarrassed really easily, but it’s something I’m working on. I also am the oldest of 6 siblings and am the mom friend of my group. I have a soft spot for literally any animal or flower (it’s an issue). I get along with pretty much anyone I meet (I’m a people pleaser), but I keep a really close inner circle. Reading, music, and crafts are my favorite hobbies. I absolutely adore every genre of book. My current favorites are Little Women, Hunger Games, and Far From the Tree. I love figuring out plot twists in books/movies. I absolutely love horror movies, it’s a tradition in my family to watch a new one every weekend. Music has been a major part of my life for years, I play the alto saxophone and piano. My favorite artists are Taylor Swift, Noah Kahan, Hozier, Olivia Rodrigo, the Backseat Lovers, and Daisy Jones and the Six (I know they’re a fictional band, but their album is amazing). I love just about any craft I can get my hands on (jewelry making, sewing, painting, scrapbooking, etc).
I’m sorry for making this so long!! I’ve never done one of these and wasn’t sure how much information to put in them! Thank you for doing this!!!
hi! thank you so much for the kind words, i really appreciate it. i’m glad you’re enjoying my work, thank you for the support. and thank you for participating :)
since you gave me to fandoms, i’ll tell you who i ship you with from both, and then i’ll do the full thing for who i think you’re better suited for.
i ship you with james and matthias! i’m gonna go with james for this, hope that’s alright :)
james absolutely needs someone as good at banter as he is. that man can talk about anything and everything for hours, and he’d love having someone around that would listen to him and was genuinely interested in hearing what he’d have to say. he’d know that you would always be a shoulder he could lean on, and he’d be the same for you.
james would adore someone as dedicated but fun as you are. i don’t think james really has to try to do things well, he’s just naturally good at a lot of things. so he’d see the effort you put into yourself and into school, and he’d really admire your work ethic and how much you care. he would hate that you were negative about yourself, and he’d always know the right things to say to cheer you up and make you feel better. he would always see past ant flaw you had (or thought you had) and see the best parts of you. and he’d make sure to tell you how highly he thought of you. hed think you’re literally the coolest person ever with how artsy and musical you are, your hobbies involve a lot of skill and time. it takes a special kind of person to stick with it and enjoy it as much as you do. he’d see how sweet and caring you are. he’s got a big heart himself, so he’d find himself really drawn to you.
idk why but i feel like james would HATE horror movies. he loves adventure, but he’d see no point in intentionally scaring yourself. he’d be under the assumption that there were plenty of other things you could do to get your adrenaline pumping, and scaring yourself shitless wasn’t the way to do it. but, he’d do anything for you. and it was a good excuse to get close to you anyway.
—
he’d go into movie night with the intention of being your big protector. he’d put on a brave face when you chose the movie, huddling up next to you as you hit play. and just as the first jump scare happened, he’d flinch and reach out to grab your hand.
you’d smirk, raising a brow. “you alright?”
“yeah, yeah,” he’d clear his throat, letting you go as he took a breath. “just didn’t expect that. i’m good.”
you’d smile to yourself as you turned back to the movie, knowing there was a lot more left—and a lot more scares. the movie would continue, and james would keep inching closer as it went on. by the end, he was halfway in your lap, hiding his face in your shoulder. the second the credits rolled, you couldn’t help but chuckle, turning to look at him.
“love, that was horrible!” he whined, not even pretending to act unphased.
you’d smile, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “you were very brave, james. you only broke a knuckle or two squeezing my hand that hard.”
“oh, piss off!” he’d say, but he was chuckling too. “i’m picking the movie next time. none of that blood and demons and shit. something funny, yeah?”
you’d nod, trying and failing to hide your smirk as you reached up to brush his hair out of his face that he’d messed up from the sheer amount of times he’d jumped and hid his face as he clung to you.
“yeah. something that’ll give my hand a break.”
—
thanks again for participating! i hope you liked this :)
#harry potter#followers celebration#marauders#james potter#1.5k followers celebration#1.5k followers#1500 followers
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The Massive Aggression of Calico Jack, redux
Several kind souls have complained brought it to my attention that my failure to use cut tags is, in fact, not optimal. I don't have any good reason that I don't use cuts - mostly I'm just throwing these thoughts out here so they don't endlessly rattle around my brain. Frankly, I'm endlessly astonished anyone but me can be arsed to bother wading through them at all. So, after a truly epic tantrum thoughtful consideration, I've decided to edit my longer posts to add cuts. If you've already read them, (may endless blessings rain down upon you) there's no new content (vile lies and calumny. I'm going to take this opportunity to fix errors and add a line here or there, but nothing major). Just making it more scroll-friendly. You'll know it when you see the word "redux" in the title. So without further ado...
I’ve been trying for a while to put my finger on exactly what it is about Our Flag Means Death's Calico Jack that makes me want to crawl out of my skin and smother him to death with my own abandoned ecdysis.
I mean, I normally love me a spurned admirer/cock-blocking ex. Romantic comedies have their beats, and there’s obviously no serious danger the love interest will end up with anyone other than their intended, so I may as well sit back and enjoy the machinations. After all, the course of true love never did run smooth, and these bitches are here to rough some shit up for sure. I also love Will Arnett. Hands down favorite recurring character on 30 Rock. The second best Batman after TAS (fight me). I can even cheerfully bear his Reese’s commercials if I must bear commercials at all.
Real-life Calico Jack? One of my v. favorite pirates. He wore floral-printed cotton from India as a fuck you to the British tax man. He had an affair with Anne Bonny and offered to purchase her divorce when her husband found out. The two ran away together into piracy when Bonny’s husband refused to quit her and had her whipped for her infidelity. Mary Read was part of Jack and Anne’s crew, and possibly their lover. We love a hopeless romantic, possibly polyamorous king.
So what is it about OFMD Calico Jack that makes him so acutely punchable?
I’ve rewatched the episode several times (oh my v. dears, I really hope this write-up is worth it. I am SO BRAVE to subject myself to this), and I think I’ve finally got it. It’s not just that he’s a loud, vulgar, hectoring, drunken jackass of a bird-murderer. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have as little patience for his brand of mindless destruction and violence-for-violence-sake as Stede does, but that’s not all. It’s that he’s also a master of passive aggression.
Jack does the little whisper-y “Sorry! Sorry!” when Stede wants to know what’s with all the cannon fire, but immediately starts grinning like an unrepentant varlet as soon as he drops his hands.
And then accepts Stede’s introductory handshake with clear derision.
When Stede says he wasn’t expecting guests and there’s only two settings at brekkie, Jack doesn’t wait for Stede to sort things out, and he’s already lowering himself into Stede’s chair by the time Stede invites him to take his spot. He then purposefully keeps steering the conversation to topics that exclude Stede from participating, and cuts Stede short when he tries to reign the conversation back.
He insinuates Stede is less of a pirate for being “store bought”
He refuses to get Stede’s name right, even when corrected. Twice.
And is just SO insincere when calling him back.
And, just, the whole pissing contest scene.
But so what? We’ve had other passive aggressive assholes on the show; Badminton with his cracks about Stede’s tiny dick ship, the French captain’s slurs, Gabriel simpering about Jeff the Accountant’s dining manners. I’m not shedding any tears for their respective fates, but none of them made me want to crawl through the screen and sew all their face holes shut. Because Jack isn’t just passive-aggressive (and aggressive-aggressive), he might just be the most savvy reader-of-rooms we see on the show, and purposefully and systematically leverages his passive aggression to manipulate the actions of those around him for the purpose of making Ed and Stede betray their better selves and make them do the work of driving a wedge between themselves. That was a lot in one sentence. Let me break it down.
Jack uses passive aggression to achieve one of four goals: to nettle, to undermine, (seemingly paradoxically) to reinforce connections, or to coerce. And, if he can manage to achieve different goals for more than one target with the same attack? So much the better. And he’s frankly just astonishingly good at doing so. Like, I’d admire him for it if it didn’t also make me want to make him swallow all of his own teeth.
The basic gameplan goes thusly (this is not a strictly chronological list, a lot of these tactics take place concurrently and recurrently): Stede is the primary target, so Jack nettles him with passive aggressive comments, which puts him on the back foot and undermines his self-confidence. He reinforces his relationship with Ed in ways that excludes Stede and undermines Stede’s relationship with Ed and Ed’s relationship with Stede. Jack uses coercive tactics with Ed and the crew, which undermines Stede’s relationships with them, isolating and othering Stede, which further tanks his mood, which leads him to self-isolate. When Stede eventually lashes out at Ed for falling for Jack’s bullshit, Ed has no idea what’s got Stede so out-of-sorts; Jack has so carefully lead Ed to making the choices that have alienated Stede that they seem like they were Ed’s ideas in the first place. And if Ed has made the choices to do these things, then they are clearly just a reflection of who he is, which, if Stede is lashing out against them, then Stede is rejecting him. Wedge set and match.
So let’s look at the specifics.
Jack’s interactions with Ed are like a masterclass in neurolinguistic programming for evil. First, he plys Ed with booze from the very start. Just look at the bottle in this shot from right after they blow up the dresser drawer.
That bottle or rum is over half gone, and the sky in the background is the peachy-pink of sunrise. This isn’t the bottle Jack had with him in his dinghy; that one he drained and then threw in the air and tried to shoot before coming aboard the Revenge. Which means that they’ve consumed over half the bottle between just the two of them in a very short amount of time. Alcohol, of course, is a social lubricant - the physical warmth it produces mimicking the “warm, fuzzy” feeling of true comradery, and, more importantly, decoupling the decision-making process from inhibition (that is to say, Ed isn’t necessarily doing anything he absolutely wouldn’t otherwise do, but he might otherwise think twice).
But it’s more insidious than just having a few drinks with an old friend. Jack specifically gamifies the consumption of alcohol to reinforce the coupling of the feeling of inebriation with the comradery engendered by teamwork and excitement of success in order to encourage Ed to drink more than he necessarily otherwise would. Ed confirms to Stede during his apology that the idea to use the drawers of the armoire for target practice came from Jack, and we saw that a bullseye meant that Jack had to take a drink, but Ed didn’t. Presumably, there would have been some consequence for a “miss”, and it seems likely that it would be Ed has to take a drink and not Jack. In this way, Jack is able to exert a measure of control over how much Ed is drinking (by missing on purpose) while making it look like the responsibility lies with Ed and his skill as a thrower. This pattern of sneakily controlling Ed’s actions while making it seem like Ed is the one who made or is responsible for the decision will pop up again and again during their interactions.
After the apologies for waking Stede, Jack steps into the space where Ed is gesticulating to make himself readily available to be touched, reenforcing the bond between them, but letting Ed be the one to instigate the touching.
At brekkie, he pours rum into Ed’s teacup without asking or being asked while Ed’s attention is diverted by getting food.
Jack’s collaring of the conversation does not just function as a means of making Stede feel excluded, he’s also refreshing and reinforcing the bonds he and Ed forged under adversity. Talking over Stede also demonstrates that what he has to say is more important than anything Stede might contribute.
Note that just before Jack cut him off, Stede had referred to Ed as Blackbeard (“Blackbeard and I met on a ship”). This may be innocently explained away; if you meet a person from a facet of a close friend’s life with which you do not intersect, you might refer to said friend by their given name instead of a nickname that the other person might not know, for the sake of common frame of reference. But this is the opposite of that - referring to a friend by a nickname instead of the given name that you both presumably know. That suggests to me that the seed of the Ed/Blackbeard dichotomy has already been planted in Stede’s mind by the morning’s shenanigans. And when Jack invites Stede back into participating in the conversation by talking about something he knows Stede would find upsetting (the wanton cruelty of Ed purposefully trapping people to be burned alive, couched in what sounds like sincere admiration for his friend’s piratical prowess), Jack has picked up on that distinction and is leaning into it HARD. He WANTS Stede to see Ed as a collection of behaviors he finds palatable, and Blackbeard as a collection of behaviors he finds repulsive, and then coerce Ed into performing those “Blackbeard behaviors” in order to coerce Stede to drive the wedge by rejecting him. Fucking diabolical.
When Jack is calling Stede a “big girl,” or “store-bought,” or purposefully getting his name wrong, he’s not just throwing barbs that play on Stede’s insecurities (and with such harrowing precision, too; calling on the effeminacy for which he was tormented as a child, his body image issues that we’ve also seen him struggle with under the tender mercies of Badminton - both brain-ghost and original flavor - and the authenticity of his claim to piracy, which we’ve seen him confess that he fears he’s ill-qualified to claim to Jim, Oluande, and Ed. I mean,triple bullseye for this fucking guy). He’s also using these public declarations to undermine Stede’s authority in front of his crew, and establish himself as the real authority on things like piracy and masculinity. He further reinforces this idea by withholding the story of how he saved Ed’s life under the guise of false modesty; people never want something more than when they’re told they can’t have it. And what they’re being told they can’t have is the story of how Jack was so amazing that he even managed to save the life of the coolest, most legendary pirate they know. This withholding primes the crew to think even more highly of Jack and hang on his every word.
This puts Jack into a position where he can pressure the crew into things that sound fun at first blush (like diving off the yardarm or having a snowball fight, but with coconuts), but end up hurting more than anything. Of course, within this dynamic, no one wants to admit they aren’t having a good time, or don’t want to do it; to do so would be tantamount to admitting you are less of a man or not a real pirate. So when Stede refuses to participate, or admits his discomfort or disgust with the proceedings, he’s doing Jack’s work for him, and further alienating himself, and solidifying the roles Jack had put into place where Jack is the fun, cool guy, and Stede is the killjoy that no one should listen to.
Stede unwittingly plays right into Jack’s design when he tries to stand up for himself and wrest back a modicum of respect before things get too far out of hand. He’s well-versed in the world of passive aggression, and sees what Jack is doing. He also knows that you can’t call it out because passive aggression comes with a built in cover of plausible deniability gaslighting. So instead, he tries to push back with a little passive aggression of his own, suggesting that a real pirate has a ship and a crew. Sadly, Stede is not nearly so adroit at wielding passive aggression as Jack is. Jack uses the story (and we know that Izzy sent him, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole mutiny thing is just a story; I could even easily read that slight hesitation after Stede asks his question as Jack deciding on what would be the most effective cover story, instead of hesitancy to admit to something shameful) of his crew’s mutiny to casually re-sow the idea of mutiny on the Revenge. It’s played for comedy when the crew starts talking about how they almost mutinied on Stede and probably will again, but you can’t tell me this hasn’t been a major concern for Stede ever since the first episode. So Jack’s not only got the crew trying to buoy his spirits by assuring him that his crew mutinying on his doesn’t mean he’s a bad person; it’s just something that happens! He’s also got them low-key committing to a future mutiny WITHIN EARSHOT OF STEDE.
Additionally, while Stede is well-steeped in the ways of passive aggression, his crew and Ed are not. They are not particularly sophisticated at identifying passive aggression on its own merits as opposed to the reaction it provokes, which can make it look like they don’t care when it’s being leveraged against Stede, undermining his ability to trust they will look out for him. Stede stoically putting up with Jack’s jibes makes them even more difficult to identify as hurtful. Jack’s (fake) emotional reaction to Stede’s sally might make him look momentarily weak, but allows Ed and the crew to unequivocally identify who is in the wrong and react accordingly. By positioning himself as a victim, he villainizes Stede, further undermining Stede’s authority, and placing him in a position where he owes Jack recompense. Thus, Jack is able to manipulate Stede into the trap of Dead Man’s Cove and make it look like it was Stede’s own idea. I mean, the Xanatos Speed Chess of it all.
What’s heartbreaking to me is how Jack’s wedge-driving and othering of Stede is working so well that at this point we start to hear it from other sources. As they approach the island and Stede suggests going for a swim or taking a nature walk, Ed is the one who tells him, “I think with this crowd, I think they want something a little more…” Not Jack would want something more exciting, this crowd. Jack’s exclusionary rhetoric out of Ed’s mouth.
Which is exactly the time Jack decides to up the ante.
I want to take a minute to look at the immediate lead up to yardies, because I think it’s an excellent illustration of how Jack looks like a lumbering boor, but his actions are actually so carefully considered and nuanced. He runs up from behind Stede and Ed and throws his arms around them shouting “Yardies!” literally insinuating himself between them, which interrupts anything that was going on between them, puts them off balance, and focuses the attention on him. Then, when he says “Who’s up for yardies?” he makes eye-contact with Ed - the implicit social expectation being “You, Ed, are up for yardies.” When he turns to Stede, it is to literally laugh in his face. I mean, the absolute cheek.
Until this point, the crew of the Revenge have been passive participants in Jack’s hooliganry. They watched him perform whippies, and got whipped at without encouraging him to do so. They listened to his and Ed’s stories. But now Jack is cashing in on his established expertise of what real pirates do to coerce the crew into taking part in a dangerous stunt. It’s more of the “Blackbeard behavior” dichotomy he started sowing in Stede’s mind at brekkie, but now he’s extending it beyond Ed to the whole crew. He wants Stede to feel like he’s all alone in a sea of idiocy, but he wants him to come to the conclusion on his own by making it seem like Ed and the crew are doing things of which he would disapprove of their own accord.
Once we get to the island, we see the activities take a turn from the careless Jackass-ery of whippies and yardies to the abject cruelty of turtle vs. crab. There’s no saying that Jack organized the fight, but we do see the crew handing him various trinkets to be used in gambling on a winner, which certainly suggests he was the central figure in how the game was established. We also see that, though he has been presenting himself as a drunkard, there’s no bottle in his hand or around him in the sand. There is, however, one in Ed’s hand, who is directly to his side. I can easily see him handing it off so he could handle the gambling stakes, the real intention being to keep Ed readily supplied with booze.
And then we have the pissing contest. Jack’s got Stede literally and metaphorically isolated, and now it’s time to really drive it all home. Every moment of their interaction is designed to drive Stede to distraction; the amount of derision he lays on the phrase “Your good, close buddy,” the insinuation that he and Ed are just alike, and then being as rude and crass as possible. And because he’s read the room - the intimate breakfast for two, Ed’s little touches and the way Stede smiles at them, the way they keep going off together for little chats - of course Jack’s just got to twist the knife and allude to his and Ed’s former sexual history. So now that he’s got Stede primed, it’s time to name the fear: “Maybe you don’t know him at all.”
