#thank u for the ask for some reason these were genuinely difficult for me to figure out how to answer

[waterlogged-detective]

8 for Doe, 44 for Darcy, and 50 for both

OC Asks!

8: Do they collect anything? If so what and why?

Pets because cute and they’re all baby

He collects books! In a “right I have an opportunity to take this now so it doesn’t get censored and I wanna read it” way. It’s become a bitty bit compulsive for him, and at some point he’s going to run out of room in his house.

But not for a while yet, so it’ll be fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.

44: Who, if anyone, would they trust with their deepest secrets?

Absolutely no one lmao. An easy way for a secret to get out is to tell someone, and in the neath even killing someone after doesn’t guarantee people won’t hear about it from them later. Not that he has a whole lot of deep secrets, mind you.

Probably.

I mean, that’s what he says anyway.

50: What is your favorite thing about them?

Oh gosh, I’m not very good at these uh

Doe’s is probably the inherent silliness of his premise to me? Just imagining a diving suit that assumes everything pointing to him being what is essentially a magical book powered automaton (thats how I see him anyway lol) is just How Americans Are Actually makes me giggle. It’s a stupid little premise but it’s fun to play with, and that’s what matters to me

Darcy on the other hand is that, well, originally he was for a different fandom and was created almost ten years ago now. He’s gone through a bunch of changes before I was able to get him back into something I find fun to write in general. I’m a huge fan of campy over the top villains who do things not for evil’s sake or a grand plan, but because it’s fun. Like if you’re gonna be evil, at least have fun being evil! You don’t have to have a grand plan or secretly think you’re doing the right thing all the time (even though i fuckin love those kinds of villains too. Im a connoisseur) sometimes you know what you’re doing is bad, or morally dubious and you do it anyway because it looks really fun!

I hope those answers make sense haha

[sixosix]

END NOTE | THAWED

a little love letter to my readers

to start off, i know that the series is based off the entire reputation album, but i like to think that this whole series was written around call it what you want.

how it started LMFAOOO

This was previously titled ‘melt’ before i was like ‘nah ill make it, like, thaw” and earthtooz went, “Thawed?” little did earth know,, that name would literally take over my docs,,, my tags,,, my ENTIRE account

A message to my readers: From the bottomest bottom of my heart, if you have reached this series until the very end, thank you so, so much for reading. Read that sentence again. And again, until you realize how grateful I truly am as a writer. Thawed is such a big project that I still can’t believe I was able to even start. I genuinely never thought it would garner this much attention, and in all honestly, I was intimidated by it, because I had no idea what I was doing, and I was afraid I would disappoint.

This entire project was intimidating, and I considered so many times to just drop it and end it on chapter five. I struggled so badly to write after I introduced the characters, and I thought: “well, that’s it. I guess it was fun.” I even told my friends that I would do that; and yet 14 chapters later, look at where we are now 😭

Writing it was so exhausting. Working on a series while studying as a student really makes it difficult to remember details about my own story T__T I had to reread Thawed so many times to the point where I don’t even like it anymore.

But I know the reason why I decided to continue it! It sounds so horribly cliche, but it’s true. It’s thanks to all your overwhelming support :( Each ask, comment, reblog—they all fueled me more than you think. All those replies of even incoherent gibberish made me realize that, ‘hey, someone read it and liked it enough to send an ask about it. Maybe I am doing something right!!!!’

some thawed extras for readers who are interested

If you haven’t noticed, the chapter titles aren’t actually accurately about the chapter. Those titles were taken from the songs in the Reputation album, in order. And the chapters are loosely based around them!

reputation is, like, widely known as the edgy album from taylor, but in reality its such a big love letter and i know that other people noticed that, too! i think it’s very fitting to the story of thawed: it’s dark and messy, but at the end of the day, it’s a love story. do you get what i mean hehe. i hope that’s how the series came across…

im sorry if aether doesnt appear in the last chapter :( in my head, mc is coming home. and by then i dont think aether would be in fontaine at all! but rest assured they definitely have met up twice or thrice while in the other regions heehee. Also aether will ofc be there for their weeding. 🙏

i have nothing much else to say aside from thank you for reading! i hope u enjoyed thawed as much as i did

[commsroom]

hi so your excellent eiffel posting has made me obsessed with the man. so i thought i should share some headcanons i have with the source of my fixation.

im not sure if it's disputed in canon, but i think eiffel used to curse A Lot More than he does on the hephaestus. i know this is mainly a metatextual thing to do with explicit labels, but i like to think that the reason he self censors a lot in the show (cutting himself off, substituting with less harsh words) is cause part of getting sober also involved unlearning his cursing so that anne wouldn't hear it from him. something about not wanting to expose her to the harsher side of the world that he's lived in his whole life.

i also think eiffel is a velcro shoes guy (understandable and based) and can't tie his own laces if he has laced shoes. HOWEVER, he can tie someone else's shoes cause he learnt how to tie anne's for her. retranslating those motor skills in a first person perspective has proved difficult for the galaxy's least co-ordinated comms officer.

anyways thanks for posting about this guy and i would love to hear any thoughts you have!! hope u have a great day

thank you for sharing your eiffel thoughts with me!! ♡

okay! about eiffel swearing... to an extent, i think both things are true? like you said, he canonically self censors - i think are space suits itchy? is a good example in this particular context; it definitely reads as "eiffel bleeping himself out because it's funny" and not any sort of external intervention, to me - and there are quite a few times where he almost swears, but gets cut off. and there's a note in the script for quiet, please that reads: "if this were HBO, this is where eiffel and minkowski would both swear profusely." (incidentally, also the episode that gives us "eiffel stops what he's doing and holds up a rude gesture.") most characters in wolf 359 would probably swear more frequently if they were not in wolf 359, but eiffel is particularly interesting because i think it does... kind of by nature sand down some rough edges he has, but that the show can only suggest?

i know i bring up the fact he lists sex and porn as two of the things he misses about earth semi-frequently, but i think it's genuinely kind of fascinating that he's a textually sexual person who can only express that through quips like, "there's stuff in a man's brain that's really not safe for work." it's kinda a balancing act. i think those aspects of who he is are worth keeping in mind, and i think wolf 359 being... the type of show that it is (and isn't) might give a softer / skewed perception of him, in the sense that people would probably view him a little differently if some cruder elements of who he is weren't expressed so indirectly. but, at the same time, the way he self censors is part of his characterization. and in part i would believe he tried to train himself out of swearing as an aspect of his sobriety, and how he spoke around anne (because he really wanted to be a good dad, but also because he really wanted to come across well during the custody battle.) as an extension of that, it's also one of the ways he's trying to rehabilitate (+ fictionalize) the idea of who doug eiffel is.

(realistically, he definitely feels there are a lot of things he shouldn't do, but he clearly didn't give up smoking. and he was probably adamant that he wouldn't smoke around his daughter, but he's a chain smoker, and it's still on him and in his clothes. a lot of things with eiffel come down to a conflict between his intentions + ideals and what effect his actions actually have. i'm sure he still slipped up and said plenty of things he shouldn't have. like i said, it's a balance.)

personally, i think eiffel is a (socks and) sandals guy, and otherwise... while velcro would probably be more practical for him, in my mind he's just got perpetually untied shoelaces. he can tie them, but they come untied no matter how he does it. and if you asked him if he can tie his shoes properly, he would get defensive about it and fumble and take a really long time to do it. he's also definitely the kind of person who uses rhymes, sayings, etc. to remember things, even things he does often. nothing more reassuring than a guy doing complex mechanical maintenance muttering "righty tighty, lefty loosey" to himself.

[arabellavernierwrites]

Hii! I saw you're seeking requests and I may have one for Spencer Reid if that's okay. What if Spencer is invited to hs school reunion, and he really hesitates to go and maybe even getting emotional because that kid went through so much trauma. And reader (his girlfriend) being all supportive and ultimately he decides to go if she comes with him. It's up to you if you continue the story, them being on the reunion (it's always up to you!). If you not want to write this, that's totally okay, but if you do, can u tag me? Much love

Maya

reunion. s.r.

summary : spencer gets invited to his high school reunion, when it proves to be more difficult that he anticipated , you’re there for him.

word count : 1709

warnings : mentions of bullying , panic attack

a/n: hello ! oh my gosh i have missed you guys so much. this is my very first request ! thank you so much maya for requesting a really awesome idea , you have been so lovely and so supportive and i really genuinely thank you so much for it ! go read maya’s work !!! and my requests and dm’s are always open if any of you want me to write anything for you ! you all have continued to show me so much love and support , and from the bottom of my heart, thank you, it truly means so much to me. for some reason, when using tumblr on my phone , i am unable to follow back or reply to comments, so i will be trying to figure it out on my computer. but just know i see all of your comments and they mean so much to me, and even if i can’t follow you back, i check all your accounts and stories out all the time ! thank you again for all of the support, this one is a bit long, but i wanted to make sure it held you over for my absence. having the most amazing and wonderful day ever ! love you !

@c-m-stuff

as another successful day of work had come to a close, you found yourself setting your handful of personal belongings on the kitchen counter. purse, pile of documents from work, the mail. you slid your shoes off and sorted through the stack of papers.

the usual. bills, local advertisements, paychecks. an envelope from an unfamiliar address caught your eye.

you’re invited! 15 year high school reunion. event information and rsvp directions stated below. hope to see you there!

“spencer?” you called, making your way to meet him in the living room.

“oh!” you caught him off guard as he peered up from his book, “how was work?”

“it was alright,” you took a seat next to him on the couch, handing him the card, “you got an invitation to your high school reunion. 15 years”.

“what?” a look of bewilderment struck his face, “why would they want me there?”

it’s no secret that spencer’s high school experience was tougher than most. years of harassment and relentless bullying plagued him. faces he couldn’t forget, names that danced around his mind, traumatic memories that kept him on edge for a lifetime. they were demons that followed spencer everywhere he went, forcing him to treat his life like a fortress that most people never got access to.

“spencer-” you started, rubbing the back of his neck.

“i’m not going,” he interrupted, tossing the invitation off to the side.

“alright,” you smiled, placing a kiss on his nervous lips.

you were quick to throw the card away, not wanting a reminder of high school sitting out at all hours of the day for spencer to reminisce on.

•

a few days later, you and spencer were wrapping up dinner and getting ready to get in bed. he put the dishes away as you grabbed the trash to take out.

opening the lid of the trashcan, you noticed the paper with the words ‘you’re invited!” splayed across the top was gone. you furrowed your brow, thinking spencer could’ve thrown it out on his way to work, maybe he tore it up, the details weren’t important.

“i think i might go,” spencer spoke quietly, noticing your confusion.

“you think that would be good for you?” you asked, wanting to take the matter seriously for his sake.

“i think i’m old enough now to feel more removed from it, more comfortable facing it again,” he responded, unsure.

“if that sounds like it will be a positive experience, i’m all for it,” you stated, wanting him to be sure of himself, no matter what decision he makes.

“there’s a possibility. it’s just,” spencer placed the stack of plates down in front of him, taking a shaky breath, “it’s hard”.

you walked over, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him close to you. he dug his face into your neck, trying not to sniffle as he squeezed you.

“i’m sure it is,” you replied, giving him the chance to elaborate.

“when i think of high school, i think of names and faces. people who put me through hell, people who watched. i just don’t think i can do it alone. i think it’ll be too much,” spencer whispered.

“well, you don’t have to do it alone,” you offered.

you knew what spencer had endured in high school. you knew what it meant for a child to be stripped naked by a teenager, you knew that those were traumatizing years for spencer, and you wanted to be there for him in any way that he needed. even if that meant catching a flight to las vegas to attend a high school reunion.

spencer released himself from your grasp, standing to look you in the eyes, “what do you mean?”

“well, if it offers you any support, i’ll go with you,” you reached up to brush his pretty hair behind his ear, “if you need encouragement, a hand to hold, anything. i’ll go with you”.

you both paused.

“you’re sure?” he asked, appearing timid.

“it’s up to you. if you feel like this event is something you would like to attend, and you need someone to go, of course, i’ll be there,” you assured, holding his hands.

spencer thought about it for a few seconds, looking down and chewing on his lip, “i’ll go if you come with me”.

you cheered, “vegas!”

he laughed, swooping down to kiss your lips, “thank you”.

“anything for you”.

•

the next few days had been chock-full of planning. making arrangements with your bosses about needing a few days off, purchasing plane tickets, and booking a hotel room occupied most of your time. but you mainly wanted to keep an eye on spencer, making sure that he was still okay with this somewhat spontaneous trip, and prepare yourself to cancel everything if he changed his mind.

packing was a breeze, the flight was quicker than expected, and the hotel room was nice. overall, spencer seemed to be doing fairly well. aside from the usual stresses of traveling, he seemed to be slightly more stressed than normal, but that was expected.

“how are you feeling?” you asked, straightening spencer’s bowtie in the mirror.

he swallowed nervously, his adam’s apple bobbing, “fine”.

“whenever you’re ready to leave, just let me know,” you promised, knowing it would comfort spencer to have some kind of an out of the event.

“okay,” he nodded, “you look beautiful”.

you tried not to blush, but were unable to keep the heat from rising to your cheeks, “thank you. you look very handsome”.

spencer looked down, a small smile forming on his face, “thank you”.

“ready to go?” you asked, fixing a strand of his hair.

“let’s go,” he reached down to give you a quick kiss.

the journey wasn’t too far from the school, you arrived within a few minutes of leaving the hotel. spencer kept his hand intertwined with yours the entire duration of the ride.

the front of the school was decorated nicely, streamers softly swayed with the breeze, balloons populated either side of the gymnasium doors, and a large “class of ‘94!” banner framed hung from above.

