#simply starstruck [ship things]

[starcrossed--lovers]

Love letters 💌

Reblogs are appreciated! S/I (left) uses He/Him, Childe (right) uses He/Him <3

[castiwls]

"your my brother till the end of times. even after that"

Being anakin skywalker’s younger sister...

Note; this is incredibly long and goes through all the prequels. my requests are open

You’re two years younger than him meaning you both grew up veryyy close.

He would teach you how to build and fix things whenever the shop was quieter. He let you help with building threpio.

“The blue one goes here, see.” Your brother turned his head to grin at you. You nodded at him from over his shoulder. “Soooo the red one goes there?” You questioned pointing to another spot on the torso. Your brother smiled brightly at you and nodded. “Yeah, see not so hard.”

Over time you got better and better until you were almost just as good as your brother at fixing things.

You were 7 when a strange man showed up asking for parts to fix his ship. While your brother seemed intrigued by the girl who was with him, you were very much intrigued by the tall man with the strange accent.

When he told you he was a Jedi you were almost star-struck. Your mother had told you stories about them but to actually meet one was amongst your wildest dreams.

You were even more starstruck when one night he found that not just your brother but you also were force-sensitive. This led to your brother winning yours and his freedoms in the race.

Though this meant you had to leave your mom :( 

You still had your brother though.

Your first time in space was something you’d never forget. You spent most of the trip back to Coruscant planted in front of one of the windows.

Halfway through the trip the other Jedi who Qui-Gon had introduced you to as Obi-Wan joined you by the window. 

He told you about the order and about Coursant.

“What is it like?” You turned your attention from the window to look at the man beside you. “What is what like?” Obi-Wan asked looking down at you. “Coursant,” You frowned thinking for a moment. “I heard a smuggler say it was like a concrete jungle. I’ve never seen a jungle though.” The Jedi let out a small laugh. “Well there are lots of buildings but I'm not sure about the jungle part.”

You decided you liked him pretty quickly and stuck by his side for the rest of the trip. 

(time skip)

After Qui-Gon’s death, both you and your brother were slightly worried about your future with the Jedi. While Obi-wan took on your brother another Jedi stepped forward to take you.

You and Anakin stayed close over your time in the order. You noticed the way your brother's temper could flare at times but put it down to stress.

You were off planet when Anakin told you he was going back to Tatooine to see your mom. You decided to follow him.

Finding out she had remarried was a shock but you were glad that she had gotten out of slavery.

Anakin confided in both you and Padme that he’d killed the Tuskans after finding your mother. 

“You killed them?” You stared at your brother, a slight feeling of horror running through you. You could feel his anger through the force, it sent chills through your body. Anakin nodded his face hard as he looked between you and Padme. He’d killed them out of anger yes but fear also. What if they came after you? 

You were concerned but due to your mom's death being so raw you kept your mouth shut about what Anakin had done. You didn't wanna risk losing him. 

After your mom's death, Anakin seemed to hang around you more, even more so when he was knighted.

Obi-wan noticed your brother’s change in behaviour when it came to you. Anakin would try and take you off solo missions or force himself onto your missions once you were knighted and given your own battalion in the war.

He eventually questioned you but you simply brushed it off as him just being nervous.

“He’s not used to me doing things alone.” You shrugged looking over to the man who was walking beside you. “You're not alone though, you have a battalion with you. Your brother needs to let go of this fear, it's not healthy.”

Because of Anakins behaviour, you started to get put on more missions with him and Obi-Wan. You didn’t mind though.

You were the only person aware of Anakin and Padme’s marriage and as a result her pregnancy. You were ecstatic that you were gonna be an aunt.

You helped with the naming process for the baby(s). 

During this time you noticed Anakin was spending more time with the Chancellor, something which raised a few red flags. Padme confided in you about his behaviour change, she’d noticed him becoming more on edge with each passing day.

You tried to talk to him but he just brushed you off claiming it was just the stress from the war.

“You're acting different. You can talk to me you know, im your sister.” You bumped his shoulder smiling slightly. Anakins smile in return was weak. He took a breath. “I keep having these dreams. Dreams where Padme dies in childbirth.” He looked down at you, his eyes desperate. “I can’t let that happen. I can’t lose her.”

After that conversation, you kept a closer eye on him. You could see his stress levels rising with his dream and the council not granting him the rank of Master.

Things seemed to calm down for a small while until things changed. When order 66 was called you’d been in the temple doing reports.

The sounds of blasters pulled you from your data pad. Your eyebrows furrowed as the door to the archives flew open. “Anakin?” Your brother's face was hard as he pulled you from your chair. He said nothing as he led you down the hallway towards his quarters. You watched in horror as blaster fire rang out around you but he refused to stop. Finally reaching his quarters the door flew open. “Stay here. I’ll come back when it’s safe.”

You were slightly scared and very confused as you tried to make sense of what you’d seen. The clones had turned but why?

You also realised very quickly that your brother had locked you in his room:)))

Luckily you had your comn and managed to make contact with Obi-Wan. After awhile he and Yoda deemed it safe enough to go back to the temple.

At this point, he’d seen your brother pledge his allegiance to Palpatine but had no idea how to break the news. 

When he did tell you it was as if your whole world crashed down. He locked you in his quarters to keep you away while he killed the Jedi in the temple.

You chose not to go to Mustafar and instead stayed with Bail. He explained to you Padme’s plan to start a rebellion against the chancellor and offered you a space if you wanted. You agreed.

“She was right. This was his plan all along.” Your head rested on your hand as you sniffled slightly. “He was always gonna overthrow the republic.” Bail nodded rubbing a hand on your shoulder. “If the council didn’t see it how were you supposed to.” He let out a sigh pushing the data pad closer. “But we don’t have to sit and watch.”

You freaked when Obi-Wan and Padme came back without Anakin. You gathered what had happened to your brother simply from the look Obi-wan gave you as he carried Padme off the ship.

Having to watch her die without being able to hold her children. You were able to barely keep it together while the droids checked the babies over.

“They were both so excited.” You smiled sadly down at the baby in your arms. Luke grabbed at your thumb making a small noise. “There never gonna get the chance to raise their kids.” Obi-wan let out a sigh reaching over to pull you into a hug. At this, you finally broke down. All the emotions that you’d been hiding broke free as you sobbed.

They decided to give you the final say on where the twins ended up. You knew Bail would take care of Leia and while you wanted to keep Luke you knew it wasn’t practical. 

You ended up going with Bail back to Alderaan where you both began building the foundations for the rebellion. 

[utilitycaster]

Sort of related to the post about people coming in for shipping but something that’s struck me, as actual play fandom has spread, is that there is a certain lack of genre awareness currently - not just surrounding Critical Role, to be honest; it’s a frustration for me for the conversation surrounding Dimension 20 and Worlds Beyond Number for a while as well.

Take fate, for example. The idea of fate, whether it’s as specific as an ancient prophecy, or as broad as the general concept of destiny, is absolutely at the core of so many classic fantasy series that to be vehemently opposed to it within Critical Role is to display profound ignorance of the genre of fantasy. It’s akin to showing up to a sporting event and getting mad that people are running around in athletic gear; it’s like going to an Italian restaurant in the US and screaming in the face of the waiter when they give you bread and olive oil. There is not, per se, a required reading list. You do not need to read nor watch all of Lord of the Rings let alone consider it a formative work; Sam Riegel and Aabria Iyengar sure haven’t. But if you are not familiar with the genre at all, at the very least you do need to come with a certain awareness that you are not familiar with the genre and be open to its conventions. And to be clear: it’s valid to hate the theme of things being fated. But again, that’s like hating they serve bread and olive oil at the Italian restaurant; you should probably simply not go to Italian restaurants.

Another example that is my personal source of irritation is the obsession with radiation as a factor in Burrow’s End. Setting aside my original irritation at just good old-fashioned lack of reading comprehension with the conflation of the poison and the Blue/the Light, the idea that the intelligence was induced by radiation is really…not genre aware. Like, I recognize I’m coming at this with rather more knowledge than average (from a scientific rather than genre-aware perspective no less) but to get back to genre, I take no issue with, say, radiation in comic books. I know the premise of Spider-Man or of Doctor Manhattan’s origins is absolutely ridiculous; but that’s the genre. Radiation in comic books exists to be an easy origin story so we can get to the point of “here’s a guy with powers”. However, in a show that derives its narrative language from Watership Down and Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh, the idea that the magic and the lightning and the source of intelligence are radiation makes little sense. Another example is the weird response to Skip in Starstruck; the idea of an alien brain parasite like that is so genre-typical to space opera it feels like, again, someone going to an Italian restaurant, pointing at the bread, and saying “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? HOW DARE YOU!”