At this point, Stede is left to wonder: does he? Blackbeard’s reputation preceded him, after all. And he’s been acting so differently since the appearance of one of his oldest friends. It’s not the violence qua violence, per se; Stede is by turns delighted and impressed by the violence he’s seen Ed and his crew employ in the heat of battle in the pursuit of piracy. It’s the cruel and senseless violence that Stede objects to, and that’s exactly the brand that Jack has been peddling, and which Ed has gone along with so enthusiastically. And it’s not JUST the violence; Ed apologizes for Jack when he recognizes Jack has crossed a line in a typically agro way (destroying Stede’s belongings, and insulting Stede to his face), but it never occurs to Stede that his insistence on persevering with quietly aggrieved dignity in the face of Jack’s slights would make it nigh impossible for Ed to identify that Jack has crossed all sorts of other lines, and Stede is hurting because of it. For Stede, it must be frustrating and mystifying why Ed keeps letting his friend get away with his passive aggressive bullshit. Doesn’t he care?
Is it any wonder that one more failure to notice how Jack has riled him, and one more act of coconut-flavored Jackass-ary is enough to break the dam, and for Stede to spill all that built-up hurt on Ed? Is it any wonder that Ed is bewildered at where all this is coming from? I’ve talked before about Ed’s tendency to fawn on people, and how, as an emotional chameleon, he would have difficulty identifying when the motivation for his actions is self-directed or externally dictated. Jack has further confounded this distinction by manipulating scenarios to make it seem like participation in all the Jackass-ary he has instigated was voluntary instead of coerced. When Stede says “I don’t like who you are around this guy” what he means is “I don’t like how this guy is able to manipulate you into acting on your very worst impulses”, but what Ed hears is “I don’t like you”. For who is he, if not the collection of behaviors he chooses to exhibit? And were those choices not entirely his to make? With the rift clearly established, if in its infancy, of course Jack is going to do everything he can to foster its growth. So again, he interrupts Stede, again implicitly signaling that Ed should pay attention to what he says and not Stede. By lobbing the coconut at Ed at that moment, he forestalls any possible clearing of the air between Ed and Stede, and causes Ed to literally turn his back on Stede, in the way Ed feels Stede has emotionally turned his back on him just moments earlier. Jack reinforces this idea of turning his back on Stede again moments later when he says “Don’t go!” and immediately turns Ed around by the shoulders.
I know that I’ve been laying it on a bit thick and prolly sound like the written embodiment of the red string conspiracy meme, but I’m about to get a whole lot worse, and I’m going to ask you to stick with me, oh my v. dears. I think Jack killed Karl on purpose.
I know, I know. It was an accident! He was flailing drunkenly! But was he?
Have we seen him take so much as a single drink since the cannon fire at the beginning of the episode? Even though he’d been drinking earlier, did he not have devastating precision and accuracy when he first demonstrated Whippies - shattering every glass, snapping the cards from the Swede’s fingers, and ball-tapping Ed without permanently maiming him or even splitting the leather of his pants? In fact, while nearly every other crew member on the deck has a bottle in hand, just like on the beach, Jack does not.
Jack knows he has to get Ed off the ship before the British show up, but he can’t just say “Let’s ditch these losers” and expect Ed to agree, especially since he’s spent most of the day roping the crew into his schemes. The most effective way to get Ed to follow is if Jack is rejected for just being himself and doing what he does, just like Ed feels he was earlier by Stede. I think the original plan was to goad Olu into seriously hurting the Swede, the fallout of which would be recriminations that Jack made them do it, and Jack getting aggrieved that he was just trying to show this ungrateful lot how to have a good time, skulking off and leading Ed to follow him and reassure him that he’s really a good guy - how could he have known it would turn out like that? But when Buttons calls a halt to the proceedings and it looks like everyone is going to pack it in, Jack has to think fast. If HE maims a crew mate, that would be a bridge too far, painting him as the bad guy. But Karl? He’s just a bird. And if Jack can get a little revenge on the weird bird guy who made him change his plan, so much the better. AND, as people with far fewer auditory processing issues than I have pointed out, Jack mutters that he expected there to be more feathers. Could the evidence be any more damning?
Of course the whole ship turns on him, and then here’s Stede to order him off, explicitly rejecting him the way he metaphorically rejected Ed. But when even that isn’t enough to get Ed to follow him, Jack pulls out one last, desperate manipulation - the debt of life.
Jack’s tragic flaw is that he can’t turn it off. Once he and Ed are alone, he turns his passive aggressive assault on Ed, pressuring him into drinking the morning away by sarcastically saying he didn’t know he had an audience with the pope when Ed expresses disinterest, and, ultimately, giving up the game when he mentions with casual derision how he’d heard of Ed shaking up with Stede, and then deriding Ed for his failure to spot Jack’s machinations.
Too bad Jack didn’t know that the punishment for passive-aggressive fuckery on this show is death…
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Tempered Glass: Chapter 7
Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, cursing, pining, Din in suspenders, fluff Summary: Din takes a job with his old crew, and you and the kid wait for him on Arvala-7. Notes: Sorry this took me forever!
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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian
After you left the atmosphere of Tatooine and jumped into hyperspace, Din swiveled his chair around to face you in the copilot’s seat.
“I should take a job. Everything we made went to Peli, and I don’t like being low on credits. There’s a crew I used to run with...I can reach out to them...” he hesitated then added, “but you and the kid can’t come with me.”
“What do you mean I can’t come with you?”
He sighed, shoulders dropping. “I mean, I don’t trust them enough for you and the kid to come.”
“If you don’t trust them, wouldn’t it be better to have backup?”
“I just—,” he looked away, “I don’t want them to know either of you exist.”
“If you don’t trust them, should you be taking a job with them?”
“We don’t have a lot of options.”
“I could get work somewhere. We could go somewhere safe enough for a few weeks. There are some places where I have contacts, and non-bounty hunting work is usually less conspicuous.”
“I don’t think we should stay anywhere that long right now.”
“But—”
“I’ll feel better if you and the kid are safe together.”
“I—”
When he bowed his head in a silent appeal, your determination crumbled.
“Ugh, fine.”
He sighed in relief, reaching out to rest his hand on your knee briefly. His touch was reassuring.
“But, just so you know, this is only going to work once, so don’t think that my staying back with the kid is going to be a regular thing.”
He removed his hand and turned back around to face the viewport.
“I am taking your silence as tacit agreement,” you said to the back of his helmet.
He chose to ignore that, fiddling with the controls instead.
***
Now that you’d both admitted you wanted to stay together, abandoning the pretense of strategy and convenience all together, things were a little off between you and Din. Neither of you were used to being vulnerable, so conversations were slightly stunted again. You found yourself being overly polite, and Din was doing the same.
That first night back on the Crest, he offered you his bunk.
“I’m not taking your bed. You need it to take off your helmet.”
Besides the unshakable lingering chill of the hull, sleeping there wasn’t that bad. You usually slept with every sweater you owned on and that kept you warm enough.
“Use it when I’m not. You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor.”
“Sure, thanks,” you agreed, knowing you’d never take him up on that. You didn’t want to be on a different sleep schedule than he and the kid.
You did try to nap with the kid in Din’s bunk the next day because there wasn’t all that much to do in hyperspace. As soon as you lay down, though, you knew it was a mistake. First of all, it was crazy uncomfortable (somehow not better than the literal floor and the close walls made it slightly claustrophobic), and second—and far more importantly—it smelled overwhelmingly like Din. It smelled like his pine-y soap and beskar and blaster residue and leather and whatever else made up his infuriatingly good scent. It conjured images of crackling fires and golden skin and warm embraces and taut muscles.
Shit.
There was no chance you were going to be able to fall sleep when all you could think about was him.
The kid, on the other hand, was snoozing contentedly beside you. When you’d fully given up on napping, you edged your way out the bunk carefully, doing your best not to wake him.
Din was sitting in the hull on a long crate against the wall, cleaning his blaster, the pieces spread out next to him. Usually, when you were in the hull at the same time, you’d find a place across from him. Instead, you purposefully sat next to him, drawing your knees up to your chest and leaning against the wall.
You decided you were going to push through this awkward phase and make things not weird right there, right then. And you were going to do that the best way you knew how.
He tilted his helmet toward you momentarily then refocused on the blaster in his hand.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes,” he said, running a rag along the barrel.
“How does one develop a catchphrase? Does it happen organically or is there an iterative brainstorming process?”
Din paused, sighing dramatically, set his blaster and the rag down next to him, and pushed himself back until he was also leaning against the metal wall. His helmet clunked slightly as he relaxed it back. “This is the way is not a catchphrase. It’s a tenet of the Creed.”
“And ‘I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold’ is also a tenet of the Creed?”
He lolled his helmet to the side, looking down at you. “Okay, fine, that one isn’t,” he conceded.
“So you admit it—you have at least one catchphrase that you regularly use on bounties.” You smirked up at him.
Without missing a beat, Din fixed you with that unreadable visor and quipped: “I’ve been told I have a sexy voice. I’m just giving the people what they want.”
Your jaw dropped, a shocked laugh echoing through the hull. You had planned on teasing him and had not expected him to turn it around on you so smoothly.
“Uh... I was sort of hoping we’d stick to our unspoken agreement to not bring up the stupid things I said when I was drunk.” You looked down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.
“Oh, definitely not.”
You looked back up. “Alright, well then in the name of fairness, we’re going to have to get you really drunk the next time the opportunity presents itself, so we can see what embarrassing things you say.”
He paused for a moment, considering, then said, “Does that mean you’ll carry me home?”
You cracked a smile, nodding vigorously. “Of course. That would only be fair.”
A warm laugh rasped through the modulator. You crossed your ankles in front of you, letting your knee rest against the cold beskar on this thigh.
“I feel skeptical of that promise.” He dropped a gloved hand to your knee.
“Okay, okay I can’t promise to carry you home, but I can promise to tie your shoe if needed.”
“My boots don’t have laces.” He lifted a foot off the ground to show you.
You shrugged playfully: “Well, that’s not my fault.”
“This doesn’t sound like a very good deal for me. I tied your shoe and carried you home.”
“To be fair, both were against my will.”
“But necessary.”
You rolled your eyes at him. “Okay, okay, I can’t carry you, and I can’t tie your shoe... so I’ll...,” you bit your lip as you fished around for something else to offer, “...hold your hand? And not let anyone tickle you.”
He huffed and rubbed his thumb over your knee: “I’m not ticklish.”
You pursed your lips. “Right, sure, of course not. My mistake.”
He harrumphed. “Can I ask you something now?”
“I’ll allow it,” you intoned seriously.
“Where are you actually from?”
“Naboo. Most of my back story was true—I just left out the one major detail.”
“Your favorite color?” he deadpanned.
You laughed. “Yes, exactly. What about you? Where are you from?”
“Aq Vetina.”
You waited, hoping he’d elaborate.
“When my parents died there, I was rescued by the Mandalorians and raised in the Fighting Corps.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, placing your hand over his and squeezing gently. “That sounds like a tough life for a child.”
“It was all I knew,” he explained, shifting slightly.
“Still, that can’t have been easy. It makes sense that you couldn’t leave the kid.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly, solemnly. There was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there moments ago.
“Less serious question,” you replied, changing the subject to something lighter.
“Okay.” He relaxed a little.
“Why don’t you ever use a straw to drink with your helmet on?”
“These are the things you think about?” he laughed. His laugh was usually a quiet, muffled sound through the modulator, but it was getting easier to pick up on it. “There’s a seal on the helmet, otherwise the filters wouldn’t work,” he tapped the release on the side of his head. “So a straw isn’t a possibility, unfortunately.”
“Mmm,” you responded, “that is disappointing.”
He gripped your thigh lightly, turning toward you. “I, uh, heard back about the job... while you were asleep. It’s a go.”
“Ah... great. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t hear back.”
“I know. It will be fine.”
“Okay... So, any ideas for where the kid and I should stay?”
To your surprise, Din explained that he had a trusted friend on Arvala-7. When you agreed to the plan, he disappeared to the cockpit to set the nav—a two-day trip.
***
That same evening, you discovered a new favorite activity on the Crest. Before bed, the kid was being particularly fussy, so you pulled out your data pad and downloaded the first children’s book you could find. It worked liked a charm.
From then on, it became a daily routine: you’d read to him until his eyelids drooped before his nap and before bedtime. Regardless of his mood, listening to you read seemed to soothe him. You’d pull him into your lap and settle onto your stack of blankets against the wall. He’d watch your face, enraptured, as you relayed story after story to him. His favorite—the story that elicited the most chirps and grabby motions and ear wiggles—centered on a family of frogs. You revisited that one at least once a day, sometimes more if he was grouchy.
You weren’t sure how to feel about his hyperfixation on that particular story given his appetite for frogs.
At this rate, your digital library was going to be largely children’s books. You didn’t mind.
You noticed that Din would find something to do in the hull while you read. The first couple times, he sat and cleaned one of his many weapons or sewed a hole in his flight suit. Very quickly, he stopped bothering with an ostensible task and would just sit and listen.
When you were still 15 hours out from Arvala-7, Din was seated on his usual crate in the hull, the one next to the weapons cabinet, as you finished the final page of a particularly thrilling story about a snail. The kid was snoring softly in your arms, so you clicked off your datapad, and got up to settle him in his hammock for his mid-day nap.
“You’re good with him.” Din was leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
“I guess,” you shrugged, snapping the door to Din’s bunk shut and turning back to him. “I just think about what I liked as a kid. I loved when my parents would read to me.”
He nodded, helmet trained on the floor between his boots.
“I’m sorry—” you started, realizing how that must have sounded to Din.
He looked up and cut you off. “Don’t be. It’s nice for him to have some normal kid experiences.”
“You know what he’d really love?”
“What?”
“If you read to him.”
He dipped his helmet slightly in acknowledgement, rolling his shoulders back at the same time like he was uncomfortable agreeing with that.
Several hours later, you pulled Din down next to you in your normal pre-bedtime story time spot. He had the kid in his arms. You switched on your datapad and toggled through the catalog of books you’d downloaded, all of which had colorful covers and silly, whimsical titles, until you found the frog book.
“Here,” you offered, passing it over to him.
You leaned your head back against the wall and closed your eyes, listening to Din’s serious, even voice narrate the heartwarming hijinks of a family of frogs. The kid cooed and babbled along.
To your (and the kid’s) utter delight, Din’s rendition slowly evolved into a full-on dramatic reading, complete with sound effects and slightly different voices for each character, as he leaned into whatever prompted the most enthusiastic responses from the kid. You kept your eyes closed and said nothing, worried that if you drew attention to this new development, he’d get self-conscious and stop. You couldn’t help from smiling a little though.
When the story came to its conclusion, you opened your eyes. Din was scrolling through the library of options, browsing for the next book. “What do you think? Which one next?” You looked at him, but he wasn’t asking you. The kid let out a string of gibberish, pointing with a teeny finger. Din read out the titles of several options, selecting the one that triggered the most animated trill.
As Din began the story, he shifted until his body was flush with yours. The places where his beskar made contact with you were cold, even through the fabric of your clothes, but you didn’t mind.
By the time Din finished the second book, the kid was displaying the telltale signs—drooping ears and unfocused eyes—that bedtime had arrived.
Din handed you the datapad and stood to tuck the kid into bed.
As he shut the door to his bunk, you said, “I think you just put me out of a job.”
He scoffed, but you could tell he was pleased.
***
As you got more comfortable around each other, Din took to walking around without his armor—beside his helmet—on. Most of the time, he’d even leave his gloves off. He wore either a flight suit that zipped up the middle or a black shirt and pants...with suspenders. The first few times, it was jarring to see him like that, without his armor. He looked wrong. It was like seeing a turtle without its shell... but if turtles were sexy.
The first time he emerged from his bunk with the suspenders hanging loosely by his sides, you stopped dead, mouth hanging open. He tilted his helmet sharply at you: “What?”
“You sometimes wear suspenders under your armor?”
“...Yes?”
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you and the goofy grin that spread across your face.
“What?” he prompted again, shoulders pulling up toward his neck.
“I just really wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed.
“What were you expecting?” The playful note in his voice left you flustered. He took a step closer, much more relaxed now that he was the one doing the teasing. He was getting too good at flipping things on you.
Instead of answering—because you were not about to address the fact that you had absolutely thought about what he wore under his armor—you strode up to him and pulled the suspenders over his shoulders. He stood uncomfortably still, arms hanging awkwardly by his sides.
“What are you doing?” He looked down at his shirt then back up at you.
“I just want to get the full picture.” You looked him up and down.
“Thought about this a lot, have you?” He quirked his helmet down at you suggestively. It was only the second time you’d gotten that particular flavor of head tilt, and you...didn’t hate it. It made your neck feel hot. You disregarded the intense desire to grab him by the suspenders and jerk him toward you.
Instead, you narrowed your eyes at him, enjoying this new bold flirtation. Without looking away from his visor, you hooked a finger through one of the suspenders and pulled it out a couple inches, letting it snap back against him.
“Ow.” He stated it so matter-of-factly that it obviously hadn’t hurt, but for dramatic effect, he rubbed the spot on his chest where it hit him.
“You’ll survive,” you assured him, patting his shoulder and brushing past him to climb the ladder to the cockpit. When you sat down in the pilot’s seat and kicked your feet up to rest on the console, you still had a smile on your face.
***
A few hours later, you were seated in the copilot seat with the child held tightly in your lap as the Razor Crest descended through the atmosphere of Arvala-7. On the way, Din shared how he’d met this friend—he had helped Din when he was originally tracking down the child months ago.
However, when you asked what his friend’s name was, Din said he didn’t know. Honestly, you weren’t even that surprised. Just exasperated.
Din told you the details of when he tracked down the child, including the assassin droid he'd crossed paths with. He explained how he’d teamed up with IG-11, but in the end, he had to destroy the droid to protect the kid. The anger in his voice was raw when he described watching IG-11 point his blaster at the child.