“this is cute,” you nodded at the decor as you and spencer got out of the car.

he was silent. he squeezed your hand uncomfortably, as if you were one of the balloons tied to the front of the school, and he was worried you were going to float out of his grasp. it took him a moment to be able to step through the double doors. his breath wavered as music pounded the walls in front of you.

“you can do this,” you placed a hand on his cheek, looking into his eyes in an attempt to ground him, “we can leave whenever you begin to feel uncomfortable. okay? step by step”.

spencer nodded, “step by step”.

he took a deep breath and walked in. he kept his head low, paying more attention to his shoes than the scene in front of him. a gym full of people, mostly in their early thirties, standing around talking, drinking, and fluttering about tables to reintroduce themselves to their former peers. the lights were dim, the dj seemed to be having a nice time, and nobody was without a smile.

spencer looked up, trying to keep himself stable. he continued breathing in and out, making sure his grasp was comfortable in your hand, and allowed himself to appreciate the vibrations of the booming music. if things continued like this, he could even picture himself having a decent time.

the two of you walked a lap around the tables, not quite ready to engage in conversation yet, but allowing spencer to become more comfortable. he poured the two of you a small glass of champagne to nurse while you chatted with each other. you smiled, proud of the man in front of you.

“spencer reid?” a voice called out, approaching the two of you.

spencer turned to look, all color draining from his face as he realized who it was, “alexa lisbon”.

“oh my gosh, i haven’t seen you since you were just a kid!” she chuckled, “how have you been? i’ve heard you’re working for the fbi now”.

spencer was speechless for a few moments. he was finding it increasingly more difficult to breathe, let alone form sentences, “yes”.

“nice to meet you, i’m spencer’s girlfriend,” you shook her hand politely.

“i’m sorry, we have to go,” spencer choked out, grabbing your wrist and practically dashing out of the room.

he threw his back against the side of the car, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes and sliding down slowly, “i’m sorry”.

“don’t be sorry,” you sunk down with him, rubbing his arms.

“it was just so dark, and so cold, and all those kids were just watching. they watched and they laughed. i couldn’t- i couldn’t even tell my mom about it-” spencer’s breath quicked.

“spencer,” you took both of his wrists in your hands, pulling them away from his eyes before he hurt himself, “look at me”.

he looked up, panic exploded behind his eyes like a menacing firework show. his hands shook, his lips quivered, he was lost inside his own mind.

“you’re here, with me,” you looked deep into his eyes, “we’ll go back to the hotel and get a great night of sleep, then we get to take a lovely flight home back to our warm bed. you’ll go back to work and morgan will ask you how your week was, he’ll ruffle your hair and you’ll roll your eyes as hotch tells you guys to focus. you’ll come home and we’ll have dinner and a bath. we’ll get in bed and you’ll read to me, or i’ll update you on the latest gossip magazine that you definitely don’t care about. you’ll kiss my lips and i’ll kiss yours. we live our own lives now, you aren’t that kid anymore. they can’t hurt you”.

“right,” spencer nodded his head slowly, gaining control over his thoughts again. you held him until his breath evened out, until his hands stopped shaking, and until he was feeling okay again.

you made a promise to be there for spencer, and because of it, he couldn’t be more in love with you.

[elderwisp]

The Sims is love. List 5 facts about a favorite sim couple of yours, and why you love them so much. Then pass this on to 5 others, whose sim couple(s) you also love. 💘💕

HIHI thank u for this ask! AHHH this is such a difficult question because i’ll get in these sappy/supportive moods whenever i’m working on certain couple arcs! there are even some that are top secret that are truly some favorites GAHHH. this is how i feel like, genuinely:

i do feel like lately, i hyperfixate on atlas’s relationships. one reason is i’m like in the trenches writing-wise where i’m finalizing some things. then the other is it’s one of those interesting dynamics between either parties that feel complicated but also being able to dissect it and go wow, love is truly versatile! both feel valid in their own ways and were the thing that maybe atlas might’ve needed in the moment. i really don’t have a favorite between the two because they’re both so idk, fulfilling to me. i think it would be neat to go over the relationship between atlas/taryn and atlas/rowan ft a wip pic:

𓆩♡𓆪 Atlas met Rowan in a very transitional phase of his life. There was a lot of uncertainty surrounding Atlas's future and it was truly a time where being a pushover was not working in his favor nor authentic towards any of his needs. Rowan has a knack for identifying someone in pain and gravitates towards it. Where Dan believes Rowan tried to take advantage of Atlas's insecurities, Rowan more so wanted to bring out those deeply rooted thoughts to the surface because why hide who you are? There's power in pain.

𓆩♡𓆪 Part of why I believe Taryn and Atlas's relationship would not be viable as of right now is Atlas is still really picking up the pieces of his tumultuous relationship with Rowan. I feel like break ups can go through the similar motions of grief just on a different scale. There's a lot of bouncing back and forth between anger and sadness, so couple that with his coping method creates a lot of chaos. There's a deeply rooted sentiment in Atlas that there is no way in hell he deserves a relationship with Taryn.

𓆩♡𓆪 Rowan sees a lot of himself in Atlas. The both struggle to really connect with their parents and dislike the concept of control. A desire for independence. They're artists and have an appreciation in self-indulgence. However, there is one huge difference and that's confidence. Atlas is much more insecure than he let's on and that causes a huge rift between the two.

𓆩♡𓆪 The other part would be Taryn's current state. I will start off with Atlas has been a huge influence on not only setting boundaries with people but also encouraging her to share her work, growth doesn't come at an incline but almost a jagged, bumpy mountain. (💀) All that encouragement to be vulnerable (the book, trying to open up her heart to atlas, the mf kids at the library) to be met with constant rejection is pushing her back into this almost hardened demeanor. It takes a lot of courage to open up and unfortunately she's reached her limit to do so.

𓆩♡𓆪 Rowan has always known that commitment to one person can feel incredibly constricting for someone who, well, likes to indulge. So while he absolutely adores Atlas, there's some conflict that arises in the notion of an open relationship. Atlas really struggles to grasp that idea (well less of an idea and more of this is reality baybeee) and it triggers those deeply rooted feelings of inadequacy.

𓆩♡𓆪 I will say Atlas and Taryn do take the longest to get together but it is really one of those scenes that makes me emotional. Seeing how they progress until that moment feels like two terrified people finally finding some solid ground in a world that is always shifting. It feels like the one thing that finally makes sense and Taryn, my god, she can be quite the romantic with her words and gestures.

[adamworu]

hii i just wanted to say thank you for the years uve been posting eva and hyper-analyzing the series and kaworu especially .. i found ur blog after watching the series back when the Kaworu Database consisted mostly of soundboards and shit like that and despite my waning interest in the series ive not had the impulse to unfollow u. which is weird for me, because at the ripe age of 26 there’s a lot about nge that doesnt sit right with me anymore.

i got my boyfriend to watch NGE and the rebuilds with me and found myself genuinely ashamed way more than i’d anticipated. the last movie was the nail in the coffin for me specifically because of, let’s face it, the surplus of self-aware asuka fanservice. i was repulsed and denounced my interest in the series entirely. it was difficult to make such a claim because of how important to me the series was (still is, if im being honest) and how pivotal it was to my growth at the time i first watched it.

saw one of your posts on my dash today and went to take a casual look at your blog cuz i was curious as to how you were faring in the sea of eva content after a solid 10 years. looked at one of your posts explaining what nge is at its core and the messages it means to send and How it sends them and found myself falling back into the mindset of “fuck, i missed this shit.”

i appreciate how many years you’ve spent looking at evangelion as a piece of psychological horror, how many years you’ve spent dissecting it under a microscope with 50000x magnification. you’ve been the Only thing that’s brought eva back to the front of my feeble little brain over the past, idk five years or so, and youve now been the reason why i can still appreciate the series despite its flaws. you don’t focus on those flaws and it reads that you do so not because you don’t care, but because they’re obvious and don’t need to be stated. im starting to ramble and im sorry that this ask was long but dming you felt too.. personal despite this message being exactly that.

TL;DR, thank you for analyzing evangelion and kaworu nagisa for many years and singlehandedly reminding me of all the reasons why i enjoyed the series as much as i did when i first watched it. i know your interest in eva is waning, so thank you for what youve given the world over the last 10 years <3

Thank you ever so much! This blog sort of started as a way for me to navigate Eva myself. It's been 10 years and though my passion has fizzled, I still get those visceral feelings of Eva no matter what. It always pulls me in. I still have some of that juice left in me, but mostly I found other source material at the moment I'm highkey obsessed over (I'll give you a hint: cult classic, starts with V, ends with D). It's not all bad. I hope you have a wonderful day :)

[leelesbo]

that helped a lot thank you so much hkjfghdg i definitely wouldnt have thought to do some of that, literally making a list of it to make sure i remember. due to distance reasons, we're currently long distance (but planning to visit soon, so all the stuff for irl is very very helpful), but since you offered to help more, do you have any other things that would be good for over the phone or via texting? some of what youve said ive picked up already and been doing, but just anything that might not be obvious to think of. or any kinds of pics or videos that would be flustering to see? he gets too shy to request for anything but i dont have any problem sending stuff like that, and ideally i'd wanna take more for him that lean into knismo stuff.

and thanks for saying its sweet hdfgjdkfj i wanna do my best for him and thought asking someone else might be the best place to get ideas. dont apologize at all for how much you wrote, it was all genuinely very helpful and insightful

YES OFC!!! im more than happy to yap >:3

okok so over text teasing Is Different but still essentially the same. and having such an easily flustered partner honestly makes it easier

so, if this is the kinda thing yall are into, i like my tickle teases over text to be almost like a play-by-play of how the other person would tickle me if they were there. this might sound weird, but genuinely something that’s really helpful for this is reading tickle fanfic. dead serious. because these authors go into detail of how characters are tickling each other, the extremely specific spots, how characters might react to spots like that, all the methods of how to do it and it’s written so you can take inspo for texting!! for non-knismos i can easily see how it’d be difficult to fully visualize the specifics of how to tickle someone when you’re trying to write it out, so genuinely a helpful tool is taking inspo from good tickle writers!! i’ve found a lot of good fics on ao3 and tumblr from critical role, magnus archives, bungou stray dogs, mha (a lot of the fics with the ADULT CHARACTERS are really good shut up), and many more, but if u want any specific recs lmk!! (im literally not even in those fandoms i just love the way a lot of the tickle fics in those fandoms are written hdjshf)

so, like i said, a play by play. how you’d get them in the position where they’re about to be tickled (maybe you pinned them, maybe you want them tied up). anticipation is a huuuuge factor. the buildup works knismos up like CRAZY, it makes us feel more sensitive and it literally does make us feel shit even over text. tell him how you’d hover your fingers over specific spots, maybe lightly tease his worst/favorite spots with just a single finger until he’s begging you to get it over with. it’ll get him squirming in no time, trust me.

again, being specific it’s important, at least to me 😭😭 talking about the way in which you’d tickle spots is great. pinching ribs (especially if you’re pinching each specific rib and working ur way up or down), scribbling over sides to make him squirm, one finger in each underarm, digging ur thumbs in the pockets of his hips. just saying “i’ll tickle your hips” isn’t really be enough (again, at least for me!! personal preference 😌☝️) so if you’re able to figure out methods he likes best, it’ll work wonders for you.

also!!! sending stuff!!! if you find out spots he really likes, sending gifs or clips of people being tickled in those spots is a great way to get him blushing!! especially if u tell him that’s how ur gonna get him when yall visit :3 pretty much letting him know you’ve been researching and finding videos/clips/gifs so you’ll know how best to tickle him when ur together is Great

if you’re wanting to send something of You to him, i’ve seen a lot of lers make videos of them . tickling pillows? or just like, hand videos in general (wiggling their fingers n shit lol). i think wiggly finger videos are really cute and pretty flustering but the pillow thing isn’t really my cup of tea, just depends on what ur partner would prefer :) idk ive just seen stuff like that floating around here so if u think he’d like it u could try that out lol

alright!!!! again, hope that helped any, and if u need anything else hmu again bc im happy to help!!!! yapping abt tickling is my specialty

[finniestoncrane]

False Pretences

capullo!riddler x female!reader, word count: 2.2k i just wrote this one for myself because i love him and i'm sorry i know i have requests but i haven't done anything for just me in a while u-u expanded on this lil ficlet from a 'first date' prompt and added some typical zero year smut in 💚 ily greg capullo, my clit owes you one request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: lying, language, pining, lil bit of flirty touching, praise, sex, sprinkle of misogyny, raging ego eddie, self-image issues, eddie's dick is smaller than average and he's about to make it everyone's problem, when it is really a blessing

It’s not really a date.

But at the back of your mind, you were convinced that it might be. So why had you agreed to it?

Look, there’s a lot of reasons to tell him to fuck off. And one throbbing, desperate reason to say yes and take the risk.

In the worst-case scenario, he might reveal some strange, deep feelings for you. Best case, you get a free meal and some sex. And with that final affirmation, you let go of your tight, white-knuckle grip of the steering wheel and left your car, walking up the steps to the apartment building and hitting the buzzer for Edward, the little label next to his number just a little question-mark and a winking face, making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Uh…it’s me.”

“Who is me?”

“Are you shitting me?”

“Oh! It’s you! You sounded too cheerful before, back to your usual surly self now. Come on up!”

As the door was unlocked and the buzzing tone hummed in your ears, you side-glanced at the walk, at your car, at your last chance to not make a huge mistake. And you stepped inside anyway, feeling the door close behind you like an airlock on some doomed spaceship. No way out. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant building, and as much as you hoped his own apartment might be nicer, you knew him too well to get your hopes up too high. You rounded the corner and saw him standing against his open door, leaning against the frame.