I think my particular frustration with both of the above (and when I talk about Worlds Beyond Number) is that those people ignorant of genre and not letting it wash over them a la Sam will often fall back to the real world (although, unfortunately, not when it comes to radiation) when trying to make sense of the narrative without the signposts, language, and tropes of the genres to which they belong. To understand the subversions or deconstructions that are likely to occur in, for example, the upcoming exploration of the Citadel in Worlds Beyond Number, you need to be open to the idea that it is a complicated place and not simply The Evil Empire That Suvi Will Definitely Leave; if you’re utterly suspicious of everyone and refuse to try to understand why this is a place people enjoy let alone will die for, you can’t actually experience the story. We are going into the Citadel arc; these wizards will be humanized, and if you have closed off your mind to them already you have set yourself up to be miserable. I do think it’s great that actual play has found an increasingly large audience, but the medium of actual play also carries a certain lexicon and ignorance of it will skew one’s interpretations. My personal bugbear here is of course interpreting bog-standard tanking strategies as either romantic or self-sacrificial in intent, but in general, any resistance to the mere concept of gaining power, the existence of concrete deities, combat, and the placement of plot above romance in D&D are all signs of this ignorance. And again: ignorance is fine! But with all of the above there also often comes this entitlement to a story that is familiar, in blatant disregard for those parameters of genre and medium, and I have to wonder, again, why people mad that a fantasy story is leaning heavily on fantasy story norms, or why D&D has combat, are still showing up to the fantasy D&D story. To return to the Italian restaurant, which is getting a lot of terrible patrons in this metaphor, it feels like a lot of people are showing up to this restaurant because they heard it was good, but then becoming furious it won’t serve them peanut butter and jelly. People who are not familiar should still be welcome, but that lack of familiarity needs to be accompanied by an openness and desire to learn, rather than the entitlement that is so often present.

[second-axis-point]

Pairing: Din Djarin x Male!Reader

Warnings: None!

Content: Fluff, Touch-Starved Din Djarin 

I know this is really sloppy but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Thank you for the request!! (I will never deny a Din Djarin request 😤💙)

Your Touch

When Din looked over at you, he saw the starstruck look you had in your eyes every time you looked out of the cockpit window. You had Grogu on your lap. He was giggling and messing with the buckles of your armour. You tore your gaze away from the window to look down at the child then back up to Din. He quickly averts his eyes, feeling a heat crawl up his neck and settle on his cheeks.

He senses that you were still looking at him but doesn't dare to turn back to check. The comfortable silence continues, only being broken by Grogu babbling to you and you pretending to know what he’s talking about. He spotted the planet he was looking for and gently landed the crest in a clear but secluded area. He got up from his pilot seat to see you nodding your head along with Grogu’s ranting.

He smiled under his helmet and accidentally brushed your shoulder while walking past, causing him to tense a bit. He sat himself down on the floor in the back. He wanted to be alone for a while but having two other people on the small ship made that sort of improbable. But he relished the silence anyway.

You shuffled in with a sleepy Grogu. You gave him a lazy smile and put the kid down to sleep. You sat yourself in front of him and stretched your arms above your head. Din heard the crack of your back through his helmet. You groaned and brought your hands back down. He watched the way your fingers picked at your trousers, brushing off the lint that stuck there.

He wondered what your hands would feel like. Probably warm and strong. He wondered what it would feel like if you brushed them through his hair or simply rested a hand on his knee. He knew you honoured his creed as much as he did, never asking him to take off his helmet or armour. You respected his boundaries and he appreciated it. He just sometimes wished that you would be able to truly see him.

“Alright Din?”

He looked up at you.

“Sorry?”

You shifted forward.

“I asked if you were alright.”

“Oh, yeah I’m alright. Just thinking.”

“About?”

He said quieted. He reached up and grabbed a piece of cloth from the counter he was sat in front of. He wanted you to try something that he had been thinking of for a while. He held the fabric up to you, not wanting to explain and hoping that you would just get what he was implying. You looked confused but allowed him to continue anyway. You seemed to understand what he was doing once he motioned for you to lean closer. He gently tied the cloth around the back of your head. He made sure it was snug before allowing you to adjust it the way you needed it to.

“Din, what are-”

You were silenced by the sound of his helmet clanking against the ground. You listened to the sound of his breaths, unfiltered by the modulator in his armour. You heard him take off his gloves and set them down. He took one of your hands that you had laying in your lap and clasped them in his. He was right. Your hands were just as warm as he’d thought they’d be. They were marked with evidence of hard labour. He studied them, every scar and mark was filed into his memory.

You took your other hand and slid it slowly up his arm. Moving up his shoulder, you stopped when you got to his neck. He released his grasp on you and moved an arm up to yours. He took your hand and placed it on his cheek. You rubbed your thumb against his cheek and he closed his eyes. You brought your other hand up to the other side of his face. You felt the scratch of his stubble against your fingers. He gripped your wrists and pulled you closer.

He pressed a wary kiss to the corner of your mouth, testing, making sure he wasn’t pushing boundaries or taking things too far. He saw you smile so he moved in once again. This time, he kissed you properly. It was a bit clumsy due to one of you lacking sight, but it was the closest Din had been to a person in his life.

Once he pulled back, he moved his hands up to your face. He ran his hands along your arms and down your chest. He allowed himself to see you with no barriers. He still hated the fact that you couldn’t see him, but he was content that you could feel him. He yearned for your touch for so long and it almost broke him to finally get it.

[ateez-himari]

Hi bb!!!! Thank you for your precious time and let me tell you I'm literally so in love with your works and mimi💓💓

My dad is so hima dad coded cause even though I have two olders sisters and no brother I still get the princess treatment till this day and my mom is the exact same type as hima's mom like whenever she sees me she scolds me for eating too much so my stomach hurts but if I lose weight she also scolds me lol😅and believe me when I say all asian grandparents are the same it's funny somehow cause it's a stereotype but it's not wrong at all, the rice thing is so accurate I always end up eating the leftover rice🍚(this emoji is so cute I had to add it hehe😗)

I picture hanzo as that one brother who messes with his sister's bf and embarrasses her to the point where she has to physically get him out of her room(quite impossible due to their physical difference) and yoongi is the one who acts like he's joking but he actually means it and would kead mingi to a seperate room just to tell him that if he ever thinks of hurting his little sister hell do the unthinkable, and geum jae is like the second father lol(12 years is way too hard to adapt with espically adoption wise)

San and hanzo are a duo I didn't know I need cause damn them working out not one at a time but TOGETHER talk about body goals

But like it's so adorable to see a big age gap when geumjae is married rn and in a couple years she'll be an aunt, likeee I can picture her buying the cutest clothes for his baby and her and mingi would be starstruck with eachother while one of them is holding the baby likeebdhdjjdjd (I need parents mingri, new ship name alert) buttt it's actually so cute if you ever do it (not pressuring you, and if you ever rush any works I'll scold in the asian way so you know how to rest)love you tho bb and thanks for replying to my silly asks💓💓

And I won't say much but expect more mingri content coming😗😗

Hey sweets!! 🥰I'm so glad you like her so much, it genuinely makes me happy!!

Right?! Every time I see them they ask what I want to eat the second I walk through the door even if it's 10am and they worry about whether I've lost weight 😭Like no I'm just replacing it with muscle I'm not on the verge of dropping dead

Hanzo would definitely be a lot more outgoing, inviting everyone to play soccer with them - even tho he's literally a pro - and bringing up embarrassing anecdotes of his sister. Yoongi would be way more likely to just sit in one corner of the room and death stare Mingi after being told that the two were dating, because wdym she's not even 30 yet but she has a boyfriend ?? Geum Jae would just be confused as to why they're so protective about this because it's a good thing that their little baby is in love, especially with someone she's been around for so long (obviously he's still a little protective at first because he's known her since almost the day she was born)

Hanzo is probably the reason behind San deciding to build more muscle, he saw this man and was just star struck 😭They most certainly uploaded a workout vlog on his channel while Hima was embarrassed because everyone was seeing her older brother shirtless (she got an influx of marriage proposals for him even tho he was already engaged at the time)

I think when it comes to wanting children she's definitely a little more hesitant than Mingi simply because of how she was raised - so she doesn't know if she'll be a good mother - but seeing him holding a baby or interacting with children makes her soooo soft. Despite her fear she's a natural with children and just seeing her with Haneul makes Mingi extremely sick with baby fever 🤭 (It's so funny when I type out the family's names cuz there's so many Hs)

I love your silly asks! Don't worry I'll take good care of myself especially with midterms currently on my ass and my job starting 3 days from now 😭❤️Love you Mina, and you take good care too!! 😘 (I'll keep an eye out for that content!)