As the dusty, cracked surface of the planet came into view, you asked, “Is that what caused your thing with droids?”
“What thing?”
“Din.”
He was silent for a long moment.
“Droids destroyed my home planet, killed my parents. They’re the reason I was a foundling as a child.”
His words washed over you, and your heart dropped. You leaned forward in your seat to put a hand on his shoulder. He stayed perfectly still, helmet trained on the controls in front of him.
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded stiffly and reached up to squeeze your hand briefly.
“We’re about to land.”
You took that as a cue to drop the subject for now.
***
You and Din, the kid in his arms, approached a small collection of low structures. You swept your eyes across the uniform landscape—all was dry and sienna and flat. The Ugnaught’s homestead was the only sign of habitation in sight. The buildings were brown and domed, and windmills creaked slowly in the warm breeze. Three blurrgs in a large corral watched you balefully.
“Mandalorian!” the Ugnaught greeted, emerging from the door of his low home.
“Ugnaught,” Din replied with a nod.
“I did not think I would see you here again. What business brings you back to Arvala-7?”
“I was hoping that my friends could stay with you for a couple nights—I’ll pay you for the lodging.”
Of course he'd refer to me and a literal infant as his "friends."
You introduced yourself, offering your hand.
The Ugnaught bowed his head slightly as he clasped your hand: “It is nice to make your acquaintance. I am Kuill.”
At least Din knows his name now.
Kuill turned back to Din. “The child remains in your care,” he observed.
“Yes,” said Din, offering no explanation. He set the child down on the ground, and he toddled his way slowly over to Kuill.
Kuill scooped up the baby, and he chirruped happily, reaching toward his whiskery mustache.
“It hasn’t grown much.”
“I think it might be a Strand-Cast.”
You shot Din a skeptical look. He’d never shared this particular theory of his with you.
“I don’t think it was engineered. I’ve worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly,” mused Kuill.
You raised your eyebrows at the frankness of his statement. He is not ugly.
“Your friends are welcome to stay with me. No payment will be necessary. I have spoken.” Kuill turned and headed back inside without so much as a backward glance.
“I insist,” Din said to his back.
Kuill disappeared into his home.
Din turned to you: “He does that. Just ends a conversation like that.”
“I understand why the two of you get along so well. Men of few words.” You raised an eyebrow at him.
Din nodded, reinforcing your point inadvertently.
You and Din stepped closer to each other at the same time. For the first time, you let the concern you were feeling color your features.
“I’ll be back in three days, if not sooner.”
He was padding his timeline in response to the worry that was etched across your face. You knew Din could defend himself—that wasn’t your fear. It was that, whether he liked to admit it or not, he occasionally let trust blind him. The irony of that wasn’t lost on you, considering how long it had taken for him to trust you. This was the trademark paradox of Din. He was loath to fully let people in, but he had a tendency to take people at face value and assume they would keep their word—because he always kept his word. He had a surprisingly generous worldview for someone with such a violent profession and brutal past.
Din reached down to grab something small that was tucked in his belt—the metal ball from one of the controls in the cockpit that the kid loved to play with. He occasionally pretended to be irritated whenever he wanted to play with it, but you knew he found it endearing.
He handed it to you. “He’ll want that.”
You smiled and nodded, looking at the sphere in your palm. Din raised a hand to your chin and tilted your face back up to his.
Do we... hug? He doesn’t seem like a hugger.
So instead, you offered, “Be careful, okay?”
“I will,” he promised. He stayed there for a moment longer, looking at you and rubbing his thumb along your cheek. Before you could decide if you should also try to hug him, he turned abruptly to walk back to the Crest.
You stayed and watched him as he walked the distance back to the ship and disappeared up the ramp. You stayed and watched as the Razor Crest rumbled to life and took off. You stayed and watched as it ascended through the atmosphere and vanished from view.
***
It was a relief to be off the ship for a few days—even if Arvala-7 wasn’t exactly your ideal planet. It would be a treat to eat real food, instead of shelf-stable ration packs, and to have more than the limited space of the ship to move around in... not to mention an actual bed.
Kuill was a kind and welcoming host. He offered you his spare room, where you placed your things, and you sat down for tea together in his small kitchen.
“How did you come to be in the company of the Mandalorian and the child?”
“I guess he has a soft spot for people who are wanted by the Empire?” you chuckled, and Kuill nodded somberly. “Now, we’re just helping each other out.” You weren’t really sure how else to explain it.
Kuill didn’t press you anymore than that, nodding sagely. Instead, while you sipped your tea with the kid on your lap, he told you about his background—decades of indentured servitude to the Empire before he worked off his debt and bought his freedom—in the solemn, frugal way that was clearly characteristic of the Ugnaught. You understood why Din trusted him: he was forthright, calm, wise.
“What can I help you with while I’m here?” you asked, already anxious to find something to occupy your time.
“You are my guest. You do not need to do any work.”
“I would be happy to,” you insisted. “I would rather be busy. I can help with cleaning or repairs—whatever you need. My formal training was in programming, but I’ve picked up general skills along the way.”
Kuill nodded and said, “Come.”
He turned and walked out of his house. You set down your tea on the table and followed him, the child tucked in the crook of your elbow, happily clutching the silver ball. Kuill stopped in front of the workstation that was a short distance from his doorway. Tools and wiring and various speeder parts were arranged on and around a long workbench and a collection of smaller tables and shelves. The circular backdrop of the workbench was the repurposed window of a TIE fighter.
An assassin droid was laid across the tabletop.
“Is this the droid that Mando shot?”
“I believe so, yes. It was left behind, in the Mandalorian’s wake of destruction. I found it lying where it fell—devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remains of its neural harness. Reconstruction will be quite difficult.”
“What are your plans for it?”
“To convert it from an assassin droid to something more useful: a protocol and nurse droid.”
You nodded. “Handy.”
“I will have to reconstruct the neural harness, and then it will have to relearn every function from scratch. It will be a blank slate on which to program something nurturing instead of destructive. You may help me restore him if you would like.”
“Of course.”
The two of you got to work.
***
That night, when you lay down to sleep, you tossed and turned. The child was snuggled in a makeshift crib next to your bed. You found yourself sitting up periodically to check on him. Every time you checked on him, he was sleeping soundly.
Eventually, you slipped out of your bed, tiptoed quietly through the house, and walked out into the cold, clear night. You walked aimlessly for a while, circling the corral of blurrgs. They were asleep, eyes shut tight, standing in a close clump. Then you turned to head out across the open plain and watch the stars through the thin veil of clouds that dusted the sky.
You were starting to regret that you hadn’t pushed harder to go with Din. He was with a whole team of people who sounded untrustworthy at best, malicious at worst. You couldn’t help but think of all the things you should have said to him before he left. You hadn’t even hugged him.
It was freaking you out a little just how attached you were to a man who you’d known for a couple months.
You walked until the chill of the night air became too much, then turned back.
In the morning, you sat at Kuill’s kitchen table again, feeding the child. Kuill moved around the small food prep area, pulling together breakfast and making tea.
You followed Kuill as he went about his daily jobs, caring for the blurrgs, doing routine maintenance, and continuing the work on IG-11.
You were sweating in the sun, hands covered in grease, concentrating on refitting a damaged arm joint when Kuill’s calm voice brought you out of your train of thought.
“It is curious that the Mandalorian elected to keep the child.”
You looked up at him. “He secretly has a soft heart,” you said, smiling to yourself.
“Yes, that much is clear, but he is also set in his beliefs, and this choice went against the Guild Code. What is curious is that such a small being could inspire a change of heart in such a rigid person.”
You considered his words.
“I... think he was just waiting to find a greater purpose than hunting, to find someone to love, you know? It comes naturally to him, but I don’t think he’d ever had the chance.”
Kuill hummed thoughtfully. “Is that not what we are all doing—looking for a greater purpose?”
“I guess?” You shrugged.
“And have you?”
“Have I what?” you asked, wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead.
“Have you found the greater purpose you were looking for?”
You considered for a moment then said, “Well... I found a purpose a long time ago, when I joined the Alliance, and since then, I’ve been too busy trying to escape the wrath of the Empire to really think about what’s next in the larger sense... Staying alive has been the main priority.”
Kuill hummed again, glancing over at the kid. “You weren’t looking for something greater, but it appears to have found you.”
“I...,” you started. You watched the child, who was siting on the hard ground admiring the silver ball clutched in his hand. “I’m not sure.”
“I have spoken,” said Kuill, bowing his head, and he lapsed back into silence.
You watched the kid as he dropped the ball and staggered to his feet, squealing excitedly as he chased a lizard that darted past him. You wondered where Din was at this exact moment, and your heart squeezed in a familiar way.
***
The second night was much like the first. You walked outside for some time, thinking of all the awful things that could be happening to Din.
What if they turn on him?
What if another hunter finds him?
What if he doesn’t come back?
It wasn't a crazy thought. You were used to people not coming back.
Until that moment, you hadn't considered that you'd be the sole guardian of the kid if Din didn't return. For a split second, you felt the crushing weight of responsibility for the life and safety and happiness of the tiny green child that Din must feel at all times.
Eventually you fell into a fitful sleep, waking early, and the day dawned bright and cold. As the sun climbed, the chill rapidly dissipated, making way for a dry heat that seemed to be the only weather condition on Arvala-7.
You spent the morning helping Kuill continue the repairs on IG-11. You did your best to not count the hours that slipped by. He’d said it could take three days, so there was no reason to be concerned yet.
But... did he mean he would return ON the third day? Or the fourth day?
And for that matter... did the day he left count as day one? Or was yesterday day one?
Did he mean seventy-two hours from the time he left? Or that he’d be back at the start of the third day?
How did I not clarify this before he left??
That evening, you were in deep in discussion about artificial intelligence when Kuill said, “I believe your Mandalorian has returned to you.” He pointed behind you, and you whipped around to see the Crest touching down in a cloud of dust in the distance.
“Will you—?” you asked, turning back to Kuill.
“I will watch the child.” He seemed vaguely amused by your enthusiasm.
You sprang to your feet and walked as fast as you could toward the Crest. You briefly considered running, but that felt dramatic. He’d only been gone a couple days.
Why did he land so fucking far away?
You’d made it about half the distance when the ramp of the Crest finally began to lower with a hiss. Your resolve snapped, and you started to jog. Din descended the ramp, and you were so relieved to see him that you weren’t even embarrassed anymore that you were literally running to him.
Din cocked his head—a curious head tilt—when he saw you sprinting at him across the dusty ground. He paused at the bottom of the ramp.
“Are you—?” he started to say as you crashed into his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He barely budged upon impact.
His shoulders relaxed immediately, and he pulled you tight against him.
Well, if he wasn’t a hugger before, he is now.
“I’m okay,” he reassured you.
“Good,” you said into the fabric bunched around his neck.
After a moment, you released him and stepped back, the steadying weight of his hands remaining on your arms. He looked like he was in one piece, but the slight heaviness in his shoulders told you that the job had taken a toll on him.
“I, uh, missed you too,” he said, a little awkwardly.
You smiled at him and took his gloved hand in yours to walk back towards Kuill’s home. You felt slightly giddy that you were casually holding the Mandalorian’s hand. He seemed taken by it too, his helmet tilted down to where your fingers were intertwined.
“The kid?” he asked, looking up to your face.
“He’s good. Misses you, I think. Ate several frogs. And one lizard. The usual. He is disgusting,” you laughed.
Din made a sound that you would almost swear was a snort. “Yeah, he is,” he agreed fondly.
Kuill was waiting outside his home, the child in his arms. When you and Din were close, Kuill set him down, and the baby tottered over to wrap his tiny arms around Din’s calf.
You watched as Din bent stiffly, slowly to pick up the kid.
“You’re hurt,” you realized.
“I'm fine,” he said.
You felt sure that wasn’t true, but you let it be for the moment.
“Thank you,” Din addressed Kuill. He reached into the pouch of his belt for credits.
“I will not accept payment,” Kuill insisted, shaking his head. “In fact, your friend here helped me make great progress on my current project.” Kuill raised his eyebrows at you.
“Very well,” Din acquiesced.
You gathered your things and said your thank yous and goodbyes, returning to the Crest, which—with a jolt—you realized was already starting to feel like home.
***
Chapter 8
***
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#my writing#tempered glass#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian fanfic#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin fanfic#the mandalorian x you#din djarin x you#the mandalorian x female reader#din djarin x female reader#the mandalorian x f!reader#din djarin x f!reader#mature#mando x you#mando x female reader#mando x f!reader
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Thoughts and Reaction to SIMPLEMAN
A day late but that's what happens when good subs aren't out until the next day, and you're busy that day. This episode is so sweet and wholesome that it was worth it, for sure. I'm still not sure which one is Ella and which one is Etta. They're always addressed together so I just don't know, but I'd like to. ;-; (Note: Looked it up on Wikia, the one in pink with seafoam earrings is Etta, the one in seafoam and pink earrings is Ella) See Nino knows. Nino's concerned about Marinette babysitting three kids already. He lives with one all the time, times that by 4 and WOO that's crazy. Sweet of her to want to ensure her best friend has some time to relax with her boyfriend. Oh. OH those poor Kwami! Especially Fluff and her ears being pulled like a game of tug-of-war! I can see it now, Fluff now traumatized by young kids. So if Alix ever has any in the future, they better grow up knowing about Fluff right away or she's in for a horror show. PV TRAILER AND MUSIC! I'm such a fan of the music and the PV that when my sister told me about it, it made me even more excited for this episode than I already was. And I was very excited already! Manon: So? Aren't you going to answer it? She knows what's up. So Adrien's calling asking Marinette to help sew on a wing? Because nobody else there can do it? I dunno, sounds kind of sus to me, Adrien. Are you sure you're not using that as an excuse just to see your "friend"?
Marinette's biggest problem is thinking so far ahead in her brain that when she goes to speak, she's either way far ahead of herself or gets everything mixed up as it comes out of her mouth. If she just lived in the moment and didn't plan (which being Ladybug that's probably very hard not to do outside the costume), she'd be able to do this and overcome that fear of rejection as well. She seems to have that part fairly taken care though. When Gina said she was in China to learn Kung Fu and met a girl that reminded her of Marinette, instantly thought about Fei. How could it not be her? Rolland gets asked to babysit, immediately is like "Let's do something fun and dangerous!" Tom must have had an interesting childhood with Rolland and Gina. o.o Clearly Rolland doesn't realize who the heroes are based on. Or just completely forgot he met them when Bakerix. xD Adrien's so sweet with Marinette, even if he can't understand a single thing she says. That's adorable. But a really good way to thank her could've been "Would you stay and watch the photoshoot, and then maybe we could go do something fun/get something to eat after?" BOOM. Problems solved. But I have a feeling this may come back later, and maybe that would turn out better. Marinette's grandparents tend to give Hawk Moth/Shadowmoth the most sass and trouble in comparison to other Parisians. XD Rolland is so sweet to these kids, and they are so caring towards him. It's so wholesome! Just think: if that helicopter wasn't crashing behind her, she would've screamed she loved Adrien. So close. Simpleman is the chillest akuma. Being all "Hey kids, even though I'm akumatized, let's go out into the city!" and the kids are like "Yeah, okay. Hey let's get ice cream!"
Him protecting them from all the flying pizza boxes that guy was throwing around everywhere was super sweet too. LB and CN: Things are complicated. So we should find Shadow Moth directly. Let's run around the city screaming for him to come find us so we can fight him! I seriously think if Chat Noir or Ladybug brought up the fact that their identities made things complicated, they would've revealed themselves right then and there. LOL at the old school fighting and them behaving like young children xD "NO!" "I'm NaNa, ClaCla is no longer with NaNa! Paris is really messy! BuggyBug, KittyKity, help us!" Oh this is going to be so hilarious in the English dub with the voice actress who also voices Nathalie. XDDD A bouncy ball is very complicated for Ladybug. That a literal 5 year old can figure out. Wow this villain's power sure did a number on her. xD I find it all the more stressful actually, that Chat Noir and Ladybug can remember what they were doing the whole time they were affected by the akuma. That means if Marinette said she loved him, or they revealed their identities, there would be no going back or being able to make an excuse for it. Can we just talk about how those kids could understand that the reason he wants things to be simple and is upset that the world is so different, is because it scares him and he doesn't think he's capable of learning and changing with the world? A majority of adults these days can't even take two seconds to try to understand someone else's situation(s) before judging and being outright nasty people towards them. Yet these kids were able to do so. And a lot of kids actually are like they are in real life. Some may see this as an episode just for kids to appreciate, but there's a lot in here that's aimed at adults, too. Adults need reminders and these lessons just as much, if not more so than young kids. It's adults that lose their way and needed to be reminded of it, as they have a greater immediate impact on the world. I've seen so many people judge Rolland, make assumptions about him which is almost always the very worst things they could think of. But this episode shows how caring and willing to learn and understand he really is, he was just hiding behind his fear of change and not being able to keep up with it. Some lessons in this episode for the adult viewers are: -You're never too old to learn, get over your fears, try new things, become a better person, and see things through new eyes. -Don't over-complicate or overthink, but don't be lazy and think keeping everything simple will actually in reality be the answer, sometimes it can make things worse! -Kids tend to see the world as things are, not what they think it should be, or believing they're the center of the universe like adults tend to do. -Being wise means knowing that regardless of your field, educational background, age, or lived experiences, you don't know everything, there is always more for you to learn about everything out there. The kids in this show are quite wise, as they know that there is so much they don't know and how they treat learning new things. They also know how adults tend to understand, or act like they understand everything, so we as adults aren't used to it when we don't and react negatively to that because it scares us when we don't know. In that way, this episode was very brilliant! Also that hug at the end, oh you can bet these kids are going to want to go visit Grandpa Rolland, and honestly I'd love to see bits of them here and there, their bonds are adorable and they've changed his life in such a positive way. Also the pure Ladynoir without another hero or Alya or any kind of upsetting situation was honestly such a breath of fresh air! Maybe not the kind of Ladynoir people wanted, but it made me happy. Marinette acknowledged her problem is she's scared of Adrien rejecting her. First step is admitting it! Can't blame her for not being able to do what she wanted, she only just realized the issue after all. It's going to take a little time now to work on it! Is it just me, or
does it seem Adrien's almost trying not to laugh when she was messing up and then asked if he liked fishing? XD Maybe it was the actors tone with the facial expression but it seemed that way! But the way he just watches her run away and does that adorable little chuckle... Oh Adrien, we really need you to start realizing why you keep doing that. "She (Ladybug) reminds me of your grandmother and you know what? You look exactly like her (Ladybug)." Well. Oop. He's onto you! Apparently Rolland isn't blind, as not a single character suspected her from her personality or appearance to be Ladybug so far. Even Adrien only began piecing it together due to circumstances (and his own personal wish that Marinette is LB, you can't convince me otherwise this isn't true). This is going to come back later, possibly Dearest Family? Overall such a good episode with a lot of things in it, if you decide to watch without high expectations or biases. After all the angst lately, it was certainly needed as a nice change of pace.