“You’re dressed nice.”

“You’re…not.”

He shrugged at you as you looked him up and down. His usual put together outfit looked a lot more dishevelled. Chartreuse pants still on, they were creased. No shoes, just his black socks, which had holes in them, weird that was what was beneath his neatly polished dress shoes usually. His black shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, unbuttoned further than usual to his chest. His hair, still slicked back, but with grease more than pomade. No mask, no gloves, no hat. It was weird seeing him like that. But it made him a lot less daunting. You hated to admit it, but the way he usually presented himself was effective in portraying him as a confident, charismatic man. Very difficult to reconcile that with the man before you. It was difficult to decide if it made this easier or not. Would you rather be on a date with this man, who was less distressing to be around but ultimately unable to conceal what a loser he was, Edward Nygma? Or would it have been better to be on a date with the intimidating, but at least vaguely able to restrain himself, Riddler?

Didn’t matter, because you were stuck with the sleazy idiot who was currently looking you up and down as you approached his door.

“It’s casual, what did you expect?”

“I…genuinely had no idea what to…wait, how casual?” You were suddenly very aware that the black dress you wore, hitting just above your knees, and how formal it appeared.

Thank god you decided to throw your shitty kicks on to counter balance it. Not such a stupid idea now.

“It’s uh…” his eyes lingered on your bare legs, eyebrows raising at your footwear, before he slowly trailed his gaze back up to your face. “…pretty casual. Come on in.” He tilted his head towards the apartment as he walked inside, holding the door for you. You followed him, catching it with your hand and letting it close behind you with an echoing thud.

He asked you round for food and a movie. Dinner and a movie. ‘Dinner and a movie’ is a date. Right? Right!?

But you already knew you were doomed when you could smell the food, pizza, and could hear the other voices.

“Ed, is this a party?”

“Uh…yeah. I guess so. What else would it be? What? I’m just going to invite you round to my house for free food?”

Idiot. Both of you. Maybe it was nice though? He…liked you enough to show you off in front of his friends? Or at least introduce you to them. Why did you care!?

As you followed him into the lounge, you could feel your face, your whole body, cringing.

“These are my friends.” There were some scattered ‘heys’, a couple of them turning to shoot you a polite smile and the rest ignoring you in favour of whatever action movie it was on the TV.

“You started the movie already?”

“Well, it’s a trilogy, so there’s two more to watch. You’re not missing much with the plot.”

Is jumping out of the window too dramatic?

“Do you want a drink? I have beer and…water?”

“Beer is fine.”

“Hey! Look at you, getting fun!” He slung his arm around your shoulder, shaking you lightly before grabbing you both a beer from hid fridge and heading to his sofa. You stood awkwardly. There was nowhere left to sit, and it was doubtful that a single one of the men in the room were going to give up their spot for you.

“Oh, shit…ok, come sit with me.”

“I don’t think there’s enough space, Ed.”

“No, sit on me dummy.”

You laughed a bit, looking at him, waiting for him to laugh back. But instead, he patted his lap. And as humiliating as it was, and would be, you were kind of ok with it. What else did you come here for? To be close to him. To flirt with him. Because despite yourself, and despite everything about him, you were still attracted to him. Either you could break through and learn that there was something redeemable to love under the disgusting yet attractive surface, or you could fuck the bad boy and get it out of your system, leaving you to get back to your life. Win-win.

Awkwardly lowering yourself onto his lap, so grateful that none of his friends had looked away from the screen long enough to notice you being grabbed by the hips and dropped down onto him. He grunted as he wrapped his arms around your front.

“There you go.”

It was difficult to tell if this was something he had planned for, but you weren’t too bothered. When he placed his head on your shoulder, his sideburns tickling against your cheek, you could feel yourself melt into him a little. Maybe a bit too relaxed, as it became evident that your wiggling, laughing at the stupid jokes he whispered into your ear, was something he was enjoying a bit too much. You shifted a little, trying to ignore the obvious erection that he was making no effort to hide, trying not to be flattered by it, but despite your best efforts you were blushing at it. You hated yourself for falling for him.

But it was short-lived, as it became increasingly less likely that his attraction to you was the reason you were invited over. Even when you thought you were going to be alone, at the end of the three excruciatingly boring movies, when his friends had left, you were asked to stay behind to clean up only.

“You know what, Eddie?” You picked up some empty beer cans, back turned to him so he couldn’t see the disappointment on your face. “I really thought this was…” You sighed, turning to face him, to see if your words were anymore likely to come out, easier to scold him or to tell him the truth of your disappointment. But as you turned, he was standing before you, hands knocking away everything you were carrying before wrapping around your back, stumbling into you, knocking you back into the wall where his lips met yours.

His kiss was sloppy, yearning, longing evident in the way his hands were unable to find a space to stop, running along your sides, round your back, gripping your waist, your ass. They dragged up your stomach, pulling at your shirt, sliding under your bra to cup at your breasts while he sighed against you, harmonizing with your moans, a symphony of explicit pleasure.

With his free hand, he let his fingers wander up your thigh, flicking up the bottom of your dress, making no effort to tease you, to let it seem like this was going to be a gentle, romantic affair. He slid your panties to the side, fingers pressing against you, moving side to side, pressing between your lips and laughing into the kisses he smothered your neck in as you gasped and moaned, arching your back against the wall into him.

“Hmm…wet already…I thought I could feel something warm when you were on my lap.” You could feel his smug grin against your skin.

“Eddie…”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

He thrust two of his fingers inside of you, curling them up, stretching them apart slightly, listening to your breathing to figure out which movements made you moan the most. With his free hand, now no longer grasping at your breasts or clutching your waist, he held your chin, forcing you to look up at him and into his eyes. The smarmy grin, the glint in the green surrounding his pupils, it was overwhelming.

“Oh, Eddie…”

“Mhm, I thought so.”

Removing his hand swiftly from between your legs, admiring the slick that covered his fingers before rubbing them down his shirt, he gripped your forearms, pulling you towards the sofa, swiping the crumbs and empty cans from it, so romantic. As he lay back, he dragged you down with him, positioning you on top of him. With his arms and legs tangled around you, holding you into him, tightly pressed on his writhing body, you could feel yourself kissing him harder, more violent as you bit down on his lip and pulled it out as he hissed in pleasure.

Noticing his hands were no longer exploring your curves, tangling into your hair and pulling at your clothes, you heard his zip being undone, his breath hitching slightly as he gripped his stiff cock tight, rubbing his palm against it as he looked at your lips, stretching his neck out to kiss you while you lowered yourself onto him.

In a surprise twist, the sound he made as he entered you was more of a whimper than the grunt you had expected. High in pitch, desperate in tone. He shuddered as he bucked his hips up and into you, halting as your bodies slapped together, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

“Are you…is this ok, Ed?”

“Mhm, great. Is it…so far?”

You stared down at him, palm to his cheek, a kiss on his forehead as you tried to stay still, tried to push past the delicious sensation of him inside of you to try and stay tender in the moment.

“Eddie, this is good.”

“I’m good?”

“You’re good.” You giggled at the question, but his cheeks reddened, guilt flooding your stomach.

“Tell me…tell me it feels good.”

“Eddie, it feels amazing.” You lifted your hips slightly, lightly moving them from side to side, clenching around him inside of you.

“I’m…enough?”

“Enough?”

“Like…big…”

The fragile ego, shattered self-image, narcissism out the window for the moment, he was letting himself be vulnerable. He looked entirely different in this light, weakened by his sense of inadequacy. But while it mattered a lot to him, it didn’t matter at all to you.

“Eddie, you feel amazing. You’re feel perfect, don’t you think we fit. So. Good. Together?” You lifted yourself up and down onto him with each word. Hands trailing up to hold his behind his head, back arching low, kissing him as you lifted your hips up and down on top of him, letting him fill you up.

“Eddie…god…that’s so good…you’re so…hmm…good.”

“Yeah…I am…I’m amazing…I’m really…the best…”

There he was, the Eddie you unfortunately found irresistibly attractive. And the lopsided little grin he managed to eek out through his gritted teeth, both of your words of praise bringing out the best, or worst, in him, it drove you wild.

“Eddie, you’re gonna make me…I’m so close…Eddie…”

“Ok, ok…don’t stop…keep telling me…tell me I’m good…”

“You’re the best, Eddie.”

“The best…”

“Completely amazing.”

“Amazing…”

“You’re fucking spectacular.”

With his fingers laced around yours, grip white-knuckle tight, he arched his back into you, groaning loud and softening into a quiet growl as he finished the last throes of his orgasm. You found yourself cumming after him, the guttural sounds emanating from his smug mouth enough to push you over the edge.

Letting his already disgusting sofa get even filthier, you lifted yourself off of him and lay down on his chest, smiling up at him, waiting for him to thank you, for your words, for the experience, for letting him fuck you even after he invited you round to the worst evening of your life.

“Ok, so you wanna get up and finish tidying? I would help but I’m super tired now.” Smirk on his lips, he had the audacity to wink at you as he grabbed your ass before lifting you off of him.

[ninjasmudge]

Long ask incoming I'm sorry I know I wrote it as a reply to a comment but I'ma just throw this ask here to going deeper into it after seeing Knox's discord part but. Bone King and his emotions it's just. SO INTERESTING. Like all the emotions (so far at least) acted on usually are ones that LBD/Wukong share. So Macaque both have a "He's annoying" but also a kind of ~*affection*~ (I use this loosely since idk s3 but Wukong at least *knew* Macaque enough they were *probably* friends) so it boils down to interest since that's the best they combine to. Meanwhile with the Mayor you only have LBD's "He's the favorite" but Wukong with Nothing so those two boil down to basically "we'll keep him around" but there isn't an agreeance on how. Then his base emotion of just "we shouldn't be a thing" and I don't think *either* Wukong/LBDs emotions like that and only Wukong's side offers any kind of "solution" hence Macaque being groomed a bunch (plus that ties into the "keep him around" by making sure he can't leave) and AAAAA... I just really like psychoanalyzing Bone King. His reactions are so complex in the sense both sides will have an *emotion* to it but only the shared parts will have Bone King reacting and it's two half are already VERY different in personality and aaaaaAAAAAAAAa

sorry i left this for a while i love all stuff in here and it was frustrating me i couldnt get out what i wanted to say back ^^

when i actually made this au the initial thought was like 'damn wouldnt this be a cool idea for the aesthetics' and then what really got me into the idea was thinking about how the bone king would feel about stuff. like, their conflicting feeling on so many things make them such an interesting character and when i started thinking about it deeper, even the stuff the do agree on is for vastly different reasons. and dont even get me started on trying to understand what their goal is sksbskssn. i think a lot of what u said s what makes them a really fun and terrifying villain though because theres NO way to predict what theyre going to do because THEY dont know yet either!

also it makes me SO SO happy you picked up on some of the stuff i was trying to say about how their feelings vs memories work, sometimes i dont know if im getting it all out right, but genuinely im so happy you were able to not only understand what i was trying to say but also put it so succinctly!! what you said about their feelings on maq and the mayor are pretty much spot on to how i was picturing it!

to be honest, even working out stuff like where they would stay was difficult because i think being on flower fruit would make swk uncomfortable and lbd would hate it, but swk wouldnt want to be in lbds mech, so they stay on a neutral ground. i mean, conflicted is probably one of the main words id use to describe BK overall and everytime i answer an ask i have to sit and think for a moment bc sometimes even the obvious answer is not the most accurate or interesting option. like, when i thought about what theyd think of mk, to start with i thought theyd be interested and hostile, but the more i thought about it, i kind of thought, they actually probably wouldnt be THAT hostile unless provoked bc swk definitely doesnt want to hurt him, and lbd wanted him for some kind of destiny, and when she took his powers, she definitely COULD have hurt him more, but didnt, i think theyre mostly interested in scaring him!

idk how to end this but thank you so much for the interest it absolutely delights me when i see stuff like this and again, sorry it took me so long sksjsksjssk

[softluci]

aggressive affection, i think

(part two here!)