[kaliido-s]

for the ship thing you posted: fucking kongzilla or gojidagon

(kongzilla) " HEY YOU STUPID FUCKING MONKEY I HATE YOU BUT I LOVE YOU I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL FUCKING DAY " that happened after gvk you cant tell me otherwise... also i just love their enemies to lovers thing they have going on,,, and something about kong saving goji from mecha-g just made me thing " yep theyre gay. " (gojidagon) cmon who doesnt ship this? two gay lizard men... so silly... kaiju yaoi haters dni /j . goji and dagon just feel perfect together i dont know how to explain it...

I simply can’t decide between these two, I love them both

Godzilla is definitely way more adamant that he does not like Kong, even though he does. In the perfect little scenario, these two are already husbands who hang out and love each other, and have a very relaxed relationship. They also get to comfort each other on their own things that they’re working out, especially Kong who’s a little starstruck that he’s finally feeling affection from someone not a million times smaller than him. I will also accept more of a slow burn relationship, and will take any shipping fuel Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire gives me, because I think it has the potential for huge accidental-gay-reading.

As for GojixDagon…c’mon, I’ve got the comic and everything. They’re very committed, they love each other a lot, just some good old gay lizard yaoi. When they first met, Dagon was taller and stronger than him, while now it’s Godzilla who’s larger, and they get to have lots of cute banter about it. Dagon is good for keeping the reins on Godzilla when he gets too angry and egotistical, he’s there to be like “whatever big boy lets go back home”. So long as Godzilla’s backstory is never explored in canon, GojiDagon can be as accurate as I say it is.

[kallistcs]

"The part of the trip that came after I left Salamis has everything to do with the gods, and I wouldn't lie to you about such a thing!"

Hand to his chest, Paris leaning forward a little with his exclamation, he was nonetheless utterly serious. A tiny frown carved itself between his brows as he looked up at Hektor, too intent on earnestness to be frustrated Hektor thought he'd lie. Claiming the blessed immortals were involved in something they weren't seemed like an utterly terrible idea.

Far worse than what crime Paris knew very well he had committed in the course of this, and he did not mean running off with another man's wife.

"They were each beautiful, of course, though not in the same way. And I admit I couldn't bring myself to say anything at first - even if I could make a decision, would to soon to proclaim it be insulting? I asked to see each of them alone." Paris smiled faintly, half sheepish, half wryly amused. "I thought it'd help, to have only one of them in front of me at a time."

It had, and it had not. Very much not. But it'd also afforded him a few moments alone with Aphrodite, as he'd yearned for since the first time he knelt in her temple, and that alone made it all worth it.

"I gave the apple to Aphrodite. And she, graciously rewarding me, said she'd give me the most beautiful woman in the world as a wife."

Exhaling, Paris searched out his brother's gaze again, wide-eyed and intent. There was, in honest inability not to, a starstruck little smile on his face.

"Shortly after your wedding, she came to me again. Told me to go to Sparta, for I'd find what she'd promised there. I was simply going to ask Father for a ship after a couple weeks. But knowing his mood as of late and the reason for it, I wanted to help, too, while I followed the goddess where she'd bid me to go."

Hektor's impatience now left Paris uncertain how his brother might react to the full explanation. Of course, he wasn't expecting him to suddenly turn happy - or keep the brief mood of congratulating him for the favour shown - not when, no matter what else, he was still home in Troy with a woman who had been married to another man.

But there was a reason for that, surely Hektor would see that, at least.

"Hektor!"

Paris' cry was a protest as Hektor called him an idiot, his hands spread with their palms up and a wounded expression that was almost a pout on his face.

Shaking his head, he walked up to the door and closed it again. Turned around in a swirling drag of cloak about his feet, still in place since his arrival and through dinner. Frowned, for he had, in truth, not expected his attempt to fail. If he got to talk, he was utterly sure he would have gotten exactly what he came for, and Telamon even pleased - at least in the moment - at his coming. Why else offer to go to Salamis specifically in response to his father's flagging mood, the whispers of explanation for it, if he wasn't confident in his success?

But Telamon hadn't even let him speak, and he - well, he hadn't dared to press his luck. The look in the man's eyes...

Paris suppressed a shudder at the memory. He really would have been killed on the spot if he'd done anything but turn around and leave. But knowing that didn't change the sting of disappointment at having failed.

Just because he'd always intended to go to Sparta didn't mean he hadn't offered to go to Salamis in earnest.

"You know you can call me Paris, if you want, Hektor. As for why I went to Sparta---" Paris cut himself off, his brief little smile softening as he glanced around the room with a sigh. "I suppose I'll tell our parents tomorrow. For now, ah... you might wish to sit down?"

Smiling at his brother, Paris, at least, turned his suggestion into action and sat down on the bench by the window. Smoothing out the drape of his tunic over his thighs, he watched the sunlight catch in the gold of several rings and bracelets.

"I was up on Mount Ida before you went to fetch Andromache home for the wedding," he said, even if Hektor knew that. But that was where they needed to start, if he was to explain why Helen was here in Troy with him. "The day or so before I was going to leave so I could be sure I'd be present for the wedding, Hermes found me among the cows."

His hands were trembling.

Paris closed his eyes, digging his fingers into his thigh, right above his knee, with one hand, and clutched at the bench cushion with the other.

"He led three goddesses, each radiant in the light. Hera, blooming wife of the very lord of Olympus, Pallas Athena, and golden Aphrodite. Hermes gave me a golden apple - I couldn't read the signs inscribed on the skin, but Hermes said the apple was to go to the fairest of the three before me. He told me to arbitrate the dispute, by order of Zeus himself."

Exhaling sharply, Paris finally opened his eyes again and searched out Hektor's gaze. Shrugged, a little twitch of his shoulders that couldn't dispel the remembered weight of four divinities gathered before them, the goddesses already displeased.

"Apparently I was preferred for men older and surely wiser in judging disputes because I was well-versed in the matter this was about, and because I'd given Ares the crown as it rightfully was his, when he fought my bull."

Despite the seriousness, Paris couldn't help but preen a little when he said the words well-versed in the matter, for it was clear Hermes' meaning was that he was beautiful. He might not have been stolen by any gods for said beauty, and some part of him was still shaking at having been singled out so, but. How could he not be delighted at what was, however it had come about, a compliment? From the gods, even!

[soleilnomoon]

Hi! I saw that your request was open and I might have one if you're intrested!

How about the Monster trio + Law with a devil fruit user s/o that is strong...and I mean strong like one attack 30 marine ships gone.

But they are sweet, kind, nice, gentle, caring and super funny

Thank you in advance!!

hihi 😊 thanks sm for requesting (and thank u for your patience). i love the monster trio + law & i can imagine them falling for someone who exhibits those qualities tbh 💗

943 words, gn reader (no pronouns), sfw, 18+ mdni, short n sweet because i'm too damn long-winded otherwise <3 anyway, i hope you enjoy.

being a proficient and naturally skilled fighter, luffy admires strength and resolve in his crew mates; that admiration definitely intensifies when the person he’s dating is also strong. for him, there’s beauty in that; he’s not particularly poetic, nor is he great with words, but he might certainly be inclined to write simple lines of poetry in order to convey the way he feels after seeing you take on a fleet of naval warships without assistance. starstruck might be a better term to use; it’s almost as if watching you fight skillfully gives him a rush, one that makes him always want to head into battle with you by his side.

it also helps that your personality is sort of polarizing; that softer, gentle side the one that chooses kindness whenever you can, where you’ll run to the aid of others without question. he’s quite proud because that takes a different kind of strength. luffy feels at ease, almost as if he’s home, whenever he’s around you; not needing to be on guard because he knows that you can handle yourself against enemies just fine. that doesn’t mean he won’t look out for you, he just knows you’re capable and not someone that needs hand-holding in that regard. as he’s prone to joking around and laughing constantly, you’re the sort of person that might consume most of his heart, especially if your jokes are funny enough to have him rolling on the ground, wheezing with tears of joy trickling down his face.

he’s another who admires strength and resolve, who simply has no time for those who can’t defend themselves and would rather be with someone who can. it makes things easier, not having to worry — he already has so many other people to protect; but that doesn’t stop him from still looking out from time to time, a small bout of anxiety following him around whenever he sees how ready you are to jump into battle without batting an eye. you remind him of luffy when you do that — rash and chasing after impossible dreams; but it’s a trait that he doesn’t dislike, especially not in you.