#ml#miraculous ladybug#miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir#ml spoilers#ml season 4 spoilers#ml spoilers season 4#simpleman#simpleman spoilers#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#ladybug#chat noir#rolland dupain#chris lahiffe#ella cesaire#etta cesaire#manon chamack#toujoursmiraculous' thoughts and reactions#thoughts and reactions
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Act one (Spencer Reid/ Reader)
Requested: Yes. Hello hello @meowiemari
Summary: Spencer's girlfriend is a sweetheart, but he discovers a new side of her when she gets the lead on a play, and she portraits an unsub.
Category: Hardcore fluff 💜 (you know that's how we roll here)
Warnings: Maybe a little cursing here and there, but that's it.
Word count: 3,7K
Masterlist
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Spencer's girlfriend was a sweetheart. (Y/N) was the kind of girl who you thought might actually be a Disney princess in a different universe. She was adorable. Garcia was crazy for her, Morgan adored her, JJ thought of her as a little sister, and Prentiss always tried (and failed) to make (Y/N) curse once each time she saw her. They loved her.
And, of course, Spencer loved his girlfriend. He couldn't deny it. He didn't even try to do it. He knew he was young. He was just 25, after all. But he already knew she was the love of her life. Derek would always tease him about it, joking about how he was ready to propose to her, even after just six months of dating.
Spencer would laugh, but deep down, he knew Derek was right. (Y/N) was just perfect for him. She was the sweetest girl everywhere she went. That's why everybody was in shock when over dinner in Penelope's, she announced to the team she might play a serial killer in a play she was putting on with her drama group.
- "Oh, honey"- Penelope smiled and caressed her hand on the table- "There's no way you can actually pull that off."
- "What? Why?"- (Y/N) asked, confused, as the whole team nodded in agreement with Garcia's words.
- "You are too sweet to portray a killer nurse!"- Prentiss added
- "Well, I am not going actually to do it. I have to learn my lines and all, but I'm the substitute for the part."
- "Substitute?"- Spencer frowned, in shock- "What do you mean? You are amazing!"
- "Yeah, well, apparently not as amazing as Rachel Cooper. She got the lead role, again."- (Y/N) smiled and took a sip of her wine- "But, anyway, if anything happens, it's on, and I'll play a mass murderer nurse."
- "You are too sweet for that role, baby face"- Derek smiled at his friend and shook his head- "But you'd make an amazing job."
- "Thank you, Morgan. It's a little upsetting, 'cos I know I could do great. But well, I guess Rachel Cooper is gonna do an amazing job, and everybody's gonna be happy. It's really a team effort after all, and we are all there to have fun."
- "See?"- Penelope pointed at her- "You are too sweet to portrait a serial killer."
Spencer held (Y/N)'s hand on their walk back to her place and kissed it several times. She blushed and smiled at him as they talked of anything and everything.
- "Please don't hate me, but I'm kind of glad you didn't get the part."- Spencer confessed when they were about to reach (Y/N)'s door.
- "Why?"- she didn't get what he was talking about, especially considering she was dying to get that role in that play.
- "Because the guys are right, you are too sweet to play a mass murderer."
- "That's the idea of acting, Spencer, portraying someone you are not, and making your best to fit the role and convince the audience."
(Y/N) whispered and sighed as they walked the last couple of steps in silence.
Reid felt he had ruined it.
- "I'm sorry, buttercup. I know you'd do a great job. I was just trying to cheer you up."
- "I know, honey. It's ok."- (Y/N) whispered and cut him a small smile. She knew he was sincere.
- "I'll call you tomorrow."- Spencer said as they said their goodbyes on her apartment's door.
- "I had a great time tonight."- she answered and felt his lips on her for a second. She sighed and leaned over to kiss him again as soon as Spencer moved from her. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him for a moment.
- "I'm sorry you didn't get the part, (Y/N)."- Spencer murmured and looked into her eyes in adoration.
- "It's ok, Spencer."
- "You'd make an adorable killer nurse."- and she giggled as she felt his lips against hers. It was his favorite sound in the world, and it made Spencer feel butterflies in his whole body each time she laughed like that. So sweetly and bubbly.
- "You are just saying that 'cos you love me,"- she whispered and kissed him again. Spencer chuckled and thought he could love her even if she actually were a murderer.
During the next couple of weeks, (Y/N) divided her time after work between Spencer and rehearsals with her drama club. And each time she was at the theater, she was happy. She had a fantastic group of friends to have fun with. Except for Rachel Cooper. She was the exception of the whole gang. Actually, no one really liked her much. She had a nasty attitude toward everybody in the club. She acted like life was still the same as it was in high school. She thought she was one of the popular girls, and no one could mess with her.
No one but karma, apparently.
- "(Y/N)!! (Y/N)!! Where the hell are you?!"- everybody in the place could hear Rachel yelling backstage, looking for (Y/N).
- "I'm here! What is it?"- the girl waved and continued painting part of the background of the play.
- "I need you to sew my dress!"- Rachel commanded and literally threw her outfit on (Y/N)'s face.
- "You were supposed to have it done already! The premier is tomorrow!"
(Y/N) sighed and smiled at Rachel. Of all the people in the club, (Y/N) was the only one who didn't hate her. If anything, (Y/N) was the only one who was still somehow friendly with her. Why? 'Cos she couldn't' help it. She was just too nice for her own good.
- "Give me ten minutes, Rachel. You'll have it ready for the rehearsal"- (Y/N) answered and smiled- "Just let me wash my hands. I don't want this to be all covered with paint."
- "You better don't!"- Rachel mumbled and walked away.
- "How on earth can you be so nice with that bitch?!"- Tina turned to (Y/N) and raised an eyebrow- "Each time I hear her talk, I have to make a major effort not to break her fake nose against a wall"
- "Come on!"- (Y/N) frowned and shook her head- "She is just nervous. She is the lead. You know that can get to you when you are performing."
- "She was born being the lead. The lead witch of the meanest coven I've ever seen"- Tina added and shook her head- "Honey, you are too sweet with her, and people like her eat nice girls like you for breakfast.·
- "I'm not gonna change who I am just 'cos she is mean. And she hasn't done anything to me."
- "(Y/N)!"- Rachel yelled- "That dress is not going to sew itself!"- Tina looked at (Y/N) right into the eyes, and the girl just smiled.
- "She is just nervous. Don't be mean."
But Rachel wasn't friendly. Not with (Y/N), and not with anyone in the whole club. For twenty-two years old, she could be very juvenile. (Y/N) could understand her, though. She didn't know why, but she couldn't be mad at Rachel. If anything, she felt sorry for her. (Y/N) was sure it had to be a burden to be like that, and she bet Rachel didn't know better.
- "Hello?"- (Y/N) walked into Rachel's dressing room and picked up the phone, excited to read Spencer's name on the screen.
- "Hello princess, how are you?"
- "Hello honey, I miss you so much."- (Y/N) replied and nearly sighed just by hearing Spencer's voice at the other side of the line.
- "I miss you too, Bunny. I'm calling from the airport with good news, though. We are on our way back home."
- "Really? You caught the bad guy?!"- the way (Y/N) asked about the case made her sound younger and more naive than she was. Spencer smiled and blushed, imagining her shiny eyes and her excited face. Rachel cleared the throat and handed (Y/N) the dress and the sewing kit.
- "Yes, we'll be back home tonight, so do you wanna grab a late dinner with me?"
- "Of course! I'm in rehearsal right now, wanna meet at my place? I'll ask for some take-out from your favorite Korean place."
- "Sounds like a plan. See you later, princess."
- "I love you, Spencer."
- "I love you too."- Rachel rolled her eyes as (Y/N) placed her phone back in her pocket and started sewing her dress.
- "So, you have a boyfriend?"- the way Rachel asked that question made it sound like it was something shocking and improbable to happen.
- "Yes, Spencer and I have been dating for over half a year already,"- (Y/N) answered proudly
- "Spencer, uh?"- Rachel repeated his name and looked at (Y/N), raising an eyebrow- "And what does he do?"
- "He works at the FBI"- the girl answered with a big proud smile- "He is a profiler at the BAU."
- "What does that mean? Does he makes good money?"
(Y/N) chuckled and shook her head. She didn't even know if Spencer made good money or not at his job. But she knew the most important thing about it: that he loved what he did for a living and that he was happy going to work every day, 'cos he had the chance to save people's lives.
- "He analyzes the behavior of mass murderers and catches serial killers."- (Y/N) explained with pride in her voice- "He has been out of town for two weeks, and he just called to tell me he is coming back home."
- "Does he travel often?"- Rachel asked and raised an eyebrow staring at (Y/N), who smiled and nodded, sewing her dress.
- "Yes, he and the team have to work across the country."
- "So, how do you deal with all the cheating?"
- "What?"- (Y/N) frowned and looked at Rachel for a moment, confused and shocked by her words.
- "Oh, come ok, honey. If he travels so much, it's only obvious he must have some flings now and then. After all, he is a man."
- "You don't know Spencer. He is not like that"- (Y/N) answered and returned to her job. Rachel stood up and sighed.
- "Oh honey, I know men, and they are all the same. They can't keep it in their pants."
And after those poisonous words, Rachel chuckled and walked out of the room.
(Y/N) tried not to think about what she had just heard. Instead, she continued sewing and repeated to herself Rachel had no idea what she was talking about. It was clear someone had broken her heart, and now Rachel couldn't trust anyone. Maybe she didn't want anyone to trust anyone anymore. Whatever was the reason, (Y/N) felt it didn't mean Rachel was a bad person, only someone who had gone through some bad situation that had gotten the best of her.
(Y/N) made a mental note to invite her for ice cream or some tea after the play and talk. Maybe what Rachel needed was a friend.
- "Help!! Help me!"- someone yelling took (Y/N) from her thoughts and made her jump from her spot and run outside.
- "Help me! Please!!"
- "What happened?"- (Y/N) and the rest of the drama club found Rachel on the floor, crying in pain.
- "I was trying on the shoes for the play, and I think I sprained my ankle!"- Rachel yelled and hit the floor- "Call a fucking medic!"
- "Fucking call a medic yourself!"- Tina answered and turned around- "You have a fucking cellphone in your hand. Probably you fell 'cos you were too busy taking selfies to look where you were going."
- "I'll help you. Just stay still."- (Y/N) whispered and kneeled next to Rachel- "Let me get you some ice."
- "Hurry up!!"- Rachel grunted, crying. Tina rolled her eyes and turned around to go back to what she was doing.
- "That bitch doesn't deserve your help."
- "I need your help!"- (Y/N) nearly tackled Spencer as soon as he showed up at her door later that night.
- "Hello to you too, princess"- he answered and kissed her lips, chuckling.
- "Sorry, hi, how are you? How was your flight?"- she asked all the questions at once as she held his hand and crawled him into her apartment.
- "I'm so happy to see you!"- he said and smiled, keeping his eyes on her. (Y/N) walked around, searching for something.
- "Here!"- and when she found it, she handed it to Spencer and smiled- "I need your help!"
- "What is it, bunny?"
- "Remember the play I'm in? That I'm the substitute for the lead role?"
- "Yes, I remember."
- "The play is tomorrow, and two hours ago, Rachel Cooper sprained her ankle doing wardrobe fitting. And now I am going to be the mass murdered nurse killing it in the play!"- (Y/N) smiled and hugged Spencer.
- "Oh! But I feel so bad Rachel is hurt. I sent her chocolates and flowers. I hope that cheer her up a little bit."
- "Wait, wait, wait! Are you telling me my girlfriend is going to be the lead in the play?"- Spencer asked her, surprised. (Y/N) just nodded frenetically, and he hugged her again.
- "Buttercup! This is great!"
- "But I need your help with my lines! Please help me, Obi-Wan."
- "I'm guessing those are not your line."- Spencer joked, and (Y/N) giggled.
- " I only had one whole rehearsal today, and that's it. I need to work on my lines with someone for tomorrow."
Spencer stared at her excited and happy smile, and it didn't matter that he was exhausted from the travel and the last two weeks of work. He couldn't say no to that smile.
- "Of course I'll help you!"- (Y/N) clapped and jumped on her stop.
- "Thank you so much!"
- "But please tell me you got me tickets for tomorrow."
- "For you and the rest of the team, if they want to go."- (Y/N) replied and kissed her boyfriend's lips- "Thank you, Spencer. You are the best."
The next evening, Spencer dragged the whole team along with him to see (Y/N)'s play. He had never been more excited about going to the theater before. He had bought (Y/N) flowers, and he made sure to have the best seats in the whole place.
- "Ok, pretty boy,"- Morgan chuckled as he noticed Spencer kept fidgeting his fingers nonstop- "Why are you so nervous? It's just a play for fun."
- "I don't know. I just want (Y/N) to enjoy her time and be proud of what she does."
- "I'm sure she will"- Penelope smiled at Reid and tapped on his arm- "I'm just scared she is too sweet to portrait an unsub."
- "Yeah, me too!"- JJ whispered and shook her head.
- "But the kid is a good actress, and she is going to be great,"- Derek added and turned to Spencer- "You've seen her acting before. Is she good?"
- "Yes, very."
- "You are not a reliable source"- Prentiss argued and opened a bag of jelly beans- "You are having sex with her. You are not objective."
Spencer wanted to argue with Emily, but he couldn't even make a sound. He felt so embarrassed and mortified with Prentiss's comment, and he couldn't even talk about the subject.
The lights went out, and the audience started clapping. Spencer's stomach tightened as he held his breath. He was more nervous than (Y/N) was, and she was the one walking into the stage that very same second.
An hour had passed, and Spencer Walter Reid couldn't move. He was glued to his seat, and his eyes could barely even blink. He was hypnotized by the beauty of the woman on that stage. A woman who looked so much like his girlfriend but acted entirely differently.
Was it wrong to feel so attracted by someone who was portraying a mass murderer? Was it considered cheating being drawn in such a profound way to someone who was nothing like his girlfriend, even when it was actually his girlfriend?
Spencer couldn't move. He could barely register what was going on around him and how Penelope giggled when she noticed (Y/N) hypnotized Reid in a way that only a man under a spell could be.
And that spell was lust.
When the play was over, Spencer stood up and clapped until his hands hurt. (Y/N) looked at him and smiled sweetly, thinking she couldn't believe what had just happened. She was the lead role on a play, and she nailed it. She had killed it. Literally, 'cos she had killed pretty much the whole cast during the show. She had been someone completely different than she was in real life, and she loved it. It had been fun, and she felt proud of her job.
- "Munchkin!!"- Penelope yelled as soon as she saw (Y/N) walking to them backstage- "You were amazing!!"
- "Thank you so much, Penelope!!"- (Y/N) chuckled and hugged her friend- "I'm so happy you are all here!"
- "You are the only unsub we are looking for tonight, pretty girl!"- Derek hugged her too, and his words made her laugh
- "You are definitely some actress! I couldn't believe that was really you!"
(Y/N) knew she was blushing as Emily complimented her acting. The girl nodded and hugged JJ, to then look behind her friend to find one shy Spencer Reid staring at her in deep love and adoration.
- "Hi. I think I saw you clapping in the audience,"- (Y/N) joked and walked over to Spencer. He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came from his lips, 'cos his eyes were on (Y/N)'s clothing.
She was still wearing the nurse outfit from the play. And though it wasn't necessarily sexy (not in the sexy nurse costume you usually see), it did things to him. Things Spencer had to suppress to act like a human being of his friends were there too.
- "You were incredible"- that was all Reid could mumble as he hugged his girlfriend and gave her the flowers he had gotten for her.
- "Thank you, honey"- (Y/N) hugged him and noticed how his arms held her tighter and closer. She knew Spencer wasn't very comfortable being physical with her around his friends, especially around Derek, 'cos he would tease them until Garcia smacked him.
But that night, Spencer didn't really care. In fact, he couldn't help it. He needed to feel her, to touch her, to kiss her. And so he did. He kissed (Y/N) slowly at first, his lips recognizing hers and enjoying her softness. But within seconds, his kiss got hungrier and more passionate. It was a kiss that he had been imagining for the last hour and a half, watching her acting. And he didn't know how to control that passion anymore.
- "Woo, kid! Slow down!"- Derek chuckled and started joking, but Spencer didn't even pay attention to him. His hands held (Y/N) closer, cupping her face against him, making her moan softly.
- "Ok, ok, please stop! This is disturbing!!"- Garcia complained, but they didn't break the kiss either- "Ok, we'll wait outside, come on, Derek!"
- "Kid, what's..."- But Morgan couldn't continue making fun of Spencer, 'cos Penelope literally dragged him outside, along with Emily and JJ, who were laughing.
(Y/N) giggled, but Spencer didn't break the kiss. His tongue played between her lips slowly, and his hands moved slowly down her back until they reached her waist.
- "I have the feeling you really like me on this play,"- (Y/N) whispered, as her lips rubbed her boyfriend's as she spoke. He chuckled and nodded, deepening the kiss again.
- "Very much."