[ @yourlocalsinnamonroll​ (hi!) sent me an ask to do more gen z headcanons and i started working on something for her, except it isn’t actually a set of headcanons, but rather a really long...one-shot? but anyway, i thought of actual headcanons that i can share now, so i can return to my ROOTS hopefully this will do in the meantime. ]

i’m not sure if this is something unique to younger people, but i am one hundred percent sure that younger people do it a lot, just going off of the behavior of my friends and i. (i’m gonna tell you now that this isn’t entirely sfw, so minors dni please and thank u)

but i’ve found that it’s pretty common for friends to be, like, aggressively affectionate with one another, for lack of a better phrase. if not aggressively affectionate, then just really flirtatious, often for no reason, and it is still meant entirely in a platonic sense. some examples of this that i have experienced include, but are not limited to:

“i’m gonna eat you,” “do u wanna make out,” “just remember, no matter WHAT happens, i will ALWAYS wanna make out with you,”  “i have literally wanted to fuck all of you at some point,” “let’s have sex,” “stfu before i kiss you,” [points to lap] “is this seat taken?” “every day i’m like, ‘wow, [name] is so cool, we should make out,’” and so on and so forth.

so you can imagine the fun i’m about to have.

lucifer

“blindsided,” does not even begin to describe what you’ve done to this man. while his recovery time was quick, he was still so, so confused. 

all he said was, “you look nice today,” why did you threaten to kiss him? was that even a threat? 

he doesn’t know because you said, “stop before you get kissed on the mouth,” but it doesn’t matter because you failed to consider that he is obsessed with you in dire need of a kiss on the mouth, and you, silly thing that you are, just provided conditions under which he can get one. 

that said, have fun trying to explain to this man that you were joking while he’s holding you against him with the most smug look on his dumb little face. if you don’t wanna kiss him, okay, but by the time he feels like letting you go, your face is gonna be scorching and you will have properly learned not to do that again. unless you enjoyed yourself, in which case—

by the way, if you believe in a higher power, you had better pray he doesn’t do this to you because now that you’ve planted the idea in his villainous little brain, he’s just biding his time. so the next time you compliment him innocently, and he says, “be quiet before i kiss you,” like the monster he is, assert your dominance by kissing him first, it’s the only way to maintain your dignity. 

mammon

why would you do that to him. he is literally in love with you, you can’t be doing this. he knows he’s an attractive person, but you can’t tell him that, and you especially can’t do it by flirting with him, it’s embarrassingly disarming. especially since he was going to make fun of you once he saw that you were looking at the issue of majolish with him on the cover. he had a plan and everything, and you ruined it. he was gonna say something dumb cool, after which you would be embarrassed , and he would laugh. 

but then you looked at him, said, “i’m gonna eat you,” and his entire plan was thwarted. now you have to stand there and watch him struggle to form a sentence while his face gets red. you should take this opportunity to bite him, give him a little nom on the shoulder or something, just to razz him. it’ll be great, i promise. 

luckily, he can’t even think about doing this to you without having to lie down, so you should be safe—unless, of course, he catches both you and himself by surprise. so if you get nommed on, you had it coming. 

levi 

you menace. you absolute villain. you’re laughing. 

levi was about to go into a match he was nervous about, and then you said, “it’s okay, no matter what happens, i will always wanna make out with you,” and then he dropped his controller and blacked out, and you’re laughing. 

you’re terrible. absolutely awful. acquaint yourself with shame while you blow cool air into his face and shake him awake. 

when he does wake up, and he reminds you that he’s the avatar of envy, do nawt be surprised. 

try to explain to him that you were kidding and let it slip that you say these types of things to everyone and you’re getting a tail around your waist. no matter how much he might stutter while he makes his point, the fact remains that he’s the only one you’re allowed to say these things to now. you can do it to the others while he’s not around if you feel so inclined, but he’s going to find out eventually, so good luck explaining yourself while he doesn’t keep his tail still when he uses it to hold you in place. 

your only saving grace here is that he is physically incapable of doing it to you, but, you know. that probably gets overridden by how possessive he’s gonna get.

satan

you’re deranged. or just really confident. or a fool. it doesn’t matter, you fucked up. he said a normal thing, and then you threw him for a loop. 

you were nervous about an exam the next day, he said, “you’re a capable person, you have nothing to be worried about.” 

and then you, evidently forgetting that he is not one of your human friends, said, “flattery will get you made out with,” and tried to walk away. 

first of all, how was that flattery? he was stating a fact. second of all, who said he didn’t wanna make out with you🤨. he never said that, you are making assumptions about him and his character. 

anyway, he has no idea where you think you’re going, but you didn’t make it very far before he caught up to you anyway. 

when he repeats what you said back to you in the form of a question, with that deceptively polite look on his face, know that he is being rhetorical. do not bother trying to explain yourself, it’ll be difficult to do so in a convincing manner while he’s backing you up to the nearest wall. do not be surprised when he takes this opportunity to blindside you with praise, directly into your ear, with that fatally smooth voice of his. and do NAWT be surprised when he pulls back and says, “why am i not being made out with?” with a dumb little smile. it brings him a lot of joy to see you squirm.

you don’t even have a saving grace here. this man is ruthless, he’s gonna do this to you literally whenever he wants, and he won’t even let you look away, let alone run away, so find joy in the monster you have created. 

asmo

listen. unless you are genuinely empty headed, there is absolutely no way you did this on accident. 

he wasn’t even doing anything out of character either, it was the middle of self-care night, he was putting moisturizer on your face for you, and he went, “you’re even cuter up close,” which is a normal, tame thing for him to say.

so unless you just have uncontrollable knee-jerk reactions, no way did you say, “so make out with me then,” to this man, by accident.

you’re lucky he has some knowledge of the fact that you sometimes say things that aren’t smart, so he didn’t just immediately jump on you; however, you are by no means in the Clear. 

you blinked and he was nose to nose with you and basically in your lap. now you have to deal with his wandering hands while you try and explain yourself—that is, if you can even overcome how flustered you are, which you probably can’t. luckily, he knows you probably didn’t mean it, but he’s still asmo, so he takes it upon himself to be respectfully heinous like the gentleman he is.

so when he somehow manages to get even closer to you and says, “honey, you should really get a handle on those impulses of yours, unless you plan on following through,” like the bastard he is, know that from that point forward, whatever happens is on you. 

here is another man with whom you have no saving grace; now that you’ve given him the idea that he can be more explicit with you,,, well.

beel

you’re a heathen. why would you do something like this. well, you know what, maybe you aren’t that much of a heathen, considering that you did bake cookies for him. that was really sweet of you, so he thanked you and complimented your skill, like a regular person.

so why, exactly, did you say, “i only accept thanks in the form of kisses, preferably with tongue,” ? something is genuinely not right with you. 

now you have this man standing there, confused and red in the face. he’s trying to do the math, and nothing is adding up. like, it’s definitely doable, he can definitely do that, but, like, why would you make this request so suddenly?

this is probably the only instance in which you can coherently say, “i was kidding, you don’t actually have to do that,” and it almost doesn’t work. 

you absolutely should not have been leaning against the counter because now he’s standing in front of you, and you have nowhere to run. 

however, the thing about beel is that he is someone who flusters people without meaning to, so he has no idea of the effect that his, “are you sure?” has on you. 

luckily, you’re still mostly coherent because you know that beel isn’t heinous like his brothers, so you manage to tell him that he doesn’t have to kiss you if he doesn’t want to because you were kidding. 

you have every right to be surprised when, all of a sudden, you’re sitting on the counter, and he says, “why do you think i don’t want to?” 

do you have a saving grace with this man? kind of. he would never say what you said or something similar, but the next time he compliments you and you choose to be normal and say, “thank you,” he’s gonna ask if he should kiss you, so try not to collapse.

belphie

now. he isn’t the Worst Person you could’ve done this with. but by god you are out of your mind.

your first mistake was choosing to lie down next to him, not because you had plans to be a menace, but because he is always a menace and has a thing for reminding you, which he can do more easily when you’re in proximity to him. 

so when he said, out of nowhere, “are you ticklish?” you should’ve just rolled away, which wouldn’t have worked, but it would have been less chaotic then saying, “you are legally required to make out with me before you try and find out.” 

you said it so casually that he was almost stunned into staying still, but his recovery time was excellent.

the next thing you knew, you were laying underneath a very smug, very menacing man, who seemed entirely too prepared to listen to what you had to say for once. 

“legally?”

okay, so, maybe you should’ve chosen your words more carefully, but he was seconds away from tickling you, so you didn’t exactly have time to defend yourself. you can never backtrack with belphie anyway, so it makes sense that you went headlong into your claim, telling him that yes, this is, in fact, the law of the land. 

“i was never one to pay attention to the law, but since you’re being so insistent, i guess i don’t really have a choice—”

leave it to him to pretend like you’re a burden as if he isn’t literally head over heels in love with you like everyone else fond of you. bastard. 

there is absolutely nothing to save you from this man. he isn’t tactful enough to wait for an opportunity to do this to you, like satan or lucifer, so expect to be Just Sitting There when he tells you that you’re required to make out with him right this instant—it’s the law. 

[s-brant]

if you’re still willing to write blurbs from tokens (which i LOVE btw), could you do one about y/n’s first time? you mentioned that she lost her virginity to jj, and i would love to see how that played out <3

thank you!! 🥰 and okay so for some reason these past few weeks I haven’t been able to write at all (it’s killing me lmao) so these are gonna be headcanons cause that’s all I can do (here’s the series masterlist if any of u are interested) needless to say, nsfw below the cut

So it was definitely Y/N initiating it. I’m pretty sure it was mentioned that she came onto him first when it happened, ‘cause even though it wasn’t wrong of him to be attracted to her, he still kinda followed that unspoken “no macking on John B’s sister” rule between the Pogues.

They kissed once the week before, but he just told himself it was a one-off thing because they were both grieving/upset/lonely after losing someone they loved. In the first few weeks after John B and Sarah were lost at sea, Kie and Pope parted from the group all the time and left her and JJ living alone in the Chataeu together. He figured, since they were going through shit together and we’re isolating themselves from the world together, that it wasn’t serious.

Buuuut the man is only human, and when she made her intentions clear, that no macking rule was nowhere to be found.

This time, it was clearly different. They were making out on that couch where they had their first kiss (on the back porch) and things were getting pretty heated.

She’d come out of the house after she showered to find him smoking out there and sat down next to him while scrolling through her phone for a good five minutes before she clicked it off, let it fall face down on the couch cushion, and was essentially like “I’m bored, wanna make out?” since they’d already kissed before.

They were going at it for a while before she realized he was hard, but clearly not doing anything about it because he knew she was super inexperienced, and was like oh okay and thought about it for another few minutes before she decided to make a move.

It was somewhat difficult for her to get her hand between them to start palming him through his shorts since he was on top of her, his weight keeping her pinned to the couch. But when she did, it took him a delayed few seconds to jerk away from her in surprise. She took it as a massive ego crush, obviously, and her face got so red as she asked if she did something wrong, apologizing profusely before he could even get a word out.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, JJ, I should’ve asked first—“

He was immediately grabbing her wrists to pull her hands away from where they covered her face in embarrassment, and she was mortified to see him laughing. Not the brightest move on his part, considering how mortified she looked, but he couldn’t help himself.

He made it very clear he wasn’t laughing at what she did though, just how cute her reaction had been. The laughter died down hella fast when he had to get serious for a second to ask her if she actually wanted to take things further or if it was yet another one-off incident like the other time they kissed.

Needless to say, he outright refused to do it out there. He wouldn’t necessarily have called himself a sentimental person when it came to sex, and he sure as hell wasn’t picky about where it happened for himself, but he knew it was her first time and wanted it to be somewhat special for her—meaning he wasn’t about to let it happen on a cramped, uncomfortable couch that wasn’t even tall enough for them to lay without bending their legs.

Once they actually were in her room and got to the main event, it was sort of like it was his first time too. He wasn’t used to being as caring and gentle during sex as he was with her that night, murmuring soft praises to keep her confidence up and reassure her when she seemed unsure of what she was doing. His hands guided her hips as he instructed her to move with him. Then, once she seemed to match the rhythm of his thrusts, he pulled her arms up around his shoulders and started to fuck her a little harder.

He found it hot to teach her what to do tbh. She kept looking to him for guidance and hung off his every word, and he already knew he liked being in control but that really confirmed that for him.

The only part that he didn’t enjoy as much was the position. It was her first time, so missionary was a no brainer and pretty much a rite of passage, but every other time they had after that up until the day they did their matching tattoos, they never did it that way again. JJ always felt uneasy with the inherent intimacy of that position until he got more comfortable with/fully started to trust her.

I feel like it was just very sweet and soft, and he was very attentive to her needs and feelings the whole time, which made it a very new and fresh experience for him too since he’d never been someone’s first before. After all, they knew each other for years, so he already cared about her a lot more than most people and had feelings for her on top of that, so he really wanted it to be good.

She was in heaven the entire time once she got over the initial discomfort at first. It was like her best daydreams came to life. Her brother’s hot best friend, a notorious player, was taking her virginity and being so sweet with her. He kept praising her, kissing her, and looking at him was nearly enough in and of itself to turn her on. I meannn, seeing him start to work up a sweat and watching his muscles flex with his movements 👀

She genuinely thought she was dreaming it here and there cause it literally felt like a wet dream

But, once it was over and they were confronted with the reality of what happened, it was clear it wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t awkward, but the realization of what they did definitely hit them and they were kind of laying there like, “Did that actually just happen?” for a while.

They were back to joking around and being the same oblivious idiots we know and love after he helped her clean up and tossed her one of his shirts from the dresser tho.

They started having casual sex later that week and then we all know what happens after that ;)

[tokyokookmin]

I saw an ask related to this subject on this blog before, and I just thought of sharing this, a similar experience - I am ethnically Korean, and to be honest, it's kind of implausible for me to interact with international blogs and people because of their acutely distressing perception that I, as an Asian, can't converse in English, especially not in the finer level of English and because of that my identity is constantly questioned (even in real life) and assumed to be either of an American or an European, when I've spent my entire life in Ulsan, and also because they think that English is only limited to them? Yeah. I also think that some of us have to write the asks in Korean to prove that we actually are, because the moment we say anything in English, the other side assumes the exact opposite, and I genuinely believe that our side should stop sharing any kind of sensitive information or any kind of veiled information because of that and other obvious reasons because it's... Just not worth it.

- I think you've got to be the kindest person in here therefore I shared this with you. Take care of yourself. ❤️

As an Asian myself, I totally understand what you're trying to imply here. Everything you said here is factual. I do know that most jikook blogs are run by international armys except for Euna and me (based on what I know).

"because of their acutely distressing perception that I, as an Asian, can't converse in English, especially not in the finer level of English"

Anon, first of all, your English is immaculate, your ask has been beautifully written. I know the feeling of not being able to keep up with society's demands and what they expect you to be. This is a sensitive topic and we should converse about it more. Not all have the same perception, especially with jikook blogs, I have interacted with them numerous times and they're all jolly people.

It must be understood by natives that our English may get mixed up since we all have different ways of speaking in our continent or to be more specific, our motherland. We have different accents which might make our pronunciation more difficult to be understood. People are quick to judge, that's normal. We can't really change them.