not one to sit and stew in his feelings, he often finds himself seeking out your company, sitting and listening to you talk. he really just likes the sound of your voice, your silly jokes that aren’t really that funny — but your delivery and timing is always perfect, he can’t help but laugh — and your natural ability to soothe his temper, especially when sanji sparks an argument out of nowhere. you like to remind him that the more he feeds into sanji’s teasing, the more riled up he’ll be; and while he hates that you’re right, he can’t bring himself to not heed your words. if anything, you’re a breath of fresh air, an asset not just to the crew, but someone who he can’t see himself not being with.

while he’s plenty impressed with your abilities — and it does take a bit to impress him, given his fighting prowess and how strong luffy and zoro is — he’s much more interested in you specifically. he likes how soft you are with chopper, how you take time explaining things to luffy, how you don’t mind robin’s morbid tales — even laugh at them, which makes her smile brightly at you — and how you get along with just about anyone without issue. you’re always the first to thank him for cooking, the first to greet him in the morning, and help him even when he doesn’t need it.

etiquette has always played a role in his life, so having someone who not only exhibits that, but also does so without prompting, it really makes him thankful for your existence in his life. it’s not due to any machismo or chivalry that has him watching for you on the battlefield, but because you’re someone he cherishes deeply and wants to keep safe. that’s just the sort of person he is, even though you’ve proven yourself time and time again, sanji can’t help himself. he’ll always have an extra piece of dessert for you, always plate your food prettily, and will seek out your company with every moment he can spare.

if you can’t hold your own, you don’t really have a place in his crew, do you? so it’s only natural that he’s with someone who is strong enough to fight without needing him to step in. law is someone who tries to keep several steps ahead, who prides himself in not giving in to feeble emotions or being swayed by the actions of others — but, when you bravely put your life on the line more times than he can count, when he sees just how much his crew enjoys your presence, he can’t help but fall for you even more.

it’s annoying, to say the least, but he’s come to enjoy having you around and likes that you’re easy-going with a sweet disposition. his crew definitely teases him about you whenever they can, and while you like to chastise them for being inconsiderate, he doesn’t mind it — much, anyway. you remind him of various people from his past — that kindness, the careful way you handle others, and while he’s not great at making jokes, he certainly enjoys your humor quite a bit. you like to reserve certain jokes for him at the end of the day, when the others are asleep, so he can laugh freely, without fear of his vulnerability getting the best of him. you’re refreshing, to say the least, and he’d become protective over you without realizing, doing what he can to keep you safe.

[sxlver-sweet]

cw: penetrative sex, cervix kissing, hickeys, name-calling ? (good girl)

MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT !!

childe w/ a spoiled, high-maintenance gf who he can’t help but want to provide for and offer up the world on a silver platter to :( all you have to do is give a coquettish flutter of your eyelashes and chime a dulcet “please?” and he’s handing over the money for a shiny, new trinket, a cute dress that he’s 99% positive would look better pooled around your ankles, or a confectionary treat that he knows you’ll eagerly share with him, anyway. as a high-ranked member of the fatui, there’s no shortage of money. still, there are some days where he simply forgets to bring money with him; and, as pampered as you may be, you hardly ever pitch a real fit over being denied something you want. not only do you understand that he does a lot for you, but you also know that any intolerable brattiness will be extinguished by a punishment. still, that doesn’t stop you from occasionally milking the guilt card and strutting around with an attitude. after all, what can you say? you may understand, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy about it.

this time, it had been over a necklace, an itty bitty moon pendant hooked onto a delicate, silver chain. you’d desired it so desperately, pleading with childe for “just this one, last thing” as you gazed up at him with elated, starstruck eyes. unfortunately, childe’s wallet had other plans—namely, the hole in the leather accessory that had been spilling coins all the way through town had other plans. he thought it was amusing. you did not. you’d been disappointed, to say the least, angling your chin away from him with a prissy huff and proceeding to sulk and wallow in your own self-pity for the rest of the day. you knew it couldn’t be helped that childe’s money jumped ship, but damn, you wanted that necklace.

aw, poor childe couldn’t just leave his baby there :((( if you desired a necklace, then that’s what he would give you. by now, childe has become an expert on taming your attitude, knowing exactly where to touch and kiss you to have you pacified and melting into his ministrations. he lets you freely utilize his body in exchange for your “forgiveness,” allowing you to ride him to your heart’s content. his cock is slender yet just big enough to stretch you out and fill you up, pretty, flushed tip imposing as it kisses your cervix and nudges fervently against your sweet spot. the developed muscles in his arms flex as he bounces you on his lap, strong hands dimpling the fat of your thighs and kneading almost obsessively at the flesh. his lips plant a ring of hickeys around your throat, adorning you with a dark, makeshift necklace of his own creation that exudes nothing but ownership and commitment. you look so ravishing, all spread out and twitching with sensitivity and utterly ruined as you scrabble at his bare shoulders for purchase and shamelessly pursue your orgasm.

childe kisses his teeth as his eyes roam your body appreciatively. his lips are a mere hairsbreadth of an inch away from the shell of your ear when he murmurs teasingly, “well, look at you...” his lips move from your ear, scattering playful kisses over your face before pausing at your forehead. when he hears you sniffle and feels those pretty tears of overstimulation that he adores so much spatter onto his chest, his lips twist into an impish, knowing grin. he kisses you one final time on your forehead before chuckling, “what’s the matter? you don’t like the necklace?” he feigns a disappointed sigh, knowing damn well how much you enjoy it when he marks you up. “well, you’re going to have to make do with it until tomorrow. now, be a good girl and give me a matching one, yeah?”

@kokohmi @minifuyu hngggg

[aslitheryprinx]

Ask Game! Again!

Yep, it's time for yet another one of these! If you've been following me for a while, you've likely seen this ask game before. If not, it's easy to play along! Simply send me an ask with the color(s) of the au you want. You can ask a specific question about the au if you want, or just send the color!

-----

Red- Shipwrecked

Mers: gigantic beings that can grow to over 100ft long that rule the ocean. They are highly feared by humans as 'man-eaters.' As years go by, several humans have encounters with mers, usually as a result of a shipwreck. Tommy is one of those humans. When he's found by a mer, he knows it's only a matter of time before his death.

Phil, a mer, finds a young human after a devastating shipwreck. Knowing the human will drown if he abandons him, Phil does the only thing he can: put the human in his pouch for hatchlings. Unfortunately for Tommy, this involves swallowing him. Phil is really regretting not learning English so he can tell the human he's safe...

Contains: platonic vore, a lot of initial panic.

-----

Blue- Shooting Stars

Phil and Techno live in a cabin in the forest. Tommy and Ranboo live in the forest too... just not in a house. All four see when the alien spaceship lands. To their horror, the aliens- terrifying giants- see them too. Tommy and Ranboo are taken by one that looks vaguely goat like. Phil is taken by one with four arms. Techno sees his best friend abducted and sneaks onto the ship... Right before it leaves Earth.

Wilbur and Tubbo are part of an intergalactic exploration vessel. They're specifically on the research team. When they land on a planet full of enchantingly tiny creatures, they take a few specimens. When they notice strange behavior from the creatures, they dismiss it. After all, animals so tiny simply couldn't be sentient... Right?

Contains: accidental dehumanization, panic, captivity, and discussion of experimentation

-----

Pink- Starstruck

Wilbur is a scientist who's just been assigned to oversee a new experiment. To his horror, he finds that three miniscule teenagers, who were apparently artificially created, have been stuck into a simulation where their entire life is studied and manipulated. After a month long moral debate of whether it's worse to leave them in a false reality or to rip them away from everything they've ever known, the choice is taken out of his hands.

Ranboo, Tommy and Tubbo are three ordinary teens. They go to school, hang out, and listen to their new favorite music artist, Wilbur Soot. Then, after a deadly car crash, they wake up to a terrifying new reality. In a lab, where everything around them is giant, learning that their entire lives save for each other was a lie. The only thing keeping them from losing it is the confusion about the new head scientist. Because... isn't that Wilbur Soot???

Contains: struggle with reality, some panic, talk of past experimentation

-----

Green- Stitched

The human soul is more fragile than people know. Each hardship humans face tug the threads of their soul out of alignment, sometimes to the point of harming them. And that is where beings like Techno, the stitchers, come in.

Wilbur doesn't dream, so when he wakes up and sees a terrifying creature holding him and pulling at glowing strings that come from his body, he doesn't know what to think. It happens again a week or two later, and a sheepish Techno explains that humans aren't supposed to wake up during this process, and if they do, they're supposed to think they're dreaming. Wilbur stumbles into the world of stitchers, becoming more and more of an anomaly with each passing day.