- "Is it the outfit?"- (Y/N) asked and rested her forehead against Spencer's. He sighed and looked at her for a second.
- "If I have to be honest, I think it was the whole thing,"- he confessed, blushing. For someone who had shamelessly made out with his girlfriend in the middle of a room filled with strangers, he was suddenly timid.
- "You were so different, and... please don't get me wrong. I love you, and I love who you are. But the way you acted... how you played the role of a mean girl..."
- "Did that turn you on?"- (Y/N) whispered, feeling her cheeks turning all shades of pink. Spencer chuckled and bit his lips. He couldn't even speak, so he just nodded and looked at his girlfriend.
- "Do you wanna know something that might make you happy?"
- "What?"- even when they were incredibly close, and no one could hear what they were talking about, (Y/N) leaned in and whispered in his ear.
- "Rachel Cooper's outfit didn't fit me, so I had to buy this one. Which means, I'm gonna take this nurse back home with me, in case you wanna play with her later"- Spencer wide opened his eyes and looked at her, gulping.
- "Really?"
- "Yes, Doctor Reid. Now I suggest you be good and behave in front of your friends. We'll talk about this when we are back in my place. Ok?"- Spencer's words got caught in his throat when he heard (Y/N) giving him commands. All he managed to do was to nod, and her lips sealed the deal with a hot sloppy kiss.
Who could have imagined two nice kids were going to find out they were both pretty dirty at the very same time?
*****************************
Taglist:
@all-tings-diego @calm-and-doctor
#Spencer Reid#Criminal Minds#matthew gray gubler#mgg#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal mind fanfic#fluff#babymetaldoll writes#Spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n
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Text
But professor… - c.5
Summary: A few weeks have gone by. How are Penny and Walter doing?
Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)
Wordcount: 5k
Warnings: Some sweet love making (sex, fingering, blowjob - yes, it’s sweet love making)
Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter
Five weeks have gone by. It’s been five whole weeks since Walter and I kissed for the first time. My days are spend mostly in the library, sometimes in my own dorm or—and this is my favorite—with Walter in his loft. I love spending time in his loft, because there aren’t any loud students in the hallways, obviously intoxicated and think they’re funny by knocking at my door and telling me they’ll pee against it. It’s just him and me in his loft, together with some soft lofi music in the background as he continues to make food for me, totally spoil me with everything I want and basically help me with all my assignments.
I haven’t told anyone about us. As if there are people who—beside my parents—I could tell. How do you even bring it up? ‘Hi, my name is Penny and I kiss my criminology professor almost on a daily basis and I’m totally and utterly in love with him?
Nope, that is not gonna work.
There are many things I love about us spending time together. The attentive way he pays attention to everything I say. How he sits with me on the couch, helping me get through my assignments, but also to check out different cosmetology schools for me to maybe enroll. I still haven’t quite decided yet whether or not I want to do that.
I mean, I want to, but how do I sell this grand idea to my parents, who really want me to go to NYU and finish my major?
But maybe it’s the way he takes care of me that I love the most about it all. It sounds so codependent, I know, but there is no one who ever gave me attention like this, not even my parents. My parents didn’t understand my love for embroidery, for nail art and doing my hair. They didn’t understand I wanted a sewing machine for my sixteenth birthday, instead of a car.
No guy in my life went out of his way for me. No breakfast in bed, no asking permission whether or not he could touch me and no one who was willing to put up with all my anxious thoughts.
Walter on the other hand, he does it all. He understands my love for embroidery (he even allowed me to put some on his shirt), he lets me try out products on his hair and takes his sweet time with me.
Today, the long weekend starts, meaning we have time off from Friday till Tuesday. It’s Friday night when I’m finally back at my dorm. I open the door and when I want to lock it once I’m inside, it doesn’t seem to work.
That’s weird.
I might not have any knowledge when it comes to this, but I quickly come to the conclusion that it only works when I lock it from the outside, not the inside.
Great, it’s Friday night and the thought alone of me spending the night with a door that doesn’t lock, causes shivers down my spine. I grab my phone and call the only one I can think of.
‘Hi princess, what’s up?’ Walter asks as he answers the phone.
My heart shouldn’t skip a beat or two, but it does. It always does. ‘My lock isn’t working properly,’ I say, trying to lock my door again, but still nothing seems to happens. ‘It only locks and unlocks from the outside.’
‘Hm, we can’t call a locksmith right now,’ he says. ‘You’re not sleeping there tonight. Go pack your stuff, lock the door and then tomorrow we’ll call someone to check it out. I’d absolutely hate it if you were to stay there.’
I smile. ‘Okay.’
‘I’ll pick you up at the station. I’ll text you when I’m there and when you leave, share your location.’
✎ ✎ ✎
Just to make sure that I am not stepping in a car with a serial killer, I check once more if Walter really is in the truck. Through the droplets of water on my glasses I find it hard to focus, but seeing that smile, makes me realize I’ve got the right truck. I open the door and get in.
‘Hello,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’m so sorry that I look like a drowned kitten. New York weather isn’t too kind on me.’
‘Nonsense,’ he chuckles. ‘Drowned kitten or not, you look absolutely adorable. Now come here and give me a kiss.’ He leans into my direction and I meet him half way to press a long kiss on his lips. ‘You’re so beautiful, princess,’ he whispers against my lips, before he starts up the truck. As he drives off the vacant parking lot, he places his hand on my thigh.
‘It was quite hard to find the car,’ I admit. ‘In all my hastiness I forgot to put in my lenses and my glasses don’t come with wipers.’
He smiles. ‘I missed your glasses. They look so sweet on you.’
‘You think?’
‘Yes,’ he says without thinking. ‘Can’t believe your lock doesn’t work. What a shitty dorm you stay in.’
‘Kinda.’
I don’t know if he’s consciously doing or not, but his hand pushes up my dress. He places his hand a little above my knee. ‘Is this okay, princess?’
‘Yes,’ I say. Thankfully the truck allows me to scoot over a little and place my head on his shoulder. I wrap my arms around his thick one and let out a content sigh as I take in his cologne. ‘Thank you for picking me up,’ I whisper. ‘For protecting me.’
‘Oh, that’s only natural,’ he says.
When we’re at his apartment building, I finally am able to hold his hand as we walk up to the elevator. I hate this part of his apartment, since it’s partially underground and it’s really dark to get to the elevator. Walter holds my backpack in his other hand and squeezes my fingers. The second he closes the door of his loft, he carefully places my bag on the floor, before he helps me out of my coat.
‘Ah, princess, you’re cold.’
I don’t really care. I stand on my toes to give him a kiss, a long one. I’ve been yearning for his touch the entire day. We’re taking it slow—painfully slowly for that matter—but maybe it’s a good thing we do. Two weeks ago, he gave me a kiss, his hand sliding down from my lower back to my ass, which caused me to stiffen up completely. It’s ridiculous. I love it when he touches me, when he pulls me on his lap and he gives me intense kisses.
Yet I sometimes stiffen up completely.
My fingers push up his sweater and I touch his bare sides. He holds my face in his rough hands, softly caressing my cheeks. ‘Princess, wait a minute. As much as I want this, I don’t want to force you.’ He pushes some stray baby hairs out of my face. ‘You’re tense.’
‘I’m not tense,’ I tell him.
‘You kinda are, sweetheart.’
I let out a sigh. ‘Okay, maybe I am a little, but that is just because I’m nervous. I want this with you, Water. I trust you, it’s just that no one has ever seen me naked before.’
He nods, pecking my forehead. ‘We can just take a shower first,’ he suggests. ‘But only if you want. I need you to be honest with me.’
‘I want this with you,’ I whisper. ‘I really do. A shower sounds great.’
‘Allow me to show you the way.’
��� ✎ ✎
The water is running and Walter’s already in the shower. I saw him naked and he is… Big, tall and broad in all sorts of ways to say the least. I mean, I’ve seen some porn and while I am aware that’s fake and unrealistic, I’m kinda confused now.
Walter comes so close to it, what if it isn’t fake?
I take off my vest, before I shred myself from my other pieces of clothing. I watch as my lacy pink underwear drops to the floor and I take a deep breath.
I want this, no need to be nervous. It’s just Walter. He told me I’m beautiful many many times, that won’t change when he sees me like this, right? He saw me in my underwear once, that time I changed into his shirt right before we went bed. I remember him smirking, whispering I was so damn gorgeous and that if I wanted, I should just sleep next to him like this.
I open the shower curtain, causing Walter to turn around and he smiles widely when his eyes land on me. He holds out his hand, so he can help me in the cubicle. My eyes dart around, anywhere but to him.
‘If you don’t want to do this,’ he whispers, ‘just tell me.’ He places his hands on my upper arms and adds: ‘Princess, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Really, we can take as much time as you want.’
‘I want this,’ I whisper. ‘Really, I do.’
He nods. ‘I think,’ he says, ‘you are absolutely breathtaking. There is no one out there who can compete with you.’
‘Thank you,’ I say in a soft tone, finally looking into his eyes. ‘You’re handsome.’
He buffs out his hairy chest and I place my hands on it as I let out a nervous chuckle. ‘I want you to breath, Penny.’
‘I am breathing.’
‘No,’ he chuckles, ‘you’re holding your breath. There is absolutely no need to be nervous. It’s just me.’
‘It’s not just you,’ I say. ‘You’re my professor, my boyfriend.’
He nods. ‘Don’t you worry about that, you already got your straight A,’ he jokes.
I wrap my arms around his waist and I hide my face in his chest. ‘You know, I’ve been thinking about going to cosmetology school, so your grade doesn’t really matter anyway.’
‘How are you gonna tell your parents?’
‘I don’t know,’ I whisper. ‘You helped me with figuring out who I am, I bet you’ll help me with this as well. Besides, if I do cosmetology school, I can start in February.’
‘You’re gonna finish your semester here?’
I shrug. ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure yet.’
‘Well, whatever you do, know that I’m proud of you. And when you leave your dorm, you can stay here for the time being. Is better for my heart anyways, I don’t like you staying in those sleazy dorms.’
I can’t help but smile. ‘You’re too sweet.’ I place my chin on his chest and he leans down to give me a peck on my lips. His kisses continue to be soft, causing goosebumps to appear on my entire skin. His touches are light, his hands squeezing in the soft flesh of my hips. ‘The second you feel uncomfortable,’ he says again, ‘you tell me. I don’t want to hurt you.’
‘I know, Walter.’ I hold his face in between my hands, pulling him in for another kiss. The warm stream of water massages my back, as Walter pulls me closer to him. I softly gasp for air as my chest is firmly pressed against his. His lips descend from my mouth to my nape and I’m pretty sure he is leaving marks.
‘Does that feel good, princess?’
‘It does,’ I whimper, as a buzzing warmth starts to form between my legs.
His hands slide up from my hips to my waist and they stay underneath my breasts, his thumbs slightly touching them. ‘Can I?’
I nod. ‘Please, please, yes.’
‘We’re already getting a little needy?’ he chuckles, as his hands cup my breasts. His thumbs toy with my stiffened nipples and I squeal of the unfamiliar sensation. ‘That’s my girl,’ he says with a smile, before giving me a long kiss on my lips. ‘You have no idea how lucky I am.’
✎ ✎ ✎
Walter has carried me to his bed, not caring to dry off either of our bodies. I could sense it in the shower, him becoming more and more desperate. His hands kneading into my flesh, his kisses growing rougher and him pushing my back against the cold shower wall, left him with a satisfied grin as I finally made a little bit of sound.
He has spread my legs, kissing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. He wraps his strong arms around my hips, his broad shoulders preventing me from closing my legs together. ‘Can you relax for me?’ he asks me, his hot breath against my throbbing slit.
‘I’m very relaxed,’ I say in a hoarse tone.
‘Unclench those fists for me then,’ he says and only then I realize my hands are balled into fists. ‘I want you to enjoy it, okay?’
‘Okay,’ I whisper. ‘What do I do with my hands?’
He smiles. ‘Run them through my hair,’ he says. ‘Can you do that for me?’
I nod, reaching down with my hands to grab some of his soft hair. ‘I don’t look hideous?’
Walter places his head against my inner thigh, looking up with nearly a pained expression. ‘Princess, why would you say that?’
I shrug. ‘Just a question.’
‘You’re beautiful, every part of you.’ He lets his tongue slide through my slit, before he wraps his lips around my clit. My back arches off the mattress and when the vibrations of his groans hit my sensitive bud, I let out a moan. Faster than my own shadow, I place a hand over my mouth, hoping to muffle out those sounds.
‘No, princess,’ he says, looking up. ‘Don’t do that. I want to hear those pretty sounds.’
It’s hard to let go. It’s hard to make sounds, to let him know how he makes me feel. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper. ‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘I… I don’t know.’
‘You’re doing great, sweetheart. Nothing to be embarrassed about.’ He gives my thighs a reassuring squeeze, before he dives back in, this time hungrier than before. I can’t help but clench my thighs together, nearly crushing his head between them. I pull his hair, as his tongue draws circles around my clit.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, I think to myself. This feels so foreign, so—
A sob leaves my lips, interrupting my thoughts as my toes start to curl. My hips buck up and an unfamiliar feeling washes over me. This tension I had stored in my entire body, nearly slips out of my body, as I shake on the bed. Tears run over my cheeks and I hide my face in my hands. ‘Stop, please, stop,’ I whimper.
I can’t see what Walter’s doing, but I feel the bed dip beside me. ‘Princess,’ he whispers to me, his arm wrapping around my waist, ‘you did so well for me.’
I press my legs together, as I catch my breath. ‘Walter, it’s sensitive.’
Walter pushes some strands of my hair back, before peeling my hands from my face. ‘It usually is. I almost think you never masturbated before.’
My cheeks burn up and I hate that he can see it. ‘I have, but… Never orgasmed before.’
He gives me a kiss and says: ‘I see, I see. How did it feel?’
‘It felt good,’ I whisper, before I clear my throat.
Walter must sense my insecurities, because his tone is soft when he says: ‘I’m proud of you.’ He does all the right things for me to relax. His fingertips draw figures on my skin, he kisses the left over tears away and whispers sweet little nothings in my ear, almost as if he wants to sooth me. ‘Do you want to continue?’
‘I do, I do,’ I quickly say.
Walter moistens his fingers between his lips, before he reaches down. My hips involuntarily buck up as they brush passed my sensitive clit, earning myself a low chuckle from Walter. As he gently pushes in one finger as he lays beside me, I wrap my arm around his shoulders. ‘Kiss me,’ I whisper.
He obliges without letting a second, slamming his plump lips on mine. I melt against him, his warmth radiating against my body. He pushes in another finger, slowly stretching me out as I whimper against his lips.
‘You’re doing great, sweetheart,’ he tells me, when he feels my digits wrapped around his thick wrist. ‘You feel so good around my fingers.’
I don’t even think about it, but the words: ‘I need you,’ leave my lips before I know it.
‘You do now?’
Oh, we’re getting cocky?
He pumps in his fingers, in a slow pace. ‘Good thing I need you too.’ His thumb brushes against my clit and when I clench around his fingers and I feel that same feeling bubbling up deep inside me, he stops. Pulls out his fingers and I let out a whine. ‘Want me to use a condom, darling?’
I nod. I might be inexperienced, but I am not that daft to risk a pregnancy. Especially since I’m not on the pill. He grabs one from the bedside table, rolls it on and sits in between my legs.
I don’t want to say it, but I worry. He is big and I have no idea if it’s gonna fit. What if it hurts? Oh no, what if I’m one of those women that start bleeding during her first time? Leave it up to me to bleed a gallon and having to go to the emergency room.
‘Okay, you need to get out of your head,’ he says, as he teases his tip near my aching entrance. ‘Don’t you worry a thing, okay?’
‘I’ll try, Walter,’ I say in a shaky tone. ‘What if it hurts?’
‘Then you tell me,’ he says, squeezing my leg. ‘Princess, it would help if you stopped worrying.’
‘I’m trying,’ I say. ‘I really am.’ This is not the time to cry, Penny. Don’t you dare—
It’s too late. A hot tear rolls over my cheek, followed by many more and Walter quickly pulls me up. I sit on his thick legs, his arms wrapped tightly around me. ‘We can stop, Penny,’ he says. ‘We really can.’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t want to,’ I whisper. ‘I’m just afraid it’ll hurt.’
He nods. ‘We’ll take it slow, okay? We have the entire night. Heck, we have the entire weekend.’
‘But I want to do it now,’ I say. In a softer tone I add: ‘I want you, Walter. I need you.’
He gently places me on my back again, nearly suffocating me with kisses, causing me to laugh. With his lips locked on mine, he pushes in his tip. I dig my nails in his strong back. ‘Feels good?’
‘It does,’ I groan. ‘More, I can handle it.’
He slowly sinks in, my walls wrapping closely and tightly around him. Walter lets out a growl like sound, stilling his motions. ‘My girl,’ he chuckles, ‘I’m so proud of you. Taking me in like it’s nothing.’
‘You’re proud of me? Really?’ I ask.
‘I wouldn’t lie to you, princess.’ He allows me to stretch around him. He pats my thigh a few times, before giving it a squeeze. Walter checks one more time if I’m ready and when I nod, he pulls out, before carefully sliding back in.
The thrusts are soft. His bed slightly creaks every time he buries himself back into me. The room is filled with his grunts and loving words and with my hoarse gasps. I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand, as I take in this unknown, but pleasurable feeling.
‘Faster,’ I whisper. ‘Please.’
‘You sure?’
‘Mhm.’
Not only do the thrusts grow faster, but slightly harder as well and those soft gasps of mine, quickly turn into something louder. A thin layer of sweat on both of our bodies. My legs wrapped tightly around his hips.
I flutter around his hard member, causing him to smile. ‘I can already feel it again, sweetheart,’ he says. ‘You’re close?’
A nod is all I can muster.
My toes curl, my breathing stops and the wave of euphoria washes over me. Tears drip over my face and I whimper: ‘Stop, stop, stop.’
He listens instantly and as the shocks run through my body, the aftermath of my second orgasm, he stills inside of me. ‘Too sensitive?’