"American or an European, when I've spent my entire life in Ulsan, and also because they think that English is only limited to them?"

Need to clear this out lol, English isn't reserved only for westerners, ENGLISH IS A GLOBAL LANGUAGE. We learn English to be able to communicate with people.

"I also think that some of us have to write the asks in Korean to prove that we actually are because the moment we say anything in English, the other side assumes the exact opposite"

Most Koreans in this generation can speak English, am I right? We shouldn't perceive them as a bunch of illiterates just because they can't, especially towards elders, like they were surviving to earn and to feed their families. Anyways, it's pretty sad I would say, having the fact to speak or type in Korean just because they have good English proficiency.

Anon, feel free to speak in Korean and English, mix them up. You don't need to share detailed information with them if you don't feel comfortable. Have fun in your life, people will judge in every way they can but you only live once, so live your life. Don't be afraid and you can always come back here to my blog, im very welcoming. xx.

I love u anon. Thank you for that lovely compliment, makes my day a lot better!

Dhanyavaad. Terima kasih. Xie-xie. Kamsamnida. Thank you.

[generallynerdy]

Uncalled they come to me, and told, they still won’t leave me (Din Djarin/Soulmate!Reader)

Spoilers for Chapter 9 (S2E1) of the Mandalorian

Summary: After the ambitious Toro Calican turns on you, his hired mechanic, in hopes of winning favour with the Guild, the mysterious Mandalorian saves your life. Now that you owe him a life debt, he’s stuck with you until you can save him back. It’s not so bad, having a free mechanic and babysitter for the kid, but things take a turn for the worse when both of you realise you might be catching feelings. For someone that might not even be your Soulmate.

Requested by Anon: Hello! How’re you doing? May I please request a Din x reader soulmate au? The one where you don’t see color until you touch your soulmate? It would be very difficult for Din to find his soulmate and I’ve always wanted to see how it played out. If not that’s ok! Thank you and have a wonderful day ❤️

Key: (Y/N) - your name, (h/c) - hair colour, (e/c) - eye colour Translations: vode - siblings, Ret’urcye mhi - goodbye (literally: may we meet again), mirshmure’cya - brain-kiss (Basic term, is Keldabe kiss. This is the soft one as opposed to the literal headbutt term) Asked to be tagged in this disaster: @pearlll09 Word Count: remember when i said this would be 4k? Yeah. It’s 6,478 words. What. The. Fuck.

Author’s Note: this is way longer than I intended it to be but I think u deserve it since u were the only one who saw my post begging for mando requests and actually sent one hksjlfdkj tysm!! I’m so happy I got to write a Soulmate AU for him tbh. Btw, I have it in my head that Yodito would’ve given him the ability to see green, as a familial Soulmate bond, but it wouldn’t work for this if your eyes are green so I just left it out. (Also wtf is up with the Cobb/Din shit, Cobb is clearly in a dedicated relationship with the bartender Weequay. I named them Sala :D) The title is from The Teller of Tales by Gabriela Mistral.

Read On AO3

*

“Do you wear those gloves all the time?”

The Mando gives you a look—one that you can’t read, obviously, but you get the idea that it’s drier than the desert you’re in.

Calican snorts, but you shoot him a glare and he shuts up. You’re only here because he’s paying well for your mechanical skills, enough that his request of an extra hand on his first bounty seemed reasonable. Finding out that he’s hunting Fennec Shand was...less than pleasing, but now that the Mando is onboard, you’re not quite so worried about the outcome. They’re supposed to be fearsome warriors, after all. And he was smart enough to figure out how to wait out Shand, which is what the three of you have been doing for hours.

“I’m just saying,” you continue, “between the armour and the gloves, it must be damn near impossible to find your Soulmate.”

He shrugs. Sort of. It’s kind of hard to tell, to be honest.

“Haven’t you heard the stories?” Calican asks, flopping back onto the sand. “Mandalorians don’t have Soulmates. They start seeing colour after their first battle; war is their only destiny.”

You roll your eyes. They’re folk tales, really, and ridiculous ones at that. Every sentient has at least one Soulmate, romantic, platonic, familial, or otherwise, and there’s no reason for Mandalorians to be any different. Still, the stories make their rounds. There are specific ones, too, like the one about the Mandalorian Jedi who made the Darksaber; he was said to see colour when he lit his weapon for the first time. Fett, too, was said to have seen a new colour with every clone that was decanted—which is mildly ridiculous.

“Maybe the Mandalorians of old,” Mando comments with a scoff. “Not many of us see battle these days.”

“Well, if you’re looking for it, I know a krayt dragon a few hundred klicks away,” you suggest lightly.

He snorts. “No thanks. I’ll take the assassin.”

“Speaking of,” you said, “you guys know I’m just a mechanic, right?”

There’s a pause. Calican nods, but the Mando is still.

“What?” he asks, displeasure in his voice.

“I mean, I’m pretty good with a blaster, but I’m gonna be useless against Fennec Shand.”

Mando whirls on Calican. “You paid a mechanic to be your back-up? Are you insane?”

He shrugs. “(Y/N) has a mean right hook.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Mando huffs. He looks over at you and you can almost feel him glaring through the visor. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m broke,” you scoff. “Same thing. Oh, hey, do you need repairs on that hunk of junk you pilot? I’ll be more thorough than that lady at the hangar.”

He hesitates. “We’ll see.”

You grin. That’s not a no.

*

“You’re a prick, did I mention that?” you hiss over your shoulder.

Calican shoves the blaster into your side. “Shut up and keep walking.”

The Mandalorian stands on the other side of the hangar, waiting for Calican to make his move. Seriously, this day could not be going any worse. After killing Shand, Toro Calican, certified dumbass, decided that kidnapping you and the Mandalorian’s—pet? Child?—passenger was the best way to go. Whatever the little weird thing that’s in your arms is, it’s pretty cute, and you’d rather he shoot you than the baby holding tightly onto your shirt. In fact, he probably will, because the kid is his ticket into the Guild—you’re just dead weight.

“Looks like I’m calling the shots now. Huh, partner?” Calican asks the Mando. “Drop your blaster and raise ‘em.”

The Mandalorian puts his hands behind his head. Next to you, Calican pushes Peli forward and instructs her to cuff him. With a huff, she moves behind the Mandalorian with the intent to follow orders.

“You’re a Guild traitor, Mando,” Calican begins. You consider sighing. This sounds like the start of a villain monologue. “And I’m willing to bet that this here is the target you helped escape. Fennec was right. Bringing you in won’t just make me a member of the Guild, it’ll make me legendary.”

In a burst of light, the Mandalorian sets off a flash grenade.

You yelp and tuck the little thing into your arms before tucking yourself over into a roll down the ramp of the ship. You fall into the sand just in front of the Mandalorian, who’s moved to fire a shot at Calican, sending him flying off the other side, smouldering.

Breathing heavily, you sit up, the child still in your arms.

“Are you okay? Is the child?”

You look up. The Mandalorian has his gloved hand held out, offering to help you up. Hesitantly, you take it and pull yourself off the ground.

“We’re both okay—I think,” you say hesitantly, holding the baby out to him. “Is he—?”

“Dead,” the Mando confirms, taking the child from you.

You frown. “Good riddance. Thank you,” you tell him hesitantly, though your tone is genuine.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

He distracts himself by checking on the child, who coos up at him contentedly. You smile a little at the interaction, but put yourself back into focus.

“It’s not nothing,” you say firmly. “I owe you a life debt.”

He freezes. “What?”

“Where I come from, if someone saves your life, you owe it to them. Until I can save your life, I owe you,” you explain.

“That’s—you don’t need to do that,” he says quickly.

You cross your arms. “It’s like your Way. It’s my culture, my honour on the line. You’re stuck with me, Mando.”

“What? No. Can’t you...pay me, or something?”

“I’m broke, remember?”

“You saved the child’s life, doesn’t that count?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “I rolled with him. You did the work, so, no, it doesn’t count, even though he’s your…” You hesitate, remembering the word. “...foundling.”

“You know, you’re kind of getting the better end of the deal here,” Peli pipes up, directing the thought at the Mandalorian. “A free mechanic, babysitter, and an extra blaster? That’s a bargain.”

“Uh...pre-warning, I don’t know much about child care,” you warn immediately.

He snorts. “Neither do I.” After a moment, he sighs deeply. “Fine. But we’re going to work on those blaster skills before you become a liability.”

“Fair enough.”

*

Sticking with the Mandalorian is probably the worst decision of your life.

Almost immediately after Tatooine, in need of more funds, he drags you into trouble with another group of bounty hunters and the New Republic, of all groups.

“Who is this?” someone asks, her voice sing-song as she enters the Mandalorian’s ship.

You don’t bother turning around, continuing your repairs on a hull panel. “The mechanic. Don’t touch anything.”

“You have a personal mechanic?”

A few people enter the ship, making you finally turn around. The first speaker is a Twi’lek woman and the second a Human, who squints disdainfully. From behind him, Mando pushes past their little crew—including a protocol droid and a massive Devaronian—to approach you, deciding to stand next to you rather than them, which brings you immense pleasure for some reason.

“No. (Y/N) owes me a life debt and, apparently, credits don’t cut it,” he explains shortly, sounding frustrated and exhausted.

You nudge him companionably—it’s an argument you’ve had a few times, the paying of your debt. He doesn’t want to be free of you, per se, but he doesn’t want you to be in his debt. Having that kind of power or hold over you makes him uncomfortable, you can tell, as every time it comes up he gets twitchy.

“Kinky,” the Twi’lek snickers.

You grimace. That would explain why Mando sounds like he wants to die. “Fun group. What’s the job?”

“One of theirs got caught. We’re getting him out,” he says. “And we’re using our ship.”

Our ship. Maybe it’s a slip of the tongue or maybe he’s making it clear that you’re with him, but either way, it brings a smirk to your face. The Twi’lek looks disgusted.

“Well, at least my hard work won’t be going to waste,” you huff.

“Mando,” the Twi’lek interrupts, “you haven’t introduced us.”

You can feel him rolling his eyes. “(Y/N), meet Mayfeld, Burg, Xi’an. Mayfeld is running point, the droid is flying, and the target is a New Republic transport ship.”

“Ugh. You guys better be good; I’m not getting arrested.”

“Mayfeld’s former Imperial,” Mando says before any of them can answer.

You scoff. “A stormtrooper? My shitty blaster skills would be better than his.”

“I wasn’t a stormtrooper,” Mayfeld spits, annoyed enough that he must’ve said it once already. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

All but the droid stay, scattered around the hull. Mando follows soon after the jump to hyperspace, having hovered over the droid while it set their course. He stops Burg from getting into the weapons cache right after he hops down the ladder and the two look like they want to kill each other.

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian,” the Devaronian grunts.

Mayfeld huffs. “Well, apparently, they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy. So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

They all laugh at that—Xi’an with a particularly nasal one, which is irritating beyond belief. You frown deeply, but try not to show how pissed their laughter makes you. That sort of shit isn’t to be made fun of; a dying race. It’s all too familiar these days, what with the death of Alderaan and the crater on Scarif.

When you come back into focus, Xi’an is talking in low tones.

“See, I know who you really are,” she says to the Mando.

You roll your eyes. Unlikely.

(Something in your brain goes: I do, which is stupid. You don’t know who he is, under that helmet, sure, but you’ve seen a lot of him through his actions. He’s reckless, terrifying, and a badass, but he’s also patient and...kind, in his own way. The way he treats the child is like nothing you’ve seen in another bounty hunter. It’s gentle, caring. The kid has really grown on him, you think. And the way he treats you is just straight up polite, even though you’re practically his servant in terms of a life debt. Still, he treats you like a person and doesn’t ask you to do unreasonable favours just because he saved your life. He doesn’t hold it over your head.)

And then they start goading him about the helmet.

Burg actually goes for it, which Mando beats him back for. You jump forward, but just as you do, the door to the sleeping cot flies open, revealing the child.

Instead, you rush to the child, pulling him into your arms.

“What is that?” Mayfeld asks, approaching.

“Back off,” you hiss.

He looks between you and Mando. “Wait, did you two make that?” When you scoff, he frowns. “What is it, like a pet or somethin’?”

“Yeah. Something like that,” Mando says quickly.

Xi’an frowns. “Didn’t take you for the type. Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

You snort. Soft. That isn’t a word you’d use to describe him, ever. You haven’t seen very much action since Tatooine, but you saw enough there.

Mayfeld reaches for the child and, without hesitation, you lift your blaster. The way he’s looking at the little guy makes you uneasy.

“Fuck off,” you warn instantly.

“Aw, c’mon, I just wanna hold him,” he teases.

Over the comms, the droid’s voice echoes. “Dropping out of hyperspace. Now.”

The entire ship shudders and shakes, sending everyone flying off their feet. You happen to ram into beskar, your face slamming into the metal, which makes you yelp. The baby wails in your arms as gravity makes to tug you away again. Before it can, Mando grabs your arms and holds you in place against him until the ship is steady once more.

“You okay?” he asks, helping you to your feet—again, you think miserably.

“Ugh, no,” you groan, putting a hand on the left side of your face. “That’s gonna bruise.”

Mando takes the child from you. “Sorry. We’ll deal with it after.”

You wave him off. “I’ve had worse. You worry about the job, I’ll watch the kid,” you say, taking the child back. You can’t help but smile when he coos happily.

“Right,” Mando mutters. For a moment, he watches you both, considering.

“Mando!” calls Mayfeld. “Let’s go!”

Before he goes, he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this.” You nod, which seems to appease him, and watch him leave.

Petting the child’s floppy ears, you wonder if he meant that to be as comforting as it was.