Contains: mild panic, some themes of grief/loss

-----

Choose your own au!

Let's spice it up a bit with a wild card option! For this, you just send in the name of whichever au you want to ask about! If there's a specific thing you want to know, by all means, ask. If not, just the au name is fine!

[starcrossed--lovers]

OMG OMG OMG OMG

I DREW PERCY AND MY S/I FAVIAN AND AAA!!

🥺😭 THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY TO LOOK AT AUGH

Reblogs are appreciated! S/I (left) uses He/Him, Percy (right) uses he/him <3

[calderskillday]

A STARSTRUCK ODYSSEY EPISODE 5 liveblog!!!!!

"see ya!" oh zac ily

EMILY'S BRAINWAVE FACE I CANT

lmao the way they have sid moving on top of aurora nebbins and riva's psychodrome floating in barry's arms

ohhhhhh movement in talespire is so slick oh boy

this set is seriously badass

TWO NATURAL ONES?????????

"my future is cHANGing" *rolls a 6* *cannot retrieve the die* *nobody can retrieve the die*

lou's unhinged laugh remains my favourite thing EVER

"i'm a first level engineer, i'm not built for combat. yeah, i have two hp."

the way barry activates rage is so fucking funny

i cannot get over skip's new art

ah yes so shrewd

"oh shit!" in skip's voice is simply So Good

this battle is so layered oh GOD

emily's rolls are getting more ally-like with the way she throws the dice into the box 😭

GOD these grenades, i love sidney's abilities

NOOOO AURORA NEBBINS JUST RUNNING RIGHT THROUGH ALL THE PLEASURE PUTTY PEOPLE

i just remembered none of them have healing................ poor gunnie............

"not again" LMAO skiP

"it just looks like you guys are making out" i can get behind that

BRENNAN IMMEDIATELY FLAGGING MURPH TO ROLL FOR THE JIB JABBERS

em's reactions to those rolls lmao

i love raymond zam????

the return of phone banking on dimension 20

"the scooter is VERY important to barry"

oh barry's GOOD good

I RETROACTIVELY MADE IT PG,,,, EMILY STOP IT

#BeardsleyBlessed

"i'm a hero!"

SIOBHAN JUSTIFYING HER MOVE

GUNNIE'S L E G S

"not right now, jan!!!"

HE CALLED THE NAT 20 AND ROLLLLLEEDDDD THE NAT TWENTYYYYYY!!!!!!!! BRIAN MURPHY!!!!!!!!!

dice deity ally beardsley 😭😭😭

SUNDRY SIDNEY 24 AC???? CLUTCH

GUNNIE'S TORSO JUST HANGING THERE LMAOOO

"she's hot again" ally that's so predictably gay

SID GOES DOWN OH NO

EMILY DID NOT JUST

who's making the gif of brennan kissing emily's die

"why did i forget to worry" emily i love you mwah

THE WARFARE WHITNEYS

PICK ME UP PUT ME ON THE SHIP ACTUALLY WORKED???? HAAAAA

THE SMASH 'N GRAB REVIEW!!!!!! THE BALL IS ROLLING UP THE HILLLLLL

oh god next week's ep looks intense fuck

[jeagerism]

(i tried writing this mostly for @sallysoot dodisid) but since it's like canon that philza was techno's mentor as a kid and into adulthood, i'll just say

don't think abt being the third counterpart in the sibling-ship that tommy and wilbur have. don't think abt techno coming over all the time to train with phil - which was good, because whenever techno came over, phil stayed around. it was almost like he was an actual father, nevermind how much it stung to see him ruffle techno's hair whenever he did something that made him proud. he doesn't speak much, at least not to you. sometimes you catch the rumble of his voice as he asks wilbur a question, or answers to tommy's increasingly whiney begs to hold his sword. don't imagine feeling a tugging at your chest whenever techno let's his shoulders fall, releasing tension from keeping his guard up, rays of sun casting a pretty glow onto his face during the summer.

don't imagine how you notice that he always looked empty, for someone so young. how he always kept his face covered by that familiar mask, never let himself reveal whatever lied underneath to any of you. all you knew of him were striking eyes and thin pink lips. don't imagine how, one day, months after his first appearance, you're looking out from the kitchen, gazing at the snow that lay in blankets around your family's home. and you see him. phil had said he was dismissed hours ago, but there he was, still going. huffing, you reach over onto the table in front of wilbur, taking the unattended mug of tea you'd made minutes ago, and starting towards the door. your brother doesn't mutter a word, too enamoured with the book in front of him - you're pretty sure he'd snuck into phil's study earlier, but you'll let him do what he wishes. it wasn't as if the older would notice.

don't imagine slipping your coat around your shoulders as you step out, thin socks soaking through to your bare feet as they meet the snowy ground. keeping a hand over the top of the mug, you stumble awkwardly over to the area where he's always occupied in front of your home, for months now. you begin to set the cup onto the bench you frequent on days warm enough to come out and watch - nothing but simple curiosity - when a frustrated cry rings throughout the empty space, bouncing off of nearby trees and echoing back to you. turning, your fingers become loose around the ceramic.

don't imagine seeing techno sling the mask off, tossing it to the side with disdain. as he begins to face where you're standing, your fingers slip from around the hot mug, liquid arching up and back down onto your feet, splashing parts of your legs.

cursing, you yank the cup from the floor. when you look back up, startling ruby eyes meet your own. they all but steal the air from your chest. there's a shake in your legs as you swallow, gathering as much confidence you can into the swell of your throat as you speak. "sorry, i was, well, i...its cold and i had tea and then." you shake your head, trying to clear thoughts of the way his cheeks looked so pink from the cold - his hair nearly matched. "im sorry." once you're back inside the confines of your home, back pressed to the spruce of the door, you release air you weren't aware you were holding. tommy asks why you look so shocked. wilbur snickers to himself, but when you open your eyes to glare at him, he's only giving you a coy smile. the book he had is closed in his lap.

don't imagine the months of that winter after that being spent inside, never even daring to go too close. don't imagine the spring that comes after, slowly bleeding into another summer, an entire year of the presence of technoblade. don't imagine continuing watching countless training sessions from the same bench you'd finally seen him from - memorizing the way his hair looks really pretty the way it is now - long enough to be put into a ponytail that gathers at the nape of his neck, baby hairs slicked to the skin with sweat.

don't imagine going between watching the combat in front of you and paying attention to the enchanted book wilbur had given you as a gift days before. you'd found it strange at the time - you hadn't thought wilbur listened much to the rambling you did about wanting to train yourself - but you'd let it go anyways, accepting the leather bound book.

don't imagine techno sitting on the bench you stay on to watch as he learns, taking a moment to breathe, dragging a hand down his face. and you're in awe. you'd always been starstruck at seeing him, but this is new. now he's up close. and it's just you and him, for now. the only interaction the two of you have come close to is the singular nod he gives you when he enters your kitchen - he seldom does this. you think it's because he doesn't want to intrude. as if he could. he was pretty much royalty around here, with how much tommy droned on about how cool he was, and how many times wilbur had mumbled in agreements to that.

don't imagine the way his head tilts to the side as his shoulders rise and fall with a quiet breath. how he softly speaks your name. and you're confused, because you've never introduced yourself, yet he knows your name. to be fair, he'd never directly introduced himself to you either, but you'd peeked your head around the corner on one of his first days here, and had heard phil ask a simple, "how was your trip here, techno?" don't imagine how he'd quirk an eyebrow up at your gaping silence, a hand reaching out before it drops back down to his lap. he coughs out, "i, um, i'm technoblade."

"i know." your hands are tingling with nervousness, because he's close, and he smells like pine and parchment paper, and his hair looks really soft. don't imagine him scratching the back of his neck, shaking his head the tiniest bit. he did that a lot, you noticed. most often when phil let him take a short break from whatever he was being taught. sometimes he'd mutter a few words, always harsh whispers, before standing straight as if he'd cleared his head with the action.