‘I’m sorry, but yes.’
‘Don’t be sorry, don’t be,’ he tells me. ‘You did amazing, princess. Want me to pull out?’
I simply nod and I softly sniffle as he does. He’s still hard as a rock and he peels off the condom, throwing it in the bin. I push myself up and give him a kiss. ‘What about you?’
‘It’s okay, sweetheart.’
‘No, I… I can help,’ I awkwardly suggest. ‘I mean, I never done that before and I have no idea how to, but I think I can do it.’
‘You don’t have to.’
‘But I want to.’
He smiles. ‘Well, I can’t compete with that.’ He scoots over to the edge of the bed, gentle pulling me with him. ‘Go sit right there, sweetheart.’ I kneel on the carpet in between his legs and I take a deep breath. He holds my hand, guiding it to his hard member. I wrap my fingers around it, the tips not even touching. He leads the way as to how I need to move my hand. ‘You can squeeze a bit,’ he tells me.
I moisten my lips. ‘Can I?’
He nods. ‘Careful with your teeth,’ he says. ‘And don’t force it, princess.’
I open my mouth and let my tongue circle around his tip, before I wrap my lips around it. It earns me a low and sultry moan, and I look up. ‘Is it okay?’ I ask.
‘It’s perfect.’
As I slowly pump him without any guidance of Walter, I slowly try to get more and more of him inside my mouth. I don’t want my first ever blowjob experience to end with vomit, so I’m not forcing myself in a pornographic kind of way, where I nuzzle my nose into his pubes.
I mean, that would probably be impossible for me anyway.
Walter runs his fingers through my hair, slowly guiding me into bopping up and down. When I hollow my cheeks, the grip on my hair turns a bit harsher. ‘Shit, princess, you sure it’s your first time?’
I softly moan around him and he pulls back my head. With some drool dripping over my chin, I continue to pump him. His grunts fill the room, as warm spurts of cum land on my chest. The tight muscles in his entire body tense up, his hips bucking up to meet my hand. His jaw clenched, muffled groans.
That might’ve been the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
Completely enthralled in Walter, I barely notice that his cum has both painted my chest, but also the lower part of my face. ‘I was not planning on this,’ he chuckles, wiping my chin clean with his thumb. He pushes it passed my lips and I taste the saltiness of his cum on my tongue.
‘Was it good?’ I ask him.
‘It sure was, darling.’ He stands up and pulls me back on my feet. ‘But we do need another shower now.’
✎ ✎ ✎
After a warm shower, we’re securely tucked underneath the blankets. I nuzzle against his naked frame with mine and he holds me tightly against him. ‘Penny,’ he says in a low tone, ‘I am falling in love with you.’
I smile, my heart warming at his lovely confession. ‘I’m falling for you too,’ I say, ‘like head over heels in love with you.’
His grip on me tightens a bit. ‘You know, in a few weeks, we have Christmas break,’ he says. ‘You’ve got any plans?’
‘Originally I wanted to go back to Maryland,’ I say, ‘but my parents probably want me to enjoy the college experience and kinda force me to have fun with friends.’ I let out a soft laugh. ‘As if I have any friends.’
He scoffs. ‘You’ll get the friends you deserve when the time is right, princess. But, just so we’re clear: you and I can spend a lot of time together during Christmas?’
I lean on my elbow so I can look at him again. ‘Of course. What did you have in mind?’
‘A little trip,’ he says. ‘Outside of New York, so we can stop sneaking around for a bit. Where do you want to go?’
‘I don’t mind,’ I say, ‘as long as I’m with— Oh, we could go to Las Vegas.’
He smiles. ‘You want to spend Christmas in Las Vegas?’ he asks.
I tilt my head, all of the sudden not so sure anymore about my Las Vegas idea. ‘Maybe Hawaii then?’
Am I hallucinating or did it just seem like Walter’s eyes turned into little hearts? ‘You’ve got quite the expensive taste, princess.’
Instantly I feel bad. He is obviously gonna pay for a lot of it, since I barely have any money. ‘Oh, sorry. You pick something, something less expensive. I don’t mind where we’re going.’
‘No, no, no,’ he says, ‘Hawaii could actually be it. Want to be surprised or want in on the planning?’
‘Surprised,’ I tell him. ‘Oh my goodness, Walter, this is so exciting. I can’t wait to spend all my time with you.’ I lean in to give him a kiss and he smiles against my lips. ‘I love you,’ I whisper, when he lets me go.
‘You do?’ A cocky grin forms on his lips and he says: ‘I love you more.’ He peppers me with kisses, tickles my sides and my squeals fill the room. ‘I love you so fucking much, I’m never gonna let anything happen to you, okay? You know that right?’
I bite my lip. ‘Of course I know that,’ I whisper, pushing back some of his hair. ‘I’ll forever know it.’
✎ ✎ ✎
The next morning, I see Walter standing in the kitchen, his back turned towards me. I sneak over to him, but he wouldn’t be the detective he is if he didn’t notice me already. ‘Princess, I can hear you.’
I instantly stop tiptoeing. ‘I know,’ I laugh, ‘but it was worth the shot. You’re such a good detective.’
He chuckles, before lifting me up, placing me on the clean counter. He leans over to peck my lips. ‘How are you feeling?’
I nod. ‘I’m good, just… A little sore.’
Walter seems oddly proud of himself. ‘Oh, really?’
‘Yeah, my jaw too.’
He dumps the wooden spatula in the pan, turns the stove down low, before he stands in between my legs, wrapping his arms around my waist. ‘Well, princess, you did great last night. I’m so proud of you.’
‘You liked it?’ I ask, still a little unsure of how I performed last night. I mean, I never done it before and Walter probably had plenty of sex, because hello, have you seen that man? The fact that he wasn’t taken before we met is a miracle to me.
Walter buries his face in my neck, pressing sloppy kisses on my delicate skin as his beard is probably leaving some red marks, but I don’t care. ‘What do you think, princess?’ he asks. ‘Of course I liked it. Heck, I loved it. I love you, Penelope Townsend. I love you and only you. There is no need for you to be insecure.’ The sloppy kisses have moved to my lips, Walter’s parted lips against mine, his tongue exploring mine.
I arch my back, leaning into his touch, but something burns in my heart. Insecurities, that voice that tells me I’m not good enough for him and that last night was terrible. Before I can even stop it, warm tears roll over my face. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper, my voice breaking mid sentence. ‘I don’t know why.’
Walter softly shushes me, whispering it’s okay. ‘It was a lot,’ he says, ‘quite the experience.’ He kisses my tears away and says: ‘Princess, it’s alright, no need to cry, okay?’
‘I’m totally overreacting,’ I hiccup.
‘No, you’re not,’ he retorts. When he sees it’s not working, he pulls my head to his chest, pressing kisses on my hair, before he wraps his arms around my body. ‘How about breakfast first and then a hot shower?’ he suggests.
‘A shower with you?’
‘If you want,’ he says.
I nod. ‘Sounds good to me.’
✎ ✎ ✎
As we’re standing underneath the warm streams of water, Walter massages my scalp as he washes my hair, lathers my body with soap and fantasizes about our future trip together. ‘I can’t wait for you and I to be together for an unlimited amount of time.’
I smile, thinking about the idea of waking up to him, eating breakfast, lunch and dinner with him and walking around, holding his hand. ‘Me neither.’
Slowly but surely, the insane insecurities are something of the past, however I still know that if I think about it too long, my hands start to shake and I overthink it all. Before that can actually happen, Walter makes sure to distract me with kisses, with touches and telling me silly things he wants to do when he and I get to Hawaii.
‘We’re really going to Hawaii?’
‘Of course,’ he says, turning me around so I can look at him. ‘Because Hawaii is a perfect place for us to spend Christmas.’
‘What do I need to wear?’ I ask. ‘I don’t know how warm it is there.’
‘Let’s start with a bathing suit,’ Walter cheekily says, causing me to roll my eyes. ‘Just some light outfits,’ he whispers. ‘Honestly, princess, you look beautiful no matter what you wear.’
‘Is it expensive?’ I ask. ‘A trip to Hawaii.’
‘Don’t you worry your pretty little head over that, I’ve got it covered.’
#henry cavill#henry cavill x ofc#henry cavill x oc#henry cavill fanfic#walter marshall#walter marshall fanfic#walter marshall x ofc#walter marshall x oc#walter marshall x asian ofc#walter marshall x penny townsend#asian ofc#penny townsend#but professor
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Syaoran and Kaito Analysis
So I’ve mentioned recently in a recent fanart and in my analysis of chapter 55, but I have noticed quite a few similarities between Syaoran and Kaito, and upon some observations, I have some theories, particularly in regards to how Kaito views Syaoran. I decided to delve into that a bit, so see under the cut for more! Warning: It’s long. I wrote a lot. >.<
I have a lot to cover, so I thought it might be best to outline in the most simple way possible some things we already know about Kaito.
· He was born gifted with incredible magic. His parentage is unknown and he was “alone for as long as he could remember”.
· It’s unclear where Kaito originated from, but it seems he spent a majority of his life in England.
· He has moon based magic and has a wide variety of talents, but specializes in time magic. It’s unclear if he already had a skill with time magic or if this was obtained after he met Momo. It seems implied that he made a magical contract with her and maybe gained his time abilities from this. But we do know he has the ability to fly, to locate objects, teleport, to talk to animals, and to make something vanish in a mere moment.
· He is also talented in housekeeping skills, such as sewing, cooking, etc.
· He used to be very cold hearted and preferred spending time alone. Kaito changed considerably in personality at some point in his life. It is uncertain exactly what caused this change, but it seems likely that Akiho’s mother was the catalyst for this.
· He is part of a very powerful group of magicians called as we know it ‘The Association’ and is revered as one of its most powerful with the title ‘D’. He recently betrayed them and left, taking Akiho with him.
· He protects and seems to care for Akiho
· He is preparing for an event labeled as “that time” and needs Sakura to create a specific card.
· He is putting himself in extreme physical danger for his goals, seemingly for Akiho’s sake.
· He has been noted as always smiling to ‘hide his pain’.
So when I look at all of these facts about Kaito, I noticed something interesting. Syaoran too could be described by almost all of these things. You might think “Wait a minute Chrissy! Kaito and Syaoran are nothing alike!”, but please hear me out.
Syaoran too was born gifted with incredible magic. He also draws his power from the moon (a connection that has already been pointed out by CLAMP) and has a knack for household skills as well, being very independent from a young age. Like Kaito, he was cold hearted in his earlier years, preferred to be alone (according to Meiling in the original 90’s anime in episode 43), and had a drastic change in personality later on, particularly after meeting Sakura. Syaoran is part of a very powerful group of magicians as well, the Li clan, and is one of the strongest within it and destined to be the next leader. Similarly, Syaoran too is preparing for some kind of event, a future seen by his mother, and is doing everything to prevent this, even if it causes him physical harm (as we’ve seen with him struggling to conjure the Sakura cards). In order to keep Sakura in the dark as to not worry her, he has been using a smile to ‘hide his pain’.
Now you may be wondering “Okay, so they have a few things in common, but they are still completely different!”. And you would be right. They are two completely different people after all, but try to think of them as two sides of the same coin. This beckons another question: How did two people who are so similar turn out so differently?
This is really where their differences in personality shine through, but part of it I believe is due to their backgrounds as well. For example, Kaito was picked up by the Association at a young age due to his skills with magic and was taken in to “use that magical power to accomplish their own tasks”. Based on their record of not having a great reputation, according to Eriol, and their treatment of Akiho by assisting her Clan in turning her into a magical device, it seems likely that Kaito was not treated kindly by anyone in the Association. In fact, he was probably left alone nearly all of the time unless his strengths were needed, and took care of himself in the remainder of that time. He was surrounded by people but still completely alone, and he preferred to be this way. This cold background of his really prevented him from being able to open up his heart to anyone. But he does seem to be much different around Akiho.
Syaoran, on the other hand, was surrounded by loving and caring family members. Although he preferred to be alone in his earlier years, he wasn’t actually alone at all. His mother was protective of him (like cutting his hair until he was strong enough to protect himself from things like scissors near his neck), and his sisters adored him and undoubtedly showered him with love at every opportunity. But even with that love from them, he was still somewhat cold hearted (though not as much as Kaito) until he met Sakura.
Their backgrounds do differ from each other, but I think the biggest difference in them of all is how they handle their feelings. When Syaoran first started to realize his feelings for Sakura, he struggled quite a bit and was in a great amount of denial, even physically running away at times when confronted with them. It was when he finally came to terms with his heart and confessed his feelings to Sakura that he underwent a great change and became the Syaoran we know today.
So what about Kaito?
Well, Kaito I believe is in that same stage of denial where he is refusing to come to terms with his feelings, whatever those may be. It’s clear that he cares about Akiho, but when she or Momo try to have a serious discussion with him or get him to talk about those feelings, he goes out of his way to change the subject (or once with Momo, actually fled at the first opportunity, which is just like Syaoran used to do!). It is something he is clearly uncomfortable with, and I think that is because it is unfamiliar territory for him. He is used to not feeling anything at all, so having to actually think about his feelings and reasons for doing things is unbearably frightening. He can handle any magical opponent any day (except Sakura of course), but being open and honest about his feelings? That’s another battle entirely that he doesn’t know how to handle without his magic to use as a crutch.
Momo mentioned in chapter 39 how Kaito had made a great deal of changes, all so that Akiho could live comfortably and pleaded internally “peer deep inside your heart. And don’t avert your eyes”. This was said again in chapter 51 when she stated “I implore you Yuna D. Kaito. Listen…to your heart”.
In the very next chapter, it is none other than Syaoran who has a discussion with Sakura about how his mother had told him “If you possess great magic power…when you feel pounding and stirring in your chest…you shouldn’t ignore it. You need to listen to your intuition. I think that goes for everyone, magic or no magic. I don’t think anyone should turn a blind eye to their own heart”. We also know that in that same conversation with his mother, thanks to the mini chapter provided with the special edition of volume 9, that Yelan said to him then “If there’s something you want to accomplish, then training with your spells is surely important, but...more than anything else, you have to face your heart”. She went on to tell him how important it was to listen to his heart and that “If you lie to yourself, you will sadden the person who loves you so dearly”.
And that, my friends, is the major reason for Syaoran and Kaito being so different despite their many similarities. One listens to his heart while the other adamantly turns away from it. This leads me to my next topic (thank you for anyone who has read this long into it. I appreciate it!), and that is in regards to Kaito’s feelings about Syaoran.
I have noticed that Kaito in general tends to act quite differently in regards to Syaoran than he does anyone else. It starts at the very first time they met, when they made their introductions. Despite working so diligently to keep himself hidden from Akiho and Sakura, he did the complete opposite with Syaoran. He had to have known that being able to sense his magic and being given his name and title, that Syaoran would go and research who he was. He wanted Syaoran in particular to know who he was, which I believe is also why he allowed him to speak with Eriol initially. I say allowed, because we know he clearly had the potential to cut off communications at any point in time, and he only stepped in to shut this down when Eriol started talking to the others (Kero and Yue). He clearly wanted to control what information people knew about him, and Eriol crossed a line. He also put spells on Syaoran that would not allow him to communicate with others about him, so again showing he wanted him to know about him, but not to be able to tell anyone else about him, especially Sakura.
Another occasion I found intriguing was chapter 34 in the scene with the pool. Kaito stopped time, but for some reason, allowed Syaoran to move freely as well. Why is this? He could have easily frozen Syaoran too, but he made a conscious decision to allow Syaoran to move.
Then we come to perhaps the most telling scene so far, which is the battle he and Syaoran had in chapter 41 and 42. In a moment where he could have easily stopped time and rewound so that Syaoran never approached him, he instead decided to have a full discussion with him and even go as far as to engage in battle with him in stopped time. In this ‘discussion’, he stated several facts that he knew about Syaoran, who was pointedly not responding to them and seemed solely focused on Sakura. Some of the details about him were probably common knowledge to the magical world, but some of them seemed oddly personal, such as him being a ‘diligent student’, as if to show he had been watching him for quite some time.
Something about the interaction was different than others. It was as if he was observing Syaoran in that moment to see how he would react to hearing certain things. He then mentioned after seeing Syaoran use the Sakura cards how rewriting a contract once written takes a toll on even the strongest magician and he said “Is this all…for Sakura too?”. I think what he was trying to say here is that he recognizes the efforts he’s making for Sakura and may even feel a connection to him because of his own efforts for his own wish.
In chapter 42, continuing on with this conversation, Kaito seemed ready to turn back time the moment he realized they were no longer alone and that Sakura was able to move, but he still had more to say. Syaoran reacted to Sakura calling out for him, and it was at this moment that Kaito said “You certainly are honest, aren’t you? One look at your face, and I know exactly what you’re thinking” (even Eriol made several comments about Syaoran’s honesty in the original series). Once again, he’s showing here that he’s observing Syaoran, but why? For what reason does he bring this up? I think he says this because it is something so foreign to him and fascinates him. Kaito is so used to hiding his feelings and being unable to express them, but Syaoran is the complete opposite in the fact that he can so easily show his feelings and it is not his nature to conceal them. Kaito followed this by bringing up that Syaoran had suppressed that honesty when he came to Japan, which we know was through his fake smiles (something he is all too familiar with). Yue also said to Syaoran in chapter 27 that he had been hiding behind a smile and ordinarily was much more unrestrained in how he expressed his emotions, no matter what that emotion may be.