*

I should’ve known, Din thinks when Qin walks out of that cell.

I definitely should’ve known, he decides, returning to the Razor Crest to find a sparking droid corpse and a shaking child in your arms.

He tosses the cuffed Twi’lek to the side and rushes to yours, stepping over Zero’s limp form. You look relatively unfazed, for someone who’s just ripped a droid’s head off with their bare hands, but the child is rather distressed. The kid squeaks at the sight of Din and, much to his surprise, lifts your hand to show him.

It’s bleeding.

“What did you do?” Din questions, crossing the hull for his medical kit.

“I...may have tried to punch the droid,” you admit hesitantly. “It didn’t work.”

He scoffs, returning to kneel in front of you with bacta patches in his hands. “No karking shit.”

Your face falls as he reaches for your hand, pulling it toward him so he can patch it up. “It was gonna hurt the kid.”

“You did good,” he murmurs. “Stupid, but good.”

It never occurred to him that you might save the child again. You’re here out of necessity, after all, because you owe him, because your honour depends on paying that debt. The child is just another being in the vicinity, but you still saved him. Again. You’re either very stupid or very kind and he can’t decide which one is more concerning.

“Maybe you should teach me a bit of hand to hand, too,” you suggest warmly, wincing at the bacta’s sting.

Din makes a noise that’s sort of a laugh. “I’ll add it to the list.”

He moves to put bacta on the bruise his beskar gave you—He feels ridiculously guilty for that; here you are, paying off a life debt to him, and he still manages to hurt you—but with a hand, you stop him.

“Don’t waste it,” you say immediately. “I’ve had worse bruises, seriously.”

He frowns. “It’s not a waste.” Before you can protest, he puts the patch on top of the bruise.

You huff. “You’re a worrier, aren’t you, Mando?”

“Apparently,” he replies dryly. He hadn’t realised it, either.

“Will you stop flirting and get us out of here!?” Qin shouts from the other side of the hull. “The New Republic will be on our asses!”

You roll your eyes. “I hate to say it, but he has a point. Where are the others?”

“Dealt with,” he says simply. “It was a double-cross.”

“Well, I figured,” you shoot back with a knowing look. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The drop is easy enough, especially since Din knows that New Republic signal is beeping steadily from Qin’s pocket. He escapes quickly, dipping back into the Razor Crest, where you wait at the top of the ramp, the child hanging onto your boot.

“Let’s go,” he declares, the ramp shutting behind him as he enters.

“Already?” you question with a raised eyebrow. “There are a few repairs I could make out of hyperspace that might be useful.”

He waves you toward the cockpit. “Later. We need to leave.”

“Oookay.” You frown but do as he says, plucking the child from off your foot. “C’mon, little guy,” you mutter to him.

Din waves away all your questions as he starts the take-off. Finally, when the Razor Crest is a safe distance away from the space station and X-Wings appear out of hyperspace, he glances back at you.

“Holy shit!” you cry as they open fire. You look back at him with a slack jaw, which makes him smile underneath the helmet. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

He shrugs half-heartedly, but it’s enough of an answer.

“You’re a maniac, Mando,” you laugh, watching the scene through the transparisteel.

Din thinks over it, staring at you for a long moment. There’s light in your eyes—maybe it’s the reflection of the explosion, but it’s captivating.

“Din,” he says.

You look over. “Hm?”

He clears his throat, trying to shove aside nerves. “My name. It’s Din.”

“Oh. Oh,” you repeat, eyes wide. Then, you smile, more genuine than he’s ever seen from you, he thinks. “You’re crazy, Din. You know that, right?”

He laughs—and that’s the first time you’ve heard a proper one from him. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

*

When Din drops a pair of gloves in front of you, you laugh.

“You’re telling me the gloves are out of convenience?” you ask him disbelievingly.

“The more skin you cover, the less likely you are to get cut up by a vibroblade,” he replies dryly. “Put them on.”

You raise your hands in surrender and take them, slipping them over your fingers. “Surprisingly comfy.”

It occurs to you that this is...sort of a big deal. You’ve kept your hands bare for as long as you can remember, mostly because you’re a romantic and finding your Soulmate has been at the forefront of your mind for a long time. But now, you think, it’s not such a big deal. You have a debt to pay and, besides that, you’re pretty happy with how things are now.

Life isn’t exactly nice with Din and the kid, so to say, but you’re content. You love the child and he adores you. The Razor Crest feels more like home than any planet ever has. And Din is...well, he’s something. Being around him is mildly addicting and whenever he’s gone, something feels incomplete.

“Better?” you ask, lifting your gloved hands.

“Much,” he says. Then, he holds out his own hand. “C’mon, up.”

You take the hand without thought, but before you know it, he’s swinging you around and shoving you to the ground.

“Ow!” you cry. “What the hell, Din?”

He huffs. “Lesson 1: Never take anything for granted.”

“Rude.” You hit his arm meaningfully, but he just rolls his eyes; just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean you can’t tell it’s happening.

“You’ll thank me someday.”

“But not today.”

“Nope. Today, you’re gonna hate my guts.”

*

He’s dying.

It feels unreal, what with everything you’ve watched him survive so far. A newbie bounty hunter, a group of pissed off bounty hunters, lots of bounty hunters, and the New Republic but a group of stormtroopers is what gets him?

Moff Gideon is what really gets him, though. The bastard that helped destroy his people is going to destroy Din Djarin. Hearing him speak Din’s name makes you nauseous, furious, even. He gave you that name in confidence, trusted it to you, the only one of his handful of friends to even use it, and Gideon decides to declare it to Nevaroo in its entirety. It makes your blood boil, enough that you get out of the initial firefight mostly unscathed.

But Din doesn’t. And now he’s dying in your arms and you feel like you failed.

“Go with them,” he tells you, all croaky and half-assed.

“No. No, I’m not leaving you here,” you declare, carefully leaning him against the rubble.

Flames flicker all around the room and the child is crying. It’s not loud or consistent, but it’s enough to break your heart.

“You have to go,” Din says again. “You’ll die.”

You laugh ruefully. “That’s kind of the point. A life debt means I save your life or I die trying.”

A pause.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he hisses through the pain.

“Afraid not, dumbass. You’re stuck with me, remember?”

He grasps your arm, his hands still gloved. If you’re going to die here, maybe you should ask him to take off the gloves. A part of you has wondered…

“C’mon, tell me it’s transferable—some ‘dying wish’ shit like that.”

You nod, though the action sinks uncomfortably into your chest. Leaving him here...that doesn’t sit well with you. But if he asks, then you’ll do it. “Yeah, you name it, but it’d better be a big one, something equivalent.”

The breath he lets out is one of relief. “Take care of the kid. Go find his people and return him to them. Protect him.”

“With my dying breath,” you swear, the words holding an air of ceremony.

Din grasps your arm tighter and pulls you down, your forehead meeting his helmet. You’re not sure what it means, but it must mean something because he mutters words in his own language, which you’ve never heard him do before.

“Ret’urcye mhi.”

May we meet again.

Din does what little he can in saying goodbye to you, as deeply as that cuts. You’ve grown on him, a little too much maybe, and it kills him to think that you’ll be without him now. You still can’t hit a headshot, he realises, suddenly worried for how you’ll fare.

And so he gives you what he can: a Keldabe kiss and a goodbye, instead of the action he wants to take. He wants to take off his gloves and see if he can figure out the colour of your eyes. On the other hand, though, he doesn’t want to leave you with that, of all things, to leave you seeing the red of his blood and the blue-tinged orange of the flames before any other colours.

You take the child in your arms and, with one last glance at Din, leave the room for the covert’s tunnels underground.

The child whimpers up at you.

You look down, sniffling, and pet his ears gently. “I know, little one. I’m so sorry.” You place a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Cara appears, tugging on your wrist. “C’mon,” she says gently. “We need to get out of here.”

It occurs to you, as the three of you and Greef move on, that Cara might help you with the child. For Din, obviously. She’s a good person and, frankly, she and Din seem pretty friendly. The second she saw you, she’d offered her bare hand and bemoaned the fact that her vision was still black and white, much to your amusement. It was all in good fun, but Din had looked a little uncomfortable, for reasons you didn’t know.

“(Y/N),” Cara says quietly, calling your attention back.

You shake yourself from your thoughts. “Sorry.”

She smiles sadly. “It’s okay. Just keep up.”

The small group turns a few corners before footsteps sound from behind. You immediately place the child in the bag hanging from Cara’s shoulder and draw your blaster, watching her and Greef do the same.

From the distant hall, two figures approach: IG-11 and—

“Din!” you half-cry, half-breathe out. Holstering your blaster, you meet them halfway to take more of Din’s weight from IG. “How—?”

“No living thing can see me without my helmet. IG isn’t alive,” Din says dryly.

You laugh, a partly manic sound. “Thank kark. You’re not getting out of this that easy.”

The noise he makes is both amused and resigned. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Where’s the—?”

“He’s with Cara,” you say, finishing the thought before even he can, in his groggy state.

It’s safe to say that when the Armourer gives him his sigil, Din almost considers correcting the Clan of two to a Clan of three. He doesn’t, reminding himself that you’re here because of a debt and nothing else, but the thought is there.

*

The months after Nevarro are more peaceful than the first week of your time with Din. 

You finally get to pull a proper sleeping space together for yourself. Well, it’s a hammock in the hull, but it’s better than the seats in the cockpit. The child gets his own hammock, too, though it’s in the cot space with Din. He loves it, so much so that he squeals when he sees it. That’s your proudest moment, for sure.

Most days, you tend to forget that you still owe a life debt. To be honest, it just feels like the three of you are normal. Din takes bounties, you take short mechanic jobs on different planets, and the two of you trade off on child-duty. It’s pretty regular, more than what your life used to be, anyway.

Din is still training you in hand-to-hand and blasters, of course. You’re getting better with the latter, but the first is difficult. On the way to Tatooine, where there’s supposedly another Mandalorian, he decides to have another training session.

“Fists higher, do it again.”

Huffing, you wipe your wrist across your sweaty forehead. It’s easy enough to obey the order—the first part, anyway. Getting into his guard is difficult, though.

One hit, two blocks—there. You slip under his guard and make an abrupt drop to the ground, sweeping his legs out under him with a fierce movement. He goes down in a tumble of beskar, joining you on the floor. As soon as he’s down, you flip over and straddle his hips, an arm over his neck in false threat.

He barks out a laugh. “Much better.”

“I’m not entirely hopeless!” you declare joyfully before bursting into snickers.

Leaning down, you thunk your forehead against his helmet. The gesture is fond, you’ve learned, something shared between close companions—or at least you think. Din told you that it’s called a mirshmure’cya in Mando’a, that it doesn’t have an equivalent word in Basic.

(Which is technically true. Literally, it means brain-kiss, but the outsider term for it is Keldabe kiss. It can be used for close companions—vode in arms, family—but it’s also used for romantic partners, so he’s mildly horrified at the idea of explaining its cultural significance to you and having to face his feelings for someone that may or may not be his Soulmate. He hasn’t gotten up the courage to ask if he can check. Or try to do it discreetly.)

A distant beeping starts up, coming from the cockpit. It’s the approach warning, which means the training session is over.

“I’ll get the kid,” you say, climbing off Din and offering a hand.

He takes it without hesitation, dragging himself up and making a beeline for the cockpit.

Tatooine is about what you remember. That is, it’s dry, sandy, and the worst planet you’ve ever been on. Stepping out of the ship and into the hangar makes you smile, though, at the not-so-distant memory of Din saving your life. It hasn’t been that long, but it feels like it’s been years.

“Oh, hey!” says Peli, after greeting the child—which is fair, he’s adorable. “You’re still with him! Haven’t repaid that debt yet, huh?”

Your face falls. “Uh, no, not really.”

On the way to Mos Pelgo, your thoughts linger on the life debt. One of these days, you’re going to save Din’s life—then where will you be? Will he want you to leave? What will you do if you have to leave? Your old life was nowhere near as interesting as this, nor did you have anyone close to what Din and the child are to you.

The dreary grey slopes of sand only make it easier to think of the worst possible outcomes. Now you remember why you hated Tatooine so much.

You don’t even realise the speeder is approaching the small town until Din taps your arm, which is wrapped around his waist. Jumping at the touch, you loosen your grip sheepishly and glance at the child, who looks like he’s enjoying himself immensely.

After the speeder comes to a stop, you take the kid while Din enters the cantina.

When you enter yourself, you find that he’s about to shoot someone, while the Weequay behind the bar looks rather distressed.

“Perfect timing, as always,” Din remarks without a glance.

You raise your free hand. “You’re the bad luck charm, I’m just here for the ride,” you retort teasingly.

“You brought a kid to a gunfight?” his opponent asks, raising an eyebrow.

Finally, you glance over at him and see why Din looks ready to kill him. He’s in Mandalorian armour but his helmet is off—clearly, he’s not Mandalorian. “You’re wearing beskar and you’re not a Mandalorian, buddy. I think you’re in more trouble than the kid is.”

“He is,” Din gets out, a twinge of viciousness in his voice.

Before they can even reach for their blasters, though, the ground starts to shake.

You grab onto the doorway for support, eyes wide as you grip the child. Din and the Mandalorian poser move toward the door, joining you and staring out at the street outside.

The entire planet feels like it rumbles and chaos reigns outside.

Something is moving the sand—coming toward the town.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper as it goes by, shifting the sand like it’s an ocean rather than earth. It flies out of the ground, sharp teeth the only thing you see as it consumes a bantha whole.

When it’s gone, the poser huffs. “Maybe we can work something out.” He turns to you, offering a hand, which is covered by fingerless gloves. “Cobb Vanth. I’m the Marshal here.”