"do i....scare you?" don't imagine the way he looks embarrassed to even be asking, fingers curling round the old, chipped wood he's sitting on. he'd abandoned the red cape he normally donned earlier on, now just sporting his signature white button up, sleeves unbuttoned at the ends and pushed up to his elbows.

you let out a shocked chuckle. "um, no? i mean, i don't think there's much to be scared of." you want to say how nothing as pretty as him could be scary. intimidating, sure, but not scary in the slightest. "i simply have habits of embarrassing myself in front of people i barely know."

don't imagine the quiet invitation of, "i'd be more than happy to know you."

and so it is. don't imagine how his eyes seem to find yours at least once through every session he has from that point on. he's still not as talkative - in fact, you spend more time in silence than anything, but it's nice. it's comforting. when you're not outside to watch, he begins stopping by the kitchen window that opens directly over the sink. you hand him a bottle of water whenever you see the pink head of hair pop up over the window sill.

don't imagine watching him grow - a thin, wire framed face growing into itself, long legs that he often tripped over at moments growing steady. he grows along side you and tommy and wil; techno teaches them what phil had always refused to. he teaches you himself in quiet moments shared between the two of you. brings you gifts as a thank you for helping him with extra training, as if he wasn't the one teaching you most things.

one evening, after he's ran and fought himself dry, the length of his hair crowding his face - you'd considered telling him of how awfully pretty he looked with long hair. you'd bitten your tongue when any chance had presented itself.

technoblade had always been a friend; he'd been the one to teach you how to make stew properly, had bandaged your finger when you'd burnt it from not paying close enough attention to how close your hand had been to the flame. you remember the way his hands had shook as he'd wrapped the fabric around your fingers. he'd stumbled and tripped all over his words as he'd scolded you.

the evening brings about the chirping of nearby pond animals and the clanking of whatever lay in the woods after sundown. techno takes a seat on the ground beside your bench, shoulder knocking into your calf. staring hard at the hair gathered around his neck, you wet your lips. "can i braid your hair?"

you don't reach out to touch him until he gives you a gentle nod. that was one thing about him - he hated being touched. the only person you'd ever seen touch him was phil, and he'd always let his shoulders brush his ears in embarrassment when that happened.

you shift your body towards him, gathering the amount of hair in your hands, letting it lay across your lap in bunches. as you begin weaving strands between each other, technoblade sighs. "wilbur told me about the land - manburg?"

you click your tongue at him with a soft laugh. "l'manburg", you correct, "and yeah. they've already uh, got people there. started building and stuff." you furrow your brows at the strands of pink hair in your hands. "its good. i mean, i always wanted more for them than this. and they always knew they deserved more."

"so do you." he's still as you loop the last remaining tufts of hair around each other. "and it wouldn't be so bad to have you a little closer."

you try not to pay too much attention to the warmth that blooms in your chest, rising to your ears, across your cheeks. "as if you're not here all the time anyways," you chastise, flipping the end of his braid off your lap. you can feel his eyes follow you as you scoot back to your original spot, gathering the things you'd carried out when you'd sat to watch him at the start. sighing, you meet his gaze with a dead stare. "i will consider it."

techno hums, rising to his feet with the noise. tugging the things you're holding from your grasp, transferring them into his own hold, he nods. "good."

don't imagine the way he helps you move all your stuff into chests weeks after, loading them onto the horse you'd helped him find on the eve of his last birthday. he let's you ride with him for every trip to drop your stuff off to where you'll be living - a small cottage not too far from where he is. on the final trip he helps you down with a hand held out for you to grab, pulling you in close for a moment before he leads you inside.

don't imagine the way he stays with you the first night until sundown, dismissing every worry of the dangers he may face on his way home in the dark. he stays on your couch, sandwiched in between you and the corner of the cushioned material.

"don't worry your head over it", he tells you to quiet your worries, "i'll be fine. im technoblade, remember?" when you roll your eyes at his antics, he bumps his shoulder into yours with a grin. "you act as if you want me to leave so badly."

you scoff into the mug of tea he'd prepared for you after the two of you had set nearly everything up. "whatever", you say, before clearing your throat. "you're ridiculous."

when you fall asleep he's sitting next to you, and when you wake he's gone. there's a red cloak around your shoulders that slips down at your wake - you lift it to your nose with a sleepy smile. pine and parchment.

the next day, he stops by around noon with extra supplies. he's got nothing but that white button up on, and when he sees the cloak draped over your lap as he carries things in, he shakes his head with a breathy, barely there laugh.

don't imagine the way things change. he's with you nearly every night - he makes you food, tells you about his day, listens intently when you tell him of yours over bites of bread and stew. he's always there as you fall asleep. most days he's gone before morning light. others you wake to his rumbled humming as he slips on his shoes to start his day.

the days tommy and wilbur visit, he still shows up. makes conversation with the two over the plans for the nation. often times you catch them hurriedly wrapping up a hushed conversation of serious whispers when you reenter the room. techno's brows always furrow, a crease forming between them that you always want to smooth out with your finger.

when they leave, those are the times he seems troubled. sometimes so terribly inside his own mind that he doesn't flinch when you accidentally brush against him. other nights, when it's just the two of you, he complains he's messed up his hair, because no one does it like you, and spends the minutes it takes you to redo it humming and poking into your calves.

don't imagine the day he visits that he knows something is off.

your mouth if pursed into a frown, something troublesome brewing within. but he carries on as he normally does. an unspoken rule between the two of you - the two of you would talk about bothersome things when either of you chose.

as he sets down the plate in front of you, you catch his wrist with your hand. he tenses for a second, and you give him a regretful glance. "sorry", you call out, and he nods, sitting beside you as he normally does - side to side.

"you knew they were starting a war." it's not a question. your fingers dig into the cushions of the couch. the fire crackling across the room fills the silence after your words.

"i did."

"it's not fair." a sigh. "you should've told me."

"i know." it's his turn to apologise, as his pinkie knocks against your thigh. "i'm sorry."

"it's not as if i wouldn't have been able to handle it."

he wets his lips. "i know." tapping his pinkie against your thigh again, he sucks in a breath. "i was selfish, with you. i didn't want you to worry." you lean your head onto his shoulder; he rests his own atop yours. "im always selfish with you."

just as the last embers of the fire begin to burn, your pinkie wraps around his own.

don't imagine months of travesty involving the land. countless nights of curling into the shoulder of your best friend with whispered doubts. he always quiets them with a brush of his lips against your forehead and a soft "technoblade never dies, you know."

don't imagine seeing techno one night. he's quieter than normal, doing that same old dance of shaking his head, mumbled whispers and sharp breaths. but the grip he has on your pinkie is constant, the same as it always is. the weight of his arm around your shoulders is just as warm as it always is. hands engulfing yours as he fiddles with your fingers, countless unintelligible words and heavy sighs.

"you're sighing a lot for someone who's never worried." your comment seems to jumpstart him again, as he tsks at you.

"well, i'm not worried." a few beats pass. "i'm...contemplating."

"contemplating what?" you glance up at him, eyebrows raised. he shrugs - you think you've seen him shrug a handful of times since you met him. if he ever didn't want to answer something, he just didn't. and if he did, he was always as straight forward as one could be.

you let go of the topic regardless, standing a few minutes later to carry glasses back to the kitchen. the warm water runs over your hands as you rinse away leftover drinks from the cups. once your finished, you shut the water off with a hum, shaking your hands into the sink below you.

when you turn around, he's standing there, eyes slightly widened, his cheeks pink like the cold had been nipping away at him. "techno?"

"you know that i", he shakes his head, eyes darting from every thing they could land on except you. "that i, um."

"are you o-"

"im selfish with you." he breathes the words out like a prayer. "i am, and i...ever since i saw you drop that stupid mug on the floor i've been...all i've known is you."

you swallow as he takes a step closer to where you are. you feel the cold metal of the sink through your shirt. "im really, really selfish and it's even more selfish of me to tell you, but i." techno let's his eyes fall on your face. "i don't want to have missed out on ever telling you that. i don't want that moment to pass me by."

"does this mean i get to keep the cloak?"

and he laughs. the type of laugh that you know means he's caving in on himself, hands twitching, throat dry. "if....if you want to. it's kind of...always been yours anyways?"

"techno."

"yeah?"

"will you kiss me?"

you don't have to ask him twice. the weight of his palm on your cheek is warm, and you'll always wonder how his hands are so soft with all that he does. his fingers take their place along your jaw to tilt your head up; and he's kissing you like a man starved.

when he parts from you with bubblegum cheeks and a small smile, you laugh. that night, he stays. he presses another warm kiss to your cheeks, the tip of your nose, your forehead. you fall asleep with your head tucked into the crook of his neck.

don't imagine opening your eyes the next morning to the sun. it casts shadows and patterns from where it enters the window. when you look up, he's glowing just like he did when you were kids. he's more now, longer hair, his features sharp and mouth pulled down into a permanent straight line. you think he's harder, somehow, but the light softens out all of his harsh edges just fine.

don't imagine ignoring the fact that he probably needs to be up - that he has some meeting with wilbur to attend, some kind of planning for whatever is happening next. you turn into his embrace once more, letting his arm tug you closer as he breathes out slowly.

you'll be selfish with him for a bit more.