I wonder if Kaito said this because he wondered “how is it that he’s able to be so honest?” or maybe he was trying to show that he understood his reasons for hiding behind a smile, pointing out the similarities between them; that they were not so different despite having different goals. Kaito’s next comment in particular is probably what caught my attention the most. He divulged the detail about how Syaoran suppressed his honesty particularly to try and prevent the future that his mother saw. Even Syaoran seemed surprised by this, and he had good reason to be! This was likely a very personal moment, one he hasn’t even told Sakura about yet, and this implies that he might have been there when this particular moment happened. It makes sense too, considering Akiho had stated in her very first appearance that she was in Hong Kong just before coming to Japan, meaning she and Kaito were certainly there at the same time Syaoran was, at least for a brief time. This means he probably saw all the effort he was putting in for Sakura’s sake and maybe this resonated with him. I think maybe he also saw how his older sisters, even though they had no magic of their own, are treated with respect in the Li clan, unlike Akiho with her own. Kaito has only ever known a world where those who are strong are used and those who are weak are deemed worthless (like Akiho), but yet Syaoran lives in a world where both live harmoniously. Sakura’s world in Tomoeda is the same as well and filled with kindness, far different from any other experience Kaito has had, and this must have been quite the culture shock! But more importantly, Syaoran and Sakura have all the things that he and Akiho never had.
Another interesting thing to note here is that Kaito was supposedly expelled from the association about a year ago due to stealing a powerful magical instrument that was forbidden to be taken (which we now know to be Akiho herself). And guess what else happened about a year ago? About a year ago, Syaoran went back to Hong Kong to handle his ‘important things’. Coincidence? Well, famously CLAMP series often say there is no such thing as coincidence...only hitsuzen.
Just as he is about to send another attack at Syaoran, he talks about how he and Syaoran both do not have the power of divination, but that “it is for the strong to decide…what the future holds in store for us all”. I think what he meant here is “Neither of us know how this is going to turn out, but the both of us are working hard for our own goals, so may the best man win”. However, before he could go any further, Sakura used TRANSFER to switch places, and he is both surprised by this, but quite quickly decides to end things and rewind time at this moment, indicating that he had not really wanted to engage with Sakura at all at this point in time. He had even stated at the beginning of chapter 42 that he had intended to keep her frozen and only have Syaoran able to move, meaning this whole situation had only been kept going for this long so that he could talk to Syaoran.
After rewinding time and talking to Akiho later that evening, he mentioned how Parent’s day was “quite illuminating”. This could have been said about his newfound knowledge of Fujitaka, but I also believe he learned quite a bit from Syaoran as well.
Now we finally get to the more recent chapters, like 54 and 55. While sitting together at the botanical garden, Kaito puts yet another spell on Syaoran to force him to smile against his will to avoid any suspicion. I feel like this was not just to keep the peace but also somewhat of a way to toy with and tease Syaoran. What better way to get under the skin of someone so honest and open with their feelings than to force them to hide these under a smile unwillingly? I think this was the mischievous side of Kaito showing and almost like a big brother teasing a little brother, but unfortunately for him, he pushed things too far with this, and not only did Sakura notice something was wrong, but this allowed the spell to be broken, and Syaoran wasted absolutely zero time saying the things he had been suppressed in saying before.
Cue to chapter 55, our most recent chapter. Sakura has managed to keep herself from being frozen in time, and she starts off with a few basic questions. The first one was if he knew about her being able to use cards. Kaito answered simply “Yes”. But when asked about if he knew about Syaoran, he gave two very specific details about him, particularly that he knew he was a gifted sorcerer and that he was the next head of the Li clan”. He could have just answered yes, the same way he responded in regards to Sakura, but instead he seems to have wanted Sakura to know in that moment that he knows a lot of information about Syaoran and not just that he can use magic. The two then exchange meaningful looks, and it’s right after this that she looks over to Syaoran and Akiho, looking almost worried. Now, it’s not clear what they were both thinking in this moment, and it’s possible that I am overthinking this one, but I find it fascinating that his answer was so detailed here, and I don’t feel like that was for nothing. Ohkawa has always been very thoughtful about the words she writes in her scripts, and I think this is no exception.
Anyways, I feel like we’ll get more definitive answers in the future, but I’m incredibly intrigued to see if there are any further and more concrete connections between them. I feel like CLAMP has done quite a bit to point out similarities between the two, and it should be a wild ride from here on out!!
#cardcaptor sakura#clear card#alaysis#syaoran#kaito#clamp#spoiler#chrissy talks a lot#this was a long one
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Take control of one of 8 Preset Characters as you navigate the cities on Marth (and possibly beyond).
Finitum is an interactive visual novel that combines elements of text-heavy interactive fiction, comics, and sprites set in a scifi-fantasy world.
[ More About the Game ]
* Character appearance & names may change in the coming weeks. The images and text below will be changed accordingly as the character designs are finalized fully. *
" If they have the credits, you’ll do the job, huh? Fair enough. I may not have the credits, but something tells me you’ll still want in on this. If it sweetens the deal, you can take whatever you want from any Omega warehouse or building we hit. "
Born and raised in Marth's capital, Rune has nearly perfected a number of skills that range from pickpocketing to ventriloquism... Some are more useful than others.
Primary Skills: Close Combat, Stealth, Persuasion
Secondary Skills: Hand-to-Hand Combat, Disguise, Acrobatics
[ Character Sheet ]
" I had assumed ‘petty' was a descriptor for the sort of things you were caught selling to a fence in Carina, not a descriptor of your personality. Still, you would be of help if you’re willing. It isn’t like you have anything better to do, right? “
Eli may not remember the majority of his life’s events, but muscle memory and a few flickers of the past are enough to keep him on his feet. With a flare for dramatics, he'll be sure to keep the rest of the team on their toes as well - A fact some might not be all that pleased with.
Primary Skills: Pick-pocketing, Persuasion, Slight of Hand
" The fact I’ve heard of your family would normally be a point of praise, but...well, no. It’s still very impressive. Horrifying, yes, but also impressive. The Outlands provide no shortage of things you can use your ...talents...on, but how would you like to set fire to something bigger and shiner for once? "
No one knows explosives like Bug. Be that for good or ill.
Their family isn’t blood-related, for the most part, but there isn’t a more tight-knit group in The Outlands and it’s always good to have backup.
Primary Skills: Bomb making, Sewing
" It seems The Outlands are the best place to find skills such as yours. I don’t know what’s so appealing about miles of salt and sand, but if you’d like to take a break and see the magnetic concrete and clogged gutters of Pleiade City, then perhaps you’d consider my offer. "
Vi may have served in a Corp Militia in his past. Maybe not. However they came by their skills, there is no one better to turn to if you need something destroyed in a more....subtle way...that doesn’t lead back to you.
Primary Skills: Sabotage, Subterfuge
" Okay, so first of all, that video of you with the ‘zombie' androids? Horrifying. I loved it. Second, how would you like to utilize some similar things against a certain Corp that has plenty of spare cybernetic body parts lying about... ”
Magic may run rampant alongside technology, but it gets a little weird when the two cross paths. Fusing the two in balance is not the most common, or easiest, thing to accomplice, but Pandora has it down to an art.
Primary Skills: Magitech
" Listen, just because I found you doesn’t mean they will. I’m way better at this stuff than they are. How would you like a chance to do them some serious damage? Sure, it won’t make up for all the years of shit, but it might help a little. "
Hiding in Pleiade’s Undercity, Ion has been doing her best to stay under the radar. It’s a little difficult when you have a habit of frying technology of every sort when you get angry, though. Especially when you have a bit of a temper.
Primary Skills: Telekinetic Technomancy (uncontrolled), Diplomacy
Secondary Skills: Weapons Knowledge, Cybernetics Knowledge, First Aid
[ Character Sheet ]
" You’ve been making quite a lot of noise since you got out of that Celestia facility. Aren’t you concerned Omega is going to find you sooner rather than later? I’ve an excellent way to help you stay one step ahead...and I could use your help. You know better than anyone what they’re up to. "
Primary Skills: Sharpshooter, Glitch 'Ghost'
" I know you’d rather stay tucked away in that little bunker of yours, but somehow I doubt steel and concrete will keep Omega out if they find your location. I’ve got a much better idea - one that’ll help you stay one step ahead of them and help you tell everyone exactly what happened in that Celestia facility. "
Primary Skills: Hand-to-Hand Combat, Nova 'Ghost'
While they come from the same clone primary source, Morrow and Marrow don’t have a great deal in common. True, they look disturbingly alike, but when it comes to their personalities...the two have little common ground.
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are you kidding me - peter parker (soulmate!au) part 4
are you kidding me? - peter parker (soulmate!au) - part 4
pairing: peter parker x stark!female!reader summary: during your everlasting rivalry against peter parker, you’re unlucky enough to find out that not only is he spider-man (your dad’s new kid), but he is also your soulmate. god help us all. (soulmate au where you have a mark of where your soulmate first touches you) word count: 969 requested?: yes! warnings: pure teenage angst, a brief mention of smexy themes if u squint, y/n having major commitment issues, sad baby peter a/n: i apologize for the wait! this chapter is highkey garbage but i’m really trying to get back into writing :( shoutout to my girls for helping motivate me ;-; [part 1] [part 2] [part 3]
In the weeks following the patrolling incident, Y/N avoided Peter like the plague. To blame it on trust and abandonment issues, it would never be a fair fight when it comes to her justification. Although she would never admit it, witnessing Peter fall to pieces directly in front of her--half-expecting her to sew him back together--caused her to spiral. She figured, if she never allowed herself to show any vulnerability, Peter would never come to be disappointed with her. The last person she wanted any resentment from, aside from her own father, was Peter. Though this was to contradict their adversarial relationship, Y/N continuously held his opinions to a higher standard than anyone else. Although at this point of their complex relationship, there was truly nothing to hide. Whether it was against his, hers, or the universe’s will, either could hear each other’s thoughts, feel each other’s pain, and understand each other’s sentiments. Despite making it her life’s mission to prevent Peter from ever invading her mind palace, it was essentially impractical to avoid his presence at Midtown. As far as anyone knew, Y/N “Walters” and Peter Parker were “enemies attached at the hip.” Almost enrolled in every AP course possible, participating in the same extracurricular activities, even having the same lunch period made it damn near impossible. Making matters worse, Peter was constantly making an effort to make amends for their less-than-perfect past. Even if their insult guns were cocked and ready, neither party was ready for the cruel and empty words that were thrown at each other. As previously emphasized, the tension that the pair created in the atmosphere was almost overbearing at times. It came to a point in which their peers would create bets on when the “apparent sexual tension” would finally be released--the main perpetrator of such bets being Flash and (at her wit’s end) MJ. Desperately trying to push aside from their individual imperfections, Peter would corner her in the hallways, classrooms, and even her own bedroom to just simply apologize on his own behalf. But that goddamn Stark pride was a worldwide novelty. Y/N, keeping in mind that Peter had already torn into her massive ego, still held her head as high as she could. His criticism fell on deaf ears as she somehow wiggled her way out of every confrontation possible. In school, it was easy to play by the rules of their rivalry. She would always throw the same vicious cycle of signature Stark ™ remarks: “Oh, Pete-y baby, you wanna kiss?”; “Sorry Parker, I’m gonna have to give you blue balls--I have class right now!”; and other snarky comments of the same caliber. However, when it came to the complex--the visits that were few and far between--Peter genuinely had no clue as to exactly how Y/N could avoid him. Usually she would be more than prepared, calling out some sort of security protocol to FRIDAY that would usher him (rather aggressively) out of her room. Sometimes, out of the entire complex until Happy would unlock the door for him. Unfortunately for Peter, once was one too many times for Happy and soon Pepper became his doorwoman. Let it be noted that Peter is a fairly patient person, but when it came Y/N--she tested every nerve in his body. He was never sure why he always felt such animosity towards the Stark daughter, but he physically could not pull the reins on his competitive nature. Mind you, he purely disregarded looks and actual personality (which, trust, Y/N was overflowing in that department) to narrow in on her academic stance compared to his. Now, in the recent turn of events, Peter would take advantage of the rare moments where he could take in her beauty (natural or otherwise). Then, the sudden feeling of rejection would infiltrate any sort of daydream that could possibly gain traction when Y/N would rip herself from his mind. Demanding an obscene amount of space from him, Y/N locked herself away from him--deliberately eliminating any hopes of forgiveness and consolation in the near future. Peter currently sat in his small bedroom, spent from the day’s worth of school and patrolling. Thankful for the lack of crime within the day, he was sprawled on top of his twin-size mattress and still was attempting to catch his breath from the brief altercation he experienced before he finished patrolling for the afternoon. It was yet another attempted robbery, but it was somehow smaller than the encounter from a few weeks prior. Peter stared at his ceiling, trying to devise the best way to confront Y/N and otherwise figure out their soulmate connection.
Please don’t do this right now, Peter.
Wha--I wasn’t doing anything--
How do you repeatedly forget that I can hear you? Even if you think that you are dialing it down, it’s still loud and clear--constantly present in my mind.
Y/N continued as Peter did not respond.
Look, Peter, I want this to work out as much as the next person...but I honestly cannot find it in me to push aside everything that we’ve been through together. I don’t want to damage you, Peter. I don’t know how you are trying to go about this...I’ve always known you to be persistent with seeing the best in people, but I am, honest to God, the last person you should spare with optimism. So, if you really want to care about me, don’t try to talk to me, don’t look my way, and certainly don’t want to come to the compound.
And, in one final sentence, Y/N shattered the last resort of their potential relationship.
I’m sorry, Peter, but I can’t do this.
Without a second to respond, Y/N cut herself out from Peter’s mind.
taglist: @mega-bi @lordofblamo @sadstrudel @ispiderdudei @everythingsship @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @annathesillyfriend @mybitchborky @randxmthxughts @dear-selena @holaamishamigos @reveluvspecial @andreasworlsboring101 @marvellover1819
#peter parker#spiderman#peter parker angst#peter parker imagine#soulmate!au#tom holland#tom holland imagine#peter parker fluff#peter parker smut#tom holland fluff#imagine#spiderman imagine#tom holland angst#tom holland x reader#peter parker x reader#spiderman x reader#stark!reader#fem!reader#angst#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel imagine
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The Breeze from an Airplane
MAJOR SPOILER WARNINGS FOR CHAPTER 138/139 AOT MANGA
MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING: death, graphic images
Read on AO3
Pairing: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoe
Summary: Levi never thought the day would come where he had to relive the one of the most tragic moments of his life. He had finally begun to recover from Hange Zoe's tragic, sacrificial death. Now, two men stand at his door."We found Commander Hange's body."
Words: 4955
Levi received the worst news that evening. It was an inconvenient time to bear bad news, around 7pm. That was the time for Levi’s tea. It was usually a time for him to relax and unwind, but not tonight. The kettle was whistling; the tea was finished brewing. Levi had come out of the study and into the kitchen to retrieve the boiling water. Then, there was a knock at the door. It was strange. Usually, no one would come this late at night to bother him. He assumed it would be Armin coming to check up on him. He usually wrote to him as to when he would be stopping by. He hobbled to the door, feeling more apprehensive than he probably should’ve felt. He looked through the peephole in the door. Two men were dressed in suits. One wore round glasses, the other none. They must’ve had the wrong house.
“Mr. Ackerman,” The one with the glasses called out, knocking loudly again. Levi groaned, opening the door.
“What do you want?” Levi said, leaning against the door for support and crossed his arms. He forgot to bring his cane. The one with no glasses held a manila folder under his arm. The one with glasses wore a frown on his face. Levi’s eyes darted between the two of the mens’ faces.
“Mr. Ackerman. Good evening. We have some news for you.” The tone of his voice was neutral, as if they weren’t sure if it was good or bad news. His heart sank into his stomach, making him sick. What was it now? Haven’t I been through enough?
“We found Commander Hange’s body.”
It felt like two strong hands were slowly and steadily ripping his heart apart, every muscle, every nerve, every artery and vein came apart, leaking blood into each individual body cavity. His body began to feel heavy, blood leaking and drowning his body to its maximum. He had finally, finally, began to recover from losing her. Now, he was back to square one. He was brought back to that day on Odiha.
-
“And that’s that. I’ll see you guys later,” Hange said firmly, turning around to walk away. She called out to Armin.
“Oh, right. Levi’s your subordinate now, so work him to the bone. Okay?” Armin and the other’s faces read horror. Hange began to walk away from the group. As her decision began to settle with her, she felt herself begin to panic. She walked a bit before finding Levi. She didn’t intend to find him. She was scared to face him. She was scared to go. She didn’t let that show to Armin and the others, of course. She allowed her forced neutral expression transition into a deep frown. She felt her heart ache in her chest, and adrenaline began to pulse through her veins. As Hange forced her legs towards Levi, he called out.
“Hey, four-eyes.” She swallowed, feeling a lump form in her throat. He hadn’t called her that since she became Commander. She walked up to him, her shoulders in line with his. Hange wasn’t sure if she could look him in the eye, for her resolve could’ve broken at any time.
“You understand…” Hange began. He did understand, but he couldn’t accept what was doomed to happen, though. “It’s finally here. You know? ...It’s my turn.” Levi felt his heart ache. It seemed like all his senses shut down. The world had stopped around them. He wished to go back in time to the forest. Why couldn’t they have more time? Why did they have to meet in such unfortunate circumstances? It was pointless getting attached; He fell for Hange regardless, even though falling in love was suicide in the Survey Corps. Comrades, friends, and family died left and right. They were so close to freedom, to a peaceful life together that it physically pained him. He wished him and Hange forgot about the cruel world, even just for a little while. He was drowning in his pain at that time, but Hange helped him up to the surface. She was gentle when she sewed his face. Determined when she swam away with him to safety. Caring when she told him he didn’t need to get up. She protected him; this would be the third time he was saved by her. She was breaking his heart, well… whatever was left of it. He felt as if Hange herself shoved her hand into his chest, tearing his heart out.
“I want to look as cool as I possibly can right now. So please let me go.”
He thought it was very like Hange to say something like that. She wanted to look cool. She was still, even at this treacherous moment, trying to make light of the situation. But Levi could tell Hange was petrified. He couldn’t hold her back. He knew he could’ve easily changed her mind or broken her resolve, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. He knew she had to go. He knew this day would come... but never did he believe it’d be so soon.
‘Please let me go.’ Those would haunt him for the restless nights to come.
He couldn’t think of what to say. He wanted to confess to her. To the person who has been by his side since day one. They have been there for each other no matter what. Levi fell for Hange every time he saw her.
I love you, he wanted to say.
I need you, he wanted to say.
Please, don’t go, he wanted to say.