You take it hesitantly, glad that things are still black and white when you make contact. “(Y/N).”

He notices your hesitation and chuckles. “The Weequay in there is Sala, my Soulmate. I’ll see if they can’t whip up something for the kid; I’m sure he’s starving.”

“Very,” you say, just before he goes to leave.

When it’s just you and Din, you look over at your companion. “Krayt dragon, huh?”

“Yep,” he sighs, already sounding tired.

You laugh. “I know I said I could bring you to one when we met, but I was totally kidding.”

He looks over at you and you can feel the low-level glare behind the visor, but it only makes you snicker. “I hate you.”

“You’re so full of shit,” you retort immediately.

*

You finally get to repay your debt.

It’s not what you’re thinking about when you shove Din out of the way of the krayt’s projectile venom, but it’s repaid nonetheless.

Din doesn’t think of it immediately, either, as he’s rather more concerned with the fact that you’re sent flying across the desert into a pile of debris and sharp rocks.

“(Y/N)!”

Before he can run to you, Cobb grabs his arm. “The dragon!”

To be honest, killing the dragon feels like a bonus when he pulls himself together and figures out a plan. When the great beast explodes, the Tuskens and the villagers cheer, but Din races back to the place he saw you last. He pushes aside the remains of one of those massive weapons they built to find you, laying on the ground. For a moment, panic clutches his heart, but then you groan.

“Am I dead?” you ask.

Din lets out a breath, hardly managing it, as he kneels next to you. “Dumbass.”

“Because it feels like I’m dead.”

“Dumbass,” he repeats, ripping your shirt away to find a deep cut in your side, just above your hip. “Of all the ways to pay your debt—”

You sit up, wincing. “Oh,” you say, as if you hadn’t realised it, “I guess I did that, too.”

Din’s heart is still beating a million klicks a second at how close you were to being dead, but for a second, it flips, realising that you hadn’t saved him just to pay the debt. And then, as he’s helping you off the ground and bringing you toward the others, who have bacta patches ready, his heart sinks.

Your debt is paid. You don’t have any reason to stay with him and the kid. As soon as you get back to the city, he’s going to have to watch you leave.

Shit. He didn’t think this through.

Meanwhile, you’re on the same train of thought. Does he really think you saved him for the debt? Does he want you gone that bad? It makes sense. You’re a pain in the ass, with all the training you need. But...well, you thought he might’ve—

“I’ve changed my mind,” you declare.

Din, terrified, attempts to sound neutral. “About?”

“The worst job we’ve ever taken. This is definitely it,” you huff as he helps you down onto a smoother boulder, taking patches from a Tusken.

He goes to use them, but you raise a hand.

“If you even think about getting near my wound with those nasty gloves, I’m going to skin you,” you threaten.

Frankly, Din is too shaken to even laugh. The silence lays there, stilted, as he removes his gloves and sits somewhat behind you, on another close stone. You’ve taken yours off, too, seeing as one is ripped all the way through.

He’s careful with the bacta patch and his bare hands, making sure not to touch your skin.

Now, of all moments, would be the worst time to find out that you really don’t have a reason to stay.

While he works, he thinks, briefly, that he should say something. “(Y/N),” he starts to say. “I—”

But that happens to be the moment he’s putting the bacta patch on. You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, wincing. Your hand flies out, reaching for something to ground you. Of course, because something out there has it out for you, you grab his hand, forgetting that his gloves are, for once in his life, not there.

You realise, ridiculously, that his hand is warm.

And then the world around you explodes into colour.

The faded yellow of the surrounding desert is overwhelming with how it burns into your eyes alongside the brilliant blue of the sky. The surrounding Tuskens are in browns and greys, simple things, but so, so beautiful to your new sight. You breathe out, a shaky action.

Behind you, Din comes to see the same, but his gaze is stuck on the back of your head—the (h/c) of your hair and how the light catches in it, despite it being a complete mess.

You barely have the breath to gasp, but you do, whirling around to face him.

His beskar is beyond what you’d pictured: a shining, sparkling silver that could stand out on a star. No wonder rooms fall silent at the sight of him.

Din has the same thought about your eyes. On death’s door, all he’d wanted was to know what colour they are and now he knows, but it feels so useless now. He doesn’t even know what to call them. Sure, (e/c) would work, however weakly. You are...something else. You always have been, but now it’s like he can see it, the beauty of who you are so plainly painted into your features.

Din doesn’t even have the time to be afraid of your reaction before the words are slipping out. “I don’t want you to go.”

You just stare at him for a long moment, words processing.

It...kind of freaks him out.

He jumps when you fling yourself at him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in the tightest hug he’s ever gotten. Immediately, he responds, clutching the back of your shirt like it’ll save his life.

“Thank the Force,” you breathe out, just beside where his ear is under the helmet. “I don’t wanna leave.”

Din lets out a breath of relief and tugs you closer so you’re practically sitting on his lap. It can’t be comfortable, but you don’t seem to mind. When you do finally pull away, it’s to press your forehead against his helmet. It sends a swell of affection through him again, your constant Keldabe kisses. He taught you something important to his culture, to him, and here you are, using it without thought.

“Is it too late to tell you that this is the Mandalorian equivalent of a kiss?” he murmurs, more than a little embarrassed.

You laugh softly, arms reaching to rest around his neck. “And I thought you were so cool.”

“I just blew up a krayt dragon,” he argues.

“Oh, you’re plenty badass, Din,” you tease back, “just...not smooth.”

He huffs. “I’m gonna kick your ass next training session.”

A grin comes over your face and, for a second, he can’t comprehend why that would make you smile—until he realises that he just promised a next time. You’d genuinely believed he wanted you gone and Din thought you wanted to leave, but neither of you were right. 

A whine from below catches both your attention.

The child reaches up from the ground, making grabby hands.

You laugh, a noise Din echoes quietly, and pluck him from the ground, holding him in your careful hands. “Hey, buddy. Feeling left out?”

He squeaks a confirmation, his little hands—green hands, you realise, deeply amused—reaching for Din’s helmet. Once he has a comfortable hand, he bashes his head against the helmet.

Din yelps, not out of pain, but concern, grabbing for the kid, who wobbles dizzily.

“Oh, shit—” Din says.

“Woah, woah,” you get out between wheezing laughs. “Don’t do that! His head is much harder than yours.”

The kid makes a weak huff and curls against Din’s chest stubbornly.

“I think that was an attempted kiss,” you suggest to Din.

Underneath his helmet, he grins. Petting the child’s head with a gentle finger, he looks back up at you. “It was cute.”

“Very,” you agree.

Without prompting, Din reaches for your hand again, a little hesitant. You take his gladly, running your thumb across his knuckles, which makes him shiver.

“Clan of three,” he whispers.

You lift your gaze. “Hm?”

“The Armourer, she said, ‘Clan of two’ when she gave me my sigil,” he explains. “I wanted to correct her then.”

The smile on your face is beyond words. “Clan of three has a ring to it. You’re stuck with me for good now, Din Djarin.”

He snorts and raises your hand to his helmet, touching it briefly to the metal in lieu of kissing it.

Tatooine might be the worst place in the universe, Din thinks that it doesn’t matter so much where he is. Sitting here, with you and the kid, he thinks that this might be home.

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

[ileaveclawmarks]

different anon here but I just want to say I genuinely appreciate how unapologetic and confident you are about ur body hair especially as someone who is attracted to women with body hair and as someone who prefers to not shave but feels pressured to due to societal norms and what not idk I guess I'm just wondering how you like got over/ stopped caring about what other people think cause that's what's difficult for me :/

Thats literally everything i want to hear. i love doing this cuz not only is the insane excess body hairy a huge automatic dyke magnet that i dont even have to put any work into, but also because for every 10 people who look at me with revulsion theres always 1 person who thinks … maybe i can also have the confidence to do that. Thats my revolution. okay this ones gonna be long so hit that read more

So. when i was a novice non-shaver going out in public with even just a sliver of hairy leg showing literally gripped me in fear, like panic stricken burning fear. It was insane and pathetic and ridiculous how disabling this terror was over such a stupid arbitrary thing. I used 2 have repetitive nightmares about it, just the sickest dread terror imaginable. LMFAO.

If ur gonna ask how to get over that fear the straight answer is u cant, not fully. This is the product of some serious conditioning and socialization that has been at work since u were born. like it doesnt just go away. Even i havent gotten over it, like sometimes i seriously struggle with it. U can definitely get used to it though. I prefer to not shave and feel that everyday terror over shaving. And ill tell u why, so u can approach it with the same reasoning.

first of all i hated the physical act of shaving, really fckin hated waxing, every hair removal method is either painful, time consuming or expensive. And its worthless anyways because ur stubble is back in by the next morning. Who benefits?? and what are the consequences? I am making my body unnatural, conformist, and alien to me through a tedious and painful process. why do i harm myself in this way? Why put my psyche thru this? why is my body wrong in its natural state? what happens if i DONT shave?

and this is the crux of the matter: NOTHING HAPPENS. Other than the fact that it creates this fear, there is NO consequence to not shaving. In general no one will care and no one will treat you any different. Nothing will change in your daily life. you may likely get stares or rude comments from strangers on occasion but at the end of the day those things dont really matter. They seriously dont matter at all. Let go of the need to be judged correctly by all strangers. These people are fleeting milliseconds of your life. Remember this every time u go out.

and u must go out ... in this case exposure therapy really does work. Theres literally nothing else 2 do but go out unshaved. Just force urself over and over. Just do it. Do it until u dont even realize anymore. The day will come! U wont even notice it until ur looking at the women around u in public and u find it strange to see them hairless. On this day u will revel in ur shavelessness. Thank god u dont look like the prepubescent pedophilic fantasy that the mans world wants u to look like. U will view it with revulsion and horror, the idea of making urself into a little hairless girl to emulate their sick pornography and obsession with fucking literal minors. Never again!!!! This is where the revolution starts!!!

and i will tell u now. Once u finally grow out ur leg hair and theres no stubble or itchiness left it is going to feel so nice. Stroke it nd shit, for real. This is important. Look at it with luv. If you cant do that, look at it with neutrality. GET USED 2 ITS PRESENCE ... this is ur one and only body.

Now, if u can, find urself a group of women or lesbians who also dont shave. Look for urself in them and feel comforted by the fact that u wont b judged here. Get ur mind used to the NORMALCY of body hair. If ur lucky u might have other lesbian or even just alternative friends who find your body hair sexy or are jealous of ur confidence in growing it out. HUGE EGO BOOST! Take it when u can find it. This one helped me a lot because i am a natural attention whore and narcissist.

And besides if ur anything like me in that u fucking hate males with a militant blood boiling violent rage, then u might also remind urself: the struggle you face over your body hair is ABSENT in all the men that you see around you. Absent. Never there and never will be. what gives them the right and not me? They live their lives so mindlessly free of any of this. Dont shave your legs cuz … fuck em, thats why!!! 🗣 Show those sick mfers. Dyke revolution by just walking down the street and being comfortable in ur own skin. Love the strange looks that u get in public. Fuck them!!!

So thats how i mostly stopped caring about being unshaven, kind of a mix of acknowledging how stupid it is to do so as well as a bit of exposure therapy, community, and good old dyke hatred and cynicism. Remember that every time you go out you are showing other women that this is a possibility for them too. I hope this little guide gave u some inspiration for the future. I appreciate how hard it is to stop shaving but honestly once u do stop its even harder to start doing it again. Good luck and i wish u all the strength, drive, confidence and attitude u r going 2 need. And if u ever want to talk more about it im always right here at ileaveclawmarks on tumblr.com ... 🤍🤍🤍

[tsukifanbase]

Obey Me! Brothers Visit MC During Autumn: Lucifer, Mammon, and Belphie

Authors Note: i'm thinking I might make this a series, like at the beginning of every season just something similar to this 👀 sorry I haven't written much lately! school's taking up pretty much all my time nowadays-- anywhosie, enjoy! [ also s p o i l e r s] (oh btw this is gonna take place after mc leaves devildom for the summer, before they come back to devildom) lmk if yall want pt 2 with the other characters

Warnings: fluff, bruh absolute just fluff everywhere like so much, mb a lil bit of angst but that's what all my writing is like so hehe

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

Lucifer

- i feel like lucifer would’ve visited you in the human realm before

- like probably sometime over the summer, but he hadn’t seen you in a while and he was starting to miss his favorite human :(

- not like he’d ever admit to that

- i don’t think luci would really be the type to wait until you summoned him for something, if he wants to make sure you’re okay, he’s gonna come see you lmao

- anyways

- lucifer had been staring out the window for quite a while- he had been doing paperwork, but somehow even when you were in a different realm, you managed to disrupt him

- he chuckled to himself at that thought, then sighed

- you had been rather difficult to focus around, always getting yourself into trouble

- luci couldn’t catch a break when you went to RAD

- he missed you

- a lot

- lucifer glanced back at his desk, where he had been working just moments before

- his eyes landed on an unsigned piece of paper that had your name on it

- you could come back home if he got you to sign it

- in truth, lucifer hadn’t really thought about finding a way to get you back to devildom. he certainly missed you, but the idea that he could actually arrange your return just hadn’t hit him yet

- until three days prior, when the sheet with your name on it appeared on his desk

- lucifer had a sneaking suspicion who put it there

- it was diavolo let’s be real

- the real mystery was why lucifer hadn’t gone to bring you the permission slip already

- he had waited- it had been three days, and he couldn’t make up his mind if he wanted to go give it to you

- lucifer didn’t want to put you in the position of having to choose between your life in the human realm or your life in devildom

- but he missed you

- and so, luci checked his watch to make sure it wasn’t three in the morning, then grabbed the permission slip before making his way outside 

- it would be okay to be selfish, just this once, right?

- lucifer arrived at your home at four in the afternoon, you weren’t there

- so he found a way to open the door, bruv you hid the key under the doormat he didn’t really have a hard time lmao 

- you walked into your bedroom at nearly quarter past four and immediately flopped onto your bed

- you didn’t even notice that lucifer was watching from your desk in the corner of your room

- he walked over to you and stared at you

- bro he literally didn’t say anything, he just waited ahaha thats not creepy

- lucifer crossed his arms over his chest and you finally looked up 

- your eyes locked and you quietly asked, “luci?”

- lucifer narrowed his gaze at you and answered you with an, “mhm?”

- and then you freaked out, because honestly you half thought you were hallucinating or something, you jumped up to give lucifer a hug

- don’t get me wrong here, i have the intense feeling that lucifer doesn’t like hugs, but i also have the intense feeling that you and the occasional brother are the exception to that rule

- so

- when you clasped your arms around him, luci barely hesitated in returning the gesture

- he pulled you close, like he never wanted to let go again

- you eventually pulled back to ask why he had come to visit you

- it wasn’t like he didn’t visit often, just usually he had a reason to, even if it was just because he wanted to check up on you

- oh and all that nerve luci had about being selfish for once in his lifetime, yeah that was gone XD

- so your question kinda caught him off guard, like it just seemed like he forgot because for a hot sec he was just staring at you like, ‘uh huh im sorry what was that?’

- when he didn’t answer, you took the lead

- “do you wanna go to the fall festival with me?”, you asked, a bright grin spreading across your face

- and obviously luci knew what a fall festival was, he just didn’t really see your request coming

- but i mean he nodded so lmao

- pretty soon y’all were walking down the street, stopping at random carts at the festival to look at autumn themed stuff

- luci didn’t have human money, so every time he showed a vague interest in something and you offered to buy it for him, he would start squabbling about not wanting you to spend your money and blah blah

- you’d wait until he started walking away from the cart and then buy it for him anyways ;)

- somehow along the way, lucifer suggested you guys hold hands to stay together in the crowd uh huh yeah right lmao

- it was nearing the end of the festival when you remembered there was a park down the street, so you turned to luci and asked, “mind if i show you something?”

- he agreed and you guys started walking down the street, and lemme say the park kinda blew lucifer’s mind

- he was aware that leaves on trees changed colors depending on the season, but he wasn’t expecting how beautiful they were 

- yellows, and oranges, some red, here and there

- and then he turned to look at you

- right at home, where you belonged

- wearing a shirt luci was pretty sure you stole from him, sipping warm apple cider

- the most beautiful thing in that entire park was you, he was sure of it

- lucifer felt the permission slip crinkle in his pocket, and he made up his mind about showing it to you

- he wasn’t going to

- “lucifer, are you okay?”, you sounded concerned, and you brought the hand that had been holding his own to brush a piece of his hair out of his face

- lucifer smiled at you, really smiled, and then replied, “yes, my dear, i’m quite all right”

Mammon

- ok so u guys remember when about two minutes ago i said lucifer wasn’t the type to wait until you summoned him

-well let’s give mammon some credit where it’s due

- he triedd to wait until you summoned him

- bb is many things but he is not patient XD

- ok lets get into it

- mammon was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling

- he wasn’t really thinking about anything?? but he had been sitting there for like an hour lmao

- asmo and satan were standing in the doorway like, ‘is he okay? does he need a doctor?’

- since usually when people think of mammon they do not think, ah yes his normal activity of... doing nothing?

- then out of nowhere, mammon sat up and his brothers quickly fled the scene to avoid being caught lmao

- mammon got a big grin on his face, and he strut out of his room to go bother you

- he had gotten into the habit of going to find you whenever he was bored or lonely

- he arrived at your bedroom, and just before his fist hit the door to knock, he realized that you weren’t in there

- that you weren’t even in devildom

- mammon barely hesitated before spinning on his heel and heading to lucifer’s office

- he wasn’t even really conscious of what he was doing, but mammon knew why he was about to go ask to visit you

- he needed you, more than he ever truly realized

- when you arrived at your apartment that afternoon, you were greeted by your landlord in the lobby, he informed you that there was a strange man sitting outside of your apartment, who was insisting that he needed to see you

- you practically dropped the grocery bag you were holding, nodded to your landlord, thanked him, and then began sprinting towards your apartment

- mammon was sitting in front of your door, staring down at his hands, he didn’t even notice that you had walked up to him

- you immediately noticed something was off with him, so you dropped to your knees to bring him into a hug, “what’s wrong?”

- he smiled to himself as he wrapped his arms around you, “nuthin'”, now that you were with him

- after you both relished in being reunited, you hopped up and grinned at him, “you’ve got perfect timing!”

- you went to unlock your apartment door, and pointed at the grocery bag that you had abandoned on the floor- it was full of apples

- mammon stood and picked up the bag for you, “apples?”, he questioned, he wasn’t really familiar with human cuisine but it seemed a little bit strange to just buy a massive bag of apples

- “i’m gonna make desert!”, you opened the door and walked into your apartment, then closed the door behind mammon, “and you’re gonna help me”

- the smile you gave him made his heart melt

- he had missed you so much

- “pfffff, why would i do that?”, mammon’s cheeks were flushed red, he crossed his arms and looked away from you, trying to hide his embarrassment 

- you were grabbing something out of your cabinet, it looked like sugar, “because”, you smiled at him 

- “what kind of reason is that-”

- he helped you make the apple pie lmao

- mammon lifted a bite of the pie up to his face to look at it, “what even is this?” 

- he wasn’t asking in a mean way, he just genuinely didn’t know what he was looking at lol

- “just try it! i promise you’ll like it!”, you told him from the kitchen, you were putting away ingredients

- mammon huffed, and you gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse

- “if you try it, i’ll give you a present”, he immediately tried the dessert

- greedy boi

- mammon thought it was delicious, but he wasn’t about to tell you that, “i guess it’s alright, now you’re gonna gimme something?” 

- you nodded and walked over to where he was sitting, “hey, what’re ya doin’?”, you gave him a peck on the cheek

- mammon fell silent for a second, and then his face burst into flames as he watched you grin and return to putting things away

- and honestly that was the best gift you could’ve given him

Belphie

- ok so im sorry but belphie is definitely the type of demon to wait for you to summon him

- i don’t make the rules XD

- he is tired boy, and while he may love and care about you a lot, going to the human realm takes a lotttttttt of energy lmao

- like he has to walk allllllll the way to lucifer’s office and ugh just like no too much work

- so anyways lmao

- you hadn’t really planned on summoning bel at all

- you were lying in bed, a lazy morning like so many you had shared together

- this one was more beautiful than any you had ever experienced before

- the leaves were changing colors just outside your window, the sunlight of a late morning breaching your bedroom through the leaves, and hitting your face

- the weather had gotten colder recently, so you had added more blankets to your bed to accommodate

- or maybe you were trying to make up for the loss of your cuddle buddy

- either way, you were wrapped securely in blankets

- and everything seemed perfect

- except you were missing the best part of sleeping in, of staying in bed until the early afternoon

- you were missing your best friend

- so you decided to change that

- you barely had to think about how to summon him, one second, he wasn’t there, and the next, belphie was lying on top of you

- he was sleeping, as usual

- bel clutched you tight in his sleep, mumbling something about missing you under his breath

- he was dreaming about you

- because as little energy he had to go visit, that didn’t mean that belphie didn’t miss you

- in fact, nearly every day since you left devildom, bel had complained to beel about how cold his bed was

- bel had trouble sleeping for a while after you left, unbelievable, but true

- he had grown so accustomed to falling asleep every night to the sound of your breath, your scent, your warmth

- belphie opened his eyes mid afternoon, he realized why he had been sleeping so soundly when he glanced down to see who he was hugging

- your eyes were closed and he assumed you were asleep

- bel sighed blissfully and hugged you tighter, pressing a kiss to your head

- “i missed you”, he mumbled into your hair

- “i missed you too, bel”

[shoichee]

Hello! Can I perhaps ask for no. 28. “Make me” from your prompt list for my beloved Imayoshi? It's so nice seeing him here on your theme and avatar and that pERFECT url, it feels like I finally found my people.

HELLO HELLO, and YES I WAS SO SURPRISED THAT NO ONE TOOK THIS URL... considering that it was just an alternative spelling of shoichi and its a rlly short handle too mwehe // im sort of a particular person when it comes to how something looks, whether itd be outfits, drawings, coloring, and the UI of a blog, u name it.... i may have spent hours trying to have the perfect colors for this theme PLEASEEEE, but without further ado here is our man, our little shit, Imayoshi

@knb-kreations howdy! another new work posted here!

Imayoshi x Reader

28. “Make me”

Word Count: 2331

prompt list here

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Imayoshi doesn’t exactly know how he feels about you.

Scratch that, he does know. He’s quite amused at the shenanigans you pull on others around you, and a lot of times, you actually elicit a few dry laughs out of the guy. Other times though, he’d wish that you would just shut the fuck up, especially when all he hears amidst his studying was your loud “whispering” and “hushed” jokes. How you were always nearby no matter where he is was still a mystery that he casually ponders about from time to time. Perhaps your natural tendency to project your voice creates the illusion that you were near when you really weren’t?

No matter, such trivial thoughts can’t occupy his mind when college entrance exams loom closer. Then again, they weren’t particularly difficult; they were simply a hassle to secure near-perfect scores, especially when his chances of admittance rely critically on how well he does.

“That’s an awful drawing of a samurai,” Susa comments, snapping Imayoshi out of idle thought.

“Ho? Is it really terrible if you were able to tell what it is?” Imayoshi chuckles. “The point of a drawing is to convey the right idea or emotion. It seems that my drawing skills hit a bulls-eye with this sketch, no?” He playfully spins his pencil around, patiently waiting for his reply to goad him.

All Susa does in response is to roll his eyes before he turns his full attention back to his notes. He knows better than to try a comeback against Imayoshi, who can easily make it backfire against the person with a pleasant close-eyed smile. Imayoshi, seeing Susa’s nonverbal resign from engaging further banter, also looks down back to his book of scribbled notes and chicken-scratch drawings before he exhales an inaudible sigh.

School just doesn’t cut out to be mentally stimulating for him. It’s a little too repetitive and mundane for his taste.

“Argh!! Oh no!” your voice rang out, despite your poor attempt to be reasonably quiet. “I forgot applications for the Coca-Cola scholarship are due today!”

Coca-Cola… what?

Everyone looks up to warily eye you, and your few friends, who are currently rushing to pull you down and slap their hands over your mouth to mute you, were panicking at the new attention you managed to garner. Even still, your mind seems more fixated on whatever was on the laptop’s screen, rather than what they were doing to you.

Imayoshi can’t help but stifle his audible mirth from how you manage to change the mood of the entire library within seconds.

“How do you even forget something as important as a huge scholarship like that?” Susa says in dismay. “Makes me kind of wonder how (l/n) would handle life after graduation, to be honest.”

“Well,” Imayoshi begins. “I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s best not to underestimate (l/n)-san. Surely we’ve learned our lesson with Seirin?” He toys with the pencil grip before he sporadically draws some lines loosely resembling another sketch.

“Drawing again?” Susa raises a brow. “Have you even been studying?”

“Well,” he replies. “There’s still plenty of time before exams—months to be exact. Could you even study with the current distractions in here?” At his own words, he nudges his chin in your direction.

“It’s not just any exams though, it’s—”

“Whether they have more importance or not doesn’t really concern me. After all, standardized testing isn’t worth stressing out for when we’ve taken essentially the same thing all our lives.”

“What most are worried about is the content inside the exams, Imayoshi,” he said, carefully treading into dangerous waters with Imayoshi’s tendency to take all replies as mind-game challenges for his own amusement.

“‘If you have been paying attention consistently throughout the year, you wouldn’t be having much trouble…’ that’s what you once oh-so-wisely said to Wakamatsu yesterday, hmm?” His mimicking tone drips a hint of arrogance. “Unless you mean to tell me my ears do not work? But by all means, please feel free to correct me.”

“That’s different,” he sighed, his face clearly evident that he was done with Imayoshi’s shit. “That exam only tested content for the past year, not your entire academic repertoire over the courses of middle and high school.”

“I’d like to think that the logic still applies the same way.”

“Well,” Susa heaves with a languid stretch. “You generally score better on the exams than me, so you’re probably right. Still, don’t neglect your studying.”

“Right, right, Susa-senpai~”

“... Please don’t call me that again.”

“... If you say so,” he said, but his smile blatantly showed his real intentions of never stopping his irritable quips. Susa gets ready to pack up his book bag before he heads out the door with a friendly wave. Imayoshi half-heartedly returns the gesture with a casual wave of his own. He immediately notices you also packed up and about to leave with a worried frown, and of course, while audibly mumbling your concerns and makeshift schedules to accommodate time for last-minute essay writing. By now, all of your friends have left for home.

“Ah, biology lab due next week, kanji worksheets due tomorrow, hmm, um, how would I finish this on time… ah, calculus test is tomorrow too, ah shit… should I ask someone to tutor?—ah, but it’s super last minute, and there’s still that scholarship… argh, fuck!” Your voice peaked in volume at the end, and the librarian immediately shot daggers at you.

“Shhhhh!”

“A-Ah! S-Sorry, sorry!”

Imayoshi was watching you with his chin on his arm propped up on the desk, unable to control the smile that escaped his lips. You really were entertaining to watch, and you never cease to bore him.

He turns away to crack his neck and roll it around before methodically packing up his writing utensils and notebooks. Soft shuffling filled the air as he rearranged the items inside his