[ackermanslov4r]

request :hey can you write a prompt abt levi falling in love with hange/realizing the moment he’s in love with them/her? maybe like hange doing something they/she loves and levi being starstruck almost... also if you do this i’d love if it went in line with the anime/manga :)

i don’t really ship levihan so I hope it’s still great! i'll probably rewrite that because i don't feel like it's what you requested ,but since i kinda like it i'm still posting it lmao anyway here we go.

CONTAIN MANGA SPOILERS (chapter 126 i think)

« I’d rather the two of us just live here,right levi? »

His mind still confused because of his wounds,he could simply listen to them talk. He didn’t even have the strength to open his eyes.

He thought he was lost forever,he thought he was going to die because of that damn yeager ...until he heard Hange’s voice,a voice he had already convinced himself he’ll never hear again. Hope ,this feeling he never allowed himself to feel,took place in his heart in this moment.

These past days,he heard more than he saw the care Hange showed him,how they tried their best to help him heal,putting aside their job as a commander and the fight for humanity,just to be here next to him.He listened to them filling the silence with long talks about the experiment they intented to do,almost picturing the glitters in their eyes,this well known smile that could warm his heart visible on their face.

He wanted to thank Hange,thank them for staying with him even when he was at his lowest,thank them for being the reason he woke up everyday,for the feelings they made him feel,these feelings he never even thought existed before experiencing them .He wanted to say so many things,he wished they knew the moment he knew it,the moment he realized that,yes,Levi Ackerman,an apparently cold man,fell in love with Hange Zoe,a ball of sunshine and excitement. He dreamt of being able to put words into these emotions,the way he felt when they smiled,laughed,talked,breath,existed. He wanted so many things,but right now,what he needed most was to open his eyes to be able to see their face.

He forced himself to open them,the effort causting him more strenght than it should have. He was only able to see their back,but it was already enough. This familiar feeling filled his body,and he almost wanted to tell them right now,tell them that he was in love. But he could barely keep his eyes opened,and with a small sight,he passed out once again.

But that's okay. He'll have all the time to tell them after.

[thepixelelf]

is it too late to request skz changbin + sci-fi/post-apocalypse/space pirates for the february event?

Hi anon!! I'm really sorry for answering this late and it not even being a full blurb, but to be honest, this ask just really had my brain whirring when I got it! I'd been watching this cool tabletop game show called starstruck odyssey, and it has so much fun space stuff that I wanted to try writing myself. Unfortunately I got a bit ahead of myself and started writing something I now know I'll never finish :(

But because I feel like it, I want to show you what I had written, just in case you miraculously stumble across this post and still want to see at least a part of your request come to life

A note: the reader character is the ServDroid that appears near the end!

•

[the not-so-great escape] Changbin can’t drink. Not for lack of effort — trust him, he’s tried enough to know. His body simply won’t process alcohol like it used to after all the operations. His new biop-tissue actively rejects any alcohol he tries to ingest, so he no longer gets to enjoy the feeling of haziness seeping through his blood vessels. He doesn’t get to relish in that cloud-like dizziness, where the outside world has no merit and he doesn’t have any problems except when his next drink is going to arrive.

No, now he sips a kowza-cola with a wedge of original Terran lime, and his problems are many.

For one, his captain sitting next to him at the bar is drunk as fuck.

“Another!” Chan boastfully demands of the human bartender, raising his glass, which is still more than half full of sloshing purple lager. Changbin sees the bartender shoot a furtive glance his way, and he makes a subtle slicing motion at his neck, mouthing an apology at the same time.

Patting his captain’s back, Changbin sighs. “Easy there, Chan. Who’s going to pilot the ship tomorrow if you’re too hungover?”

Chan pouts, his eyes watching the swishing drink in his glass intently. “One of the kids can do it…”

“Sober you would rather die," Changbin assures him. "Besides, don't you remember why we're stuck here in the first place?"

Not lucid enough to hide a scowl, Chan rubs his free hand over his forehead and groans. "That kid is gonna get us killed."

'The kids' refers to the four youngest in the crew, all rambunctious — and frankly nuisances — in different ways, but now the term extends to the newest addition to the ship. Jeongin stowed away in one of the escape pods on the Red Haven for over three Terran day cycles before Minho found him in a routine check of the ship's facilities. As a defector from the Zalich cluster, he has a glowing red target practically tattooed on his forehead, and now, so does the entire Red Haven crew as long as he stays aboard.

"He hasn't caused any trouble yet," Changbin reminds him. It's impossible for Jeongin to have caused any real problems since they found him and docked on Maldiorr — they've kept him virtually locked up in one of the few sleep pods without even a comm connected inside. Half of the reason was the fear of anyone seeing or recording Jeongin disembarking from the Red Haven and accusing them of aiding and abetting a Zalich defector. The other half was because, well…

Jeongin is just a kid. Not that much younger than the rest of them, no, but Minho said he was shaking when he found him, full of fear and dehydrated. Hungry. Defenseless. Begging for Minho not to kick him out— to "let them find" him. Letting him out of the sleep pod and off the ship would almost assure his return to Zalich.

The entire crew has been saying similar things since they found Jeongin. He hasn't caused trouble yet. He's just a kid. He's not a bad guy.

They're not arguing with each other over what to do with Jeongin. They're wrestling with what is clearly the safest answer.

Report Jeongin as a Zalich defector, collect the reward, and give the boy and all their problems away with him.

Changbin takes another sip of kowza at just the thought of the steep reward promised for bringing the boy in. It's no cheap fix — that much money could set the Red Haven on an upcurve, which is exactly what they need after the unfortunate difference of opinions (as the kids called it) between the ship and an asteroid belt not too long ago. None of them knew about the reward before they searched for it, though it wasn't hard to find. There was no information on defectors. Instead, anyone who has strayed from a Zalichian ship or colony is "missing", and their families and loved ones apparently miss them terribly. Anyone who could find a confused and missing Zalichian would be rewarded handsomely for their safe return.

The Zalich cluster operates as a single, rather powerful entity. While Zalichians do have minds of their own, each and every one is intrinsically connected, and therefore all of them have the same goals as a collective. As a regime, the Zalich cluster isn't one to mess with — despite the fact that it is known not to start wars or ires. The connection between Zalichians allows for perfect battle formations, zero percent miscommunications, and flawless strategies. They don't start wars. They only finish them.

With the way the Zalich cluster has operated for centuries, none of the boys ever thought about a Zalichian leaving.

The crew realized belatedly; there's a reason none of them ever heard of a Zalich defector before. No one's ever made it that far.

“I know ,” Chan grumbles into the awkward silence, putting down his now-empty glass. Changbin silently thanks Chan for not realizing a new drink isn’t coming. "I know he hasn't caused any trouble yet, but…"

But he will — whether he means to or not.

Changbin nods grimly.

"May I clear this glass for you?" The voice of the ServDroid suddenly beside him causes Changbin to jump in his seat

[my-writings-and-musings]

Could you do Fort Max and First Aid for the oxygen loss?

Seriosuly loving it, angst and comfort/fluff is the best combination lmao

It is the best combination and those are two of the best boys so I am ON IT! Fort Max is in part eight listed below, but here's First Aid!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: You're Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

First Aid

·Ever one for new experiences, he'd been quite enthusiastic to have a human join the crew, and perhaps it was his penchant for thoroughly appreciating every unknown he came across that had led to your fast paced courtship. The bot had simply demonstrated an almost overwhelming fascination towards you from day one, and in short time the connection between the two of you had been discovered through his efforts. Now you were nearly inseparable. Off days and breaks are always used for bonding, and today is no exception. Atop his lap as he sits comfortably, you happily listen to his enthusiastic and commentary filled reading of a Wrecker's Declassified, loving how he has the most obvious and adorable starstruck look while doing so. You could listen all day just to see his schoolboy crush play out before you.

·For him, having someone who listens and values his opinions without hesitation is enough to get his spark humming. He's rather accustomed to being passed over for bots with more experience and fame, so seeing your eyes focused on him with such rapt attention is... well, it's just nice. Finding you exceptionally adorable doesn't make it any less sweet. Being human also means a great deal of his favorite topics are new to you, so he gets to introduce you to all the wonders of the Wreckers, something that he loves every moment of. It's also not unpleasant to have your tiny body close to his, practically snuggling against him... Cuddling is something more or less new to him as well, so having it at all is yet another wonder you've brought to his life. There's a vague hope in the back of his processor that he'll be brave enough to suggest sharing a berth someday, just for a nice nap together, as he's not yet been brave enough to ask such a thing of you.

·Unfortunately, the universe has very little respect for his plans. Accustomed to interruptions as an always on call medic, he can't help but be a little frustrated when Ratchet starts comming him out of the blue, but he knows better than to show it. Something serious must be going on if their CMO needs assistance. Still in your partner's lap, you watch as he answers the communication, quite used to sudden messages like this pulling him away. It's a part of dating a medic; but nothing about this seems standard. First Aid shifts his expression to one of concern as the voice comes through the comm in broken static, though he's experienced enough to put together what little there is. A warning of failing systems gets him moving on instinct, his arms scooping you up as he moves to stand, and the instructions to head to his emergency stations is almost unnecessary when the line goes dead.

·You're surprised but not offput by the sudden change in your position, if only because being swept into his arms is... very nice. That doesn't prevent you from knowing something is off though, and thankfully he is just as aware of you as he is his responsibilities as a medic, more so of you to tell the truth... A calm visor reflects your face as he lifts you close to relay the situation. Something is wrong with the ship, he explains, and it's bad enough that Ratchet made a preemptive call for medical bots to get moving. That means he needs to get to the medical bay, and before you can ask he brings up the possibility of you coming with him. Worry is just perceptible on his face as he hesitantly expresses that having you there would be safer, and thus he'd feel better... The bashful look is so cute you momentarily forget the danger to give him a reassuring kiss on his faceplate while accepting the proposition.

·Ignoring the stars you make him see with a tiny smooch, he gets right to work, securing you in one arm and ensuring his room is locked before heading out. He can't help but feel protective as he does so, almost like your guard against the threat that feels omnipresent in every hallway. You feel the same, and he can tell by how you hold him tighter in his grasp, something that stirs his spark with almost overpowering affection. It's enough to make him certain he'd fight like a Phase Sixer to protect you... For your part, a similiar drive to keep him safe is present, despite the difference in size between you. Hopefully you help him feel a little more secure as the two of you move through the eerily quiet hallways.

·The protective instincts First Aid has honed in his career as a medic give him a half second warning that danger is inbound, but all he is able to do in that time is curl around you protectively when the world seems to shake itself asunder. Hard floors meet his back in a painful rush, and you're similiarly jostled against him, though thankfully the worst of the blow is softened by his reflexive brace for impact. Tremors continue to rock the ship once you both realize you're on the ground, but a great cacophony of noise fails to die down when the shaking does. It's not a noise you've ever heard before; though you can compare it to metal being torn, the echoing and overbearing sound is at a scale you can't even comprehend.

·First Aid, having a natural coolness under pressure, is able to collect himself even as the situation continues evolving. The alarm begins to go off as he gets himself off the floor, and he notes that had it not the entire crew would probably still be mobilizing. There was no way anybot didn't feel what he just happened to be a front row spectator towards. While being on a ship of soldiers meant backup would soon be available, he had a few concerns that just couldn't wait for the guards to be scrambled. With one path to the medical bay now inaccessible, and you being so vulnerable, he needs to get somewhere safe to plan. He holds you close as the first open room becomes a makeshift shelter.

·Still reeling from the shock of everything, you find yourself atop a table in one of the Lost Light's many maintenance rooms, watching as First Aid attaches a portable operating flashlight to his helm. Before you can ask a single question the light is covering your body as he looks you over, asking for clarification on your basic functions while checking for injuries at the same time. Only when he's satisfied you're stable does the opportunity for speech present itself. Half expecting another massive tremor to hit at any moment, you ask what on earth made the ship move and sound like it had hit a Titan sized can opener, and his visor darkens with worry. You take hold of his hand to reassure and encourage him.

·The explanation is a bit rushed, but understandable; the ship has been ambushed, no doubt the enemy is preparing to board through the makeshift docking station they just created, and enemies will soon flood in... Also, most of the ship's systems appear to be offline. It's bad enough news that you feel suddenly woozy and need to sit back on your little table. Seeing you afraid drives First Aid into action, his processor working overtime to formulate a plan that will get you to safety, though admittedly the situation is a tough one. It's only when he takes proper stock of his surroundings and notes the monitor station that an idea takes shape.

·Intent on finding a clear path, he lays out his plan as he starts typing, explaining his thought process as he hacks into the virus addled program to get what he needs. Though you find solace in his confidence, the surprise from before is still wearing you down. Exhaustion seems to be the only thing you can truly comprehend... First Aid breaks through the enemy programs holding information back, but his victory proves short lived when the many systems start showing their current status, and his triumph turns to horror at one in particular. Critical to your survival, the atmospheric generators are among the malfunctioning systems. Oxygen levels are dropping by the minute. Without a word, he turns on the spot and begins looking you over again, earning a cry of surprise as he scoops you up.

·Alarmed and confused, you haven't a clue what might have spurred the usually in control bot to act so rashly, and have to sputter out the question when your clouded head fails to settle. Something like an explanation pours out of him, but there's very little you understand due to an increasingly sluggish mind. The growing exhaustion alarms him further. There's precious little time before you reach critical levels of oxygen deprivation, and the hypoxia has already rid you of the ability to process the situation... An ache in his spark is joined by one in his head as he tries to formulate a plan, and when he is left with only a long shot, he's forced to take it for your sake. There's a shake in his hands as he cannibalizes the room for parts, throwing together a makeshift air scrubber that will generate just enough breathable oxygen to get you to the medical bay. You smile as you watch him make it, suddenly too tired to stay awake but wanting to watch him craft, if only because his ingenuity is one of your favorite traits. The pleasant haze is still there even as he lifts you again to bring a makeshift oxygen mask to your face and begin running.

·All he can really do is hope, but there's precious little optimism in his spark as he makes the journey to the medical bay in a blind run, not running into enemies by sheer luck. The countless mistakes he's made so far are all that exist beyond your terrifyingly expressionless face. It's distracting enough that he's surprised when the team of Autobots appears from nowhere, particularly as Ratchet is amongst them, but before the CMO can say a word First Aid is pleading with the more experienced medic for help. He feels like a student on their first bad rotation in a hospital ward, facing the possibility of death for the first time, only a million times more agonized because you're on the line. The older bot is mercifully understanding as he gently takes you and guides him back to the medical bay, where he enters a fog and settles in to his job without conscious thought. He sees everything; Ratchet stabilizes you with proper equipment, wounded bots start to come in with news the battle is over, the systems maintaining the ship all come completely online... None of it registers.

·All he can think of is how he failed. The machine he built could have been more effective, he should have predicted oxygen issues from the start, and had he not been distracting you with his foolish interests to begin with... It physically hurts, but he doesn't allow himself even a moment of reprieve from the self admonishment, and dedicates himself entirely to your wellbeing. Every tiny facet of your recovery is microanalyzed, down to the thousandth of a percent. He won't risk losing you to more of his mistakes. It's bad enough that he doesn't permit joy to show on his face when you finally begin to stir, not even cracking a smile when your beautiful eyes finally blink open and you look into his visor. Your own expression, however, immediately shifts to one of exhausted but emphatic relief. Seeing the bot you love alive after the chaos you remember enduring is more than you could have asked for.

·He can't help but be incredibly gentle as he asks how you feel, his affection too strong to ever suppress in its entirety. But you can see the struggle in his actions, having become so accustomed to his presence that the out of character reservation is as obvious to you as a fireworks display, so you quickly ask if he's okay after everything that happened. The innocent question actually makes him flinch. Not a moment later he breaks and loses the calm air of a medic, collapsing into a nearby chair to confess that your injuries are his fault, caused by a myriad of failures he can't reconcile. Head in his hands, he's caught off guard when you make an effort to move from your little bundle of blankets and tubes keeping you stable.

·Before he can say a word to stop you, he is silenced by a little hand taking hold of his digit, and though the mask is firmly fitted you still speak loud and clear enough for him to hear the firmness in your voice. As lovingly as you can, you insist that he stop what he's doing. Loving him is worth any risk, but because he's as resourceful and brilliant as he is, you had made it through a situation most wouldn't have survived. The rest of the universe may not always see his worth, but you do every time you see him. Growing dizzy from the force of your conviction, you're gently shushed and encouraged to lie back, yet to your exhausted delight First Aid appears anything but pained as he works. Adjusting your blankets and tenderly ensuring your comfort, he doesn't need to say thank you through anything but his actions. As always, you've brought him back down from that exhausting despair he grappled with so often in the past. After all, he must be capable indeed to have earned the love of someone so wonderful and unique. The least he can do is show his gratitude in a gentle brush of his thumb over your palm as you drift back to sleep.