But that would’ve been selfish. He couldn’t be selfish now. He had to be strong for her.
He raised his left hand and formed a fist. He struck it against her chest. Against her heart.
I dedicate my heart to you.
“Dedicate your heart,” He said, as strong as he could manage. He heard her breath hitch for a moment. Hange’s lips trembled. She knew what he meant. I love you, I need you. I dedicate my heart to you. Take my heart with you. Before her resolve was dissipated, she mustered up a laugh.
“Haha! That’s the first time I’ve heard you say that,” She said aloud. Her ODM gear zipped, and she was gone. There was a breeze that passed as she flew away. She took his heart with her. His chest was hollow. What she said was true: It’s the first time she heard him say it, but it’s also the first time he said it ever.
He had tried to reach Hange telepathically. She must’ve been too focused on the task at hand to respond. He saw her killing Colossal titans left and right as she flew through the sky. He was so proud of her. “You know I love you, right?” He told her as he hobbled onto the plane. “I will be forever in debt to you.” Deep down, he knew she heard him.
The plane took off. Levi couldn’t bring himself to look out the window like his comrades. They were screaming Hange’s name, crying, wishing it didn’t have to end like this. He didn’t want to remember Hange as she died. He remembered her as the strong, intelligent, brave Commander she had always been. He remembered her gentle touch when she wrapped his hands. He squeezed his bandaged hands together, reminiscing of his Hange.
“See you, Hange. Keep watching us.”
-
Levi passively allowed the two men into his house and shut the door behind them. The two men sat down at his dining table. Levi used his cane to assist him to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of his favorite evening tea. It steeped too long; however, and it had turned sour. His lips puckered, pouring out the tea into the sink. He walked to the table and sat down. He stared blankly into the white linen table cloth.
“It’s up to you, Mr. Ackerman, whether or not you’d like an open casket. The body isn’t in good shape, I’ll be honest with you.” The body. That’s all it was to them. Hange’s dead body. She is a person one minute, a body the next. The two men must’ve delivered this news a thousand times to other distraught family members. Their tone expressed no sympathy whatsoever. All they cared about was business. “We will escort you to the morgue so you can see for yourself.” The morgue. He forced himself to nod, even though agreeing to see her body was asking for torture.
“If you choose, you’d have to hold the wake soon. The preservation chemicals can only hold for a few days before the body begins to --”
“I get it,” Levi interrupted with a shaky voice. He couldn’t let them finish that sentence. He would’ve broken down right there. He used his cane to push himself onto his two feet. “I’ll get Onyankapon.” He slowly hobbled into the back room where Onyankapon was. He was very torn up about Hange, too. Levi knew they were close. He was in his desk chair, reading. He saw Levi right as he entered, his presence altering the mood of the room from calm to anguish.
“Two men are here. They found Hange’s body,” Levi muttered, unable to make eye contact with his roommate. Onyankapon’s face turned sour and he stood up. “They’re gonna take us to see her.”
-
The ride to the morgue was quiet. Quiet was an understatement. It was mute, void of any sound. No one spoke. No one dared to put the music on in the vehicle. The streets were quiet. It was late in the evening when the bearers of bad news arrived at their place. It was cold. No one was walking about the town. The morgue, as it turns out, wasn’t far away. This made Levi shudder. Her body was so close to him in proximity. Her dead body.
They arrived at the morgue, Onyankapon got out of the vehicle first to help Levi. He submissively accepted his help following the two men inside. As they neared her room, Levi felt his heart begin to pump faster. He didn’t know what she would look like. How did she really die? Was she trampled? Burned alive? Both? He was starting to ask himself why he agreed to this. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t think he could handle seeing her again. Seeing her body again, after all this time had passed. He stopped dead in his tracks. The two men continued walking and reached the room, but Onyankapon stopped.
“Levi,” he said. He tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. “We should do this.” Levi could tell he was anxious too. That comforted him, in a strange way.
Levi kept telling his legs to move, and finally they listened.
“The body was in bad shape when we found it. We were able to reconstruct what we can, but without knowing what she looked like prior to the incident, she may not look the same.” Reconstruct? Just how bad was it? One of the two men held the door open. Onyankapon allowed Levi to see her first. He wasn’t sure if that was a good idea or not once he walked into the room. Levi and the man with glasses entered the room. It was a shabby room with peeling grey wallpaper. The overhead light buzzed annoyingly. The room was very cold. In the center of the room was the body, covered with a light blue drape. At the foot of the bed, it read “Hange Zoe.”
“Whenever you’re ready,” he said monotonously, holding the edge of the drape. Levi could always sense when Hange was around. She was right there, yet he couldn’t sense her presence. Levi took a deep, quivering inhale. He would never be ready, but he nodded anyways. It seemed like the man pulled the drape off her face in slow motion. He was shaking. Horrified of what could be. Once the drape was off, the man left the room, closing the door. Levi's eyes were fixated in the corner of the dim, grey room. He couldn’t bring himself to look at first. He didn’t want to look, but he wanted to look so bad. He wanted her to be alive.
It was worse. Much, much worse than he thought.
Now he knew what they meant by reconstruct. Her body was extremely flat. Her skull must’ve been crushed in, but whoever fixed her up must’ve reconstructed her skull so her face was somewhat normal again. The oxygen seemed to be sucked out of the room; He felt himself desperately gasping for air once he saw her face. His knees buckled underneath him, and he fell at the bedside, his head resting on the tops of his hands, hot tears gushing uncontrollably from his eyes. A strangled sound escaped from his lips. When he managed to look at her face through glassy eyes, he was taken aback. Right away he noticed her nose was different. From the side, it looked reconstructed to be turned-up, which did not suit Hange at all. It looked nothing like Hange, yet so much like her at the same time. Her skin was dark red and brown, charred from the steam of the colossal titans. It was dry and peeling around her eyes, nose, cheeks, and chin. There were multiple blisters scattered over her head and neck. Her eyes were closed, but her eyelashes and eyebrows were fried off. The hair on her head, the hair he loved so much, was thin, sparse, and ratty. Most of it had burnt off too. Her eyepatch must’ve been lost, exposing the scar tissue of her left eye. She must have suffered. No doubt about it. He hated the thought of her suffering. It made the tears flow harder. This was the woman he loved; Now a dead, lifeless corpse.
He moved the drape out of the way to look at her hands. They were burnt, too. Skin and muscle burnt, bones broken. He was almost positive every bone in Hange’s body was broken. Her body was frail. So still. It seemed so strange for her to be so still. It was so unlike her. Usually, she could never stay still. She was never quiet, always being the brightest and loudest in the room. He enjoyed it; it was strangely comforting. He never knew how much he loved it until it was gone. The humming of the overhead light fills the room. She was dead, and that was for certain.
“Hange,” He whimpered, looking in his lap. Tears wet his lap. “You weren’t able to stay out of the action after all.” He was so proud of his Commander. She sacrificed herself for him and their comrades without hesitation. She sacrificed her life for his. His life was worth so damn much to her that she would die for him. She did die for him.
Levi wiped his eyes and cheeks with his shirt, causing his sleeve to dampen. He stood up. He gently placed his left fist against her broken chest.
“My heart is yours.”
He was still bugged by how still Hange’s body was. He wanted to tell her to wake up. Join me. Live with me. Be with me. He allowed his selfish thoughts to take over for just a brief moment. Onyankapon knocked on then opened the door slowly, checking in on Levi. His eyes quickly jolted from Levi to the corpse on the table. Tears welled up in his eyes instantaneously as he rushed to the other side of her.
“God, Hange,” He sighed, his voice shaking. “What happened to you…” He wasn’t able to drown himself in his feelings after she was left on the island. He had to man the plane. He had to shift the plane into motion and into the air, leaving his close friend behind to die. All the suppressed emotions came flowing out of him when he saw her burnt body.
After a few minutes passed, the two distraught men came out of the room.
“We decided on a closed casket,” Levi muttered. He couldn’t let the other’s see her like this.
“Okay. There is a funeral home just down the block which--”
“That’s fine.”
“Okay…” One of the men scowled. “How is two days from now?”
“That’s fine.”
One of the men smiled insincerely with a nod. “It’s settled. 5pm.”
-
Two days was more than enough time to contact the 104. Everyone was quick to accept the invite. Levi didn’t know if he could do it. If he could go through all this pain again. He had laid his suit out neatly on his bed.
Today’s the day you are put to rest, Commander.
He picked up his white button-down, sliding his arms through the sleeve holes. He remembered how Hange used to get ready with him from time to time.
-
“Hange,” Levi called out, storming over to her. “Your shirt isn’t even buttoned right. I know you can barely see as it is but damn, I didn’t think your eyesight was this bad.”
He started to unbutton her top. He noticed Hange’s cheeks flush a bit. Once he got to the top, he began to button it correctly.
“Sorry. I am in a rush to get to a meeting,” she would say.
Levi shook his head. “You can’t go like this.”
“What would I do without you?” Hange would say, laughing.
What would I do without you? he now asked himself.
-
His shirt was buttoned up to the top. He grabbed his cravat, tucking it into his collar. He sat down to put his trousers on. He took a deep breath. Putting pants on was always a struggle each morning. His legs barely worked on their own anymore. Onyankapon suggested a wheelchair, maybe he should finally submit to the offer.
He leaned down to put his socks and dress shoes on. For the most part, the only time he wore a suit was to funerals or memorials. He disliked the suit, but now he hated it. He hated the reason he had to wear it.
He went to grab his suit jacket when he paused. He turned to his closet, deciding to wear the black jacket him and Hange shared. She had worn it last. He had tried not to wear it so the scent wouldn’t dissipate. He held it to his face, taking a sentimental whiff of her scent. It smelt of fresh soil and a hint of sweat. There was a special scent he couldn’t quite place, but it was Hange’s signature scent. Maybe it was the detergent she used or the soap she used (or didn’t use) in the shower, but it was her. He hadn’t smelt the jacket since she died, but he couldn’t help himself anymore. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he felt as if he could sob right then and there. He slid the jacket on him, the jacket being slightly too big for him but he didn’t care. He put his thumb and fingers to the lateral part of his eyes, squeezing inward. He silently sobbed. He was allowed to; no one was around.
After a few moments passed, he took a sharp inhale and closed his eyes slowly. He was starting to question why he had agreed to hold a funeral for her. It was for them, the 104. He patted his eyes with a tissue, took another deep breath, and then went to the living room. Onyankapon was shuffling through a box.
“Ready?” He asked. Levi nodded.
“What’s with the box?” Levi asked, turning the door knob and opening the door.
“Some of Hange-san’s belongings from the accident. Those two men dropped this off last night.”
“I see.”
He decided he shouldn’t go through it now. He would get too worked up. Besides, her clothes were probably burnt and unsalvageable anyways. Onyankapon popped open a wheelchair, gesturing for Levi to sit down. Levi could barely walk, let alone stand, anymore. He hobbled over and slowly sat down, groaning slightly. Onyankapon wheeled him outside, shutting the door. Outside were the same two men, ready to escort Levi and Onyankopon to the funeral home. They were standing in front of a long, black limousine. One of the back doors was opened. As he was wheeled to the car, Levi glanced to his left and saw the hearse. It was black and had small, purple, velvet curtains behind the windows. She was in there. Levi couldn’t look away even though he wanted to. Levi felt tears start to pool in his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. He stood up, getting into the black vehicle. Onyankapon folded up the wheelchair and got in beside him.
Like the ride a few days ago, no one spoke. It was mute. Levi’s stomach churned each time he thought about having to see the 104 again, talking about their lost Commander. Within 10 minutes, they arrived at the funeral home. There were a ton of people standing outside the funeral home, chatting amongst themselves and waiting to get inside. Levi stopped frowning. All these people were here to see Hange. It made his heart swell. The car stopped and was parked. The man with the glasses opened the door on Levi’s side, helping him out. The wheelchair was already propped open for him. Levi sat and he was wheeled to Onyankapon. He saw familiar faces: Mikasa, Armin, Gabi, Falco, Jean, Connie, Annie, Reiner… These people really cared about her, he thought. His stomach wasn’t hurting anymore.
Onyankapon and Levi were allowed into the funeral home first with the two men. It reeked of stale flowers. There was a beautiful gold chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the entryway that glistened when the sun shone on it. The carpet had a red and burgundy checkered pattern. He stared at it as he was pushed to Hange’s service room. They finally arrived. There were rows and rows of metal chairs lined up, facing right, to the casket. Casket. That word right there almost made Levi lose it. There were beautiful flowers of all colors surrounding the casket. Yellow, red, pink, purple. Hange loved flowers, especially bright ones. It was very fitting. The casket was a rich dark mahogany color with a thick golden railing on either side. It was tragically beautiful. There was a small red velvet cushion on the floor in front of the casket for people to pray. There was a black and white banner that hung above the casket. “14th Commander of the Survey Corps,” It said in small text towards the top. “Hange Zoe,” it said in big text underneath. Levi admired it for a while. He was curious who set all this up. Could it have been Onyankapon? The 104? He made a mental note to find out and thank them. Levi was facing the casket now. Levi pushed off the armrests and kneeled on the semi-hard cushion. Onyankapon kneeled next to him. Levi wasn’t one to pray, but figured now may be a good time to start. He laced his fingers together, pressing his forehead against his thumbs and closed his eyes.
Dear Hange, thank you for saving my shitty life. Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I am so proud of you... I miss you every day. Are you still watching me? At that moment, someone must’ve opened a window because he felt a gentle breeze pass by him, caressing his face as it wooshed by. This caused Levi to open his eyes and look behind him. There was one big window, but it was locked shut. Levi took a deep breath, smiling. Rest easy, four-eyes.
He pushed himself to stand, then sitting back in the wheelchair. Onyankapon finished his prayer, a tear streaming down his face. The two men recognized they were done and allowed the rest of the visitors inside. The doors to her room opened, people started flooding in. Levi took this time to wheel himself over to the brown cork board that hung on the left side of the room. It contained photos of Hange. For the most part, he recognized the photos. There was one in specific he never saw before though, and it wasn’t on the board either. It was a large portrait of Hange in a dark wood frame that sat on an easel. He admired this photo the longest. It must’ve been painted of her when she had just become Commander. She had her beautiful chestnut hair up in her typical ponytail (which was neater than usual), her black eyepatch on, her thin oval glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, and she wore her olive green Survey Corps jacket. She wore the oval green stone around her neck, which sat at the top of her chest. There was a hint of a smile in the photo, even though the painter insisted she kept a straight face. Hange persuaded him to make her smile in the portrait, though. Levi thought she looked breathtaking.
He felt a hand gently touch his shoulder. He tensed slightly, turning around. He saw Armin and Annie together. They were both dressed well and teary-eyed.
“It’s good to see you Levi. We are sorry for your loss,” Armin said, shaking Levi’s hand and placing his other hand on top of his. Afterwards, Armin stuck a hand in his pocket.
“You, too. Thanks,” Levi replied.
“Hange-san handed me this after she made her decision to stay behind,” Armin explained, handing Levi an envelope which was folded in half. “It was addressed to you.” Levi took it from the new Commander, turning it to see the envelope addressed to “Levi” in Hange’s handwriting.
“Thank you, Armin,” Levi nodded at him.
“What do you think of the flowers?” Annie asked, sitting down in the front row of metal chairs. Levi looked towards the flowers again.
“Hange would’ve loved them,” he replied. Annie smiled sadly. “She would have.”
Mikasa came up behind Armin, giving a small wave to Levi. Armin stepped out of the way, allowing Mikasa to pass. She took both his hands into hers, looking into his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Levi,” She whimpered, her eyes tearing up. She felt at fault for Hange’s death. She thought maybe she could’ve saved her, but didn’t. The truth is, Levi didn’t blame anyone specifically for her death. “If you need anything, I’m here for you.” Deep down, he knew usually no one actually reached out for help from others. He appreciated the offer, though.
“Thank you, Mikasa,” he replied.
As the lot of people passed by to visit Hange, Levi grew sick of the apologies. He appreciated them, but he couldn’t bear seeing everyone’s sad faces anymore. It made him feel worse. He told Onyankapon he was going outside for some air. The stale flower stench was starting to sink into his clothes and skin. He wheeled himself out of the room, down the hall, and through the doors. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, shining beautiful shades of pink and red throughout the city. He took the envelope out of his pocket, slowly but surely unfolding the letter. He began to read.
Dear Levi,
You will receive this for one of two reasons: one, I am dead; or two, I worked up the courage to personally hand it to you. I hope it’s the latter. I know I am being selfish when I say this, but I wish we stayed in the forest together a little while longer. I began to write this after that day.Currently, you are asleep in the carriage I built. I stopped to make dinner for us. I barely had time, but I had to get my thoughts in writing.
I think I am going to die soon. So, I had to tell you how I felt before I go. I know my time is coming up very fast, and I am not afraid to die. That is what we signed up for when we joined the Survey Corps, after all. What is bothering me is when. I wish it’d be peaceful in a warm, comfortable bed. I doubt that, though. If it’s true, maybe we would be living together. Isn’t it true that if you live with someone for a long time, you’re considered married by common law? I wouldn’t mind being married to you, Levi. I wouldn’t mind waking up every morning and you’re nearby. I wouldn’t mind spending every day with you. We could explore the world together. Leave these walls in the past and be free, together. I can study vegetation, you can open the tea shop you’ve always dreamt about. Maybe I’d discover new plants and food for us to try. Or maybe I’d work to create inventions. Maybe I’d create a new type of food or plant. Maybe I’d invent a more efficient flying boat. Well… whatever I do, I hope it’s with you. Even if I am gone when you read this, live your life. Explore the world. I’ll be right by your side. I promise.
Always yours,
Hange Zoe
Levi held the letter close to his heart. His heart was throbbing and felt like it would burst out of his chest. Tears were flowing uncontrollably down his cheeks and into his lap. He folded up the letter, careful not to rip it. He slid it into the envelope, sticking it in the inside pocket of his, their, jacket. He looked up to the beautiful pink sky and saw a flying boat pass by, buzzing in the air.
I’ll be right by your side. I promise.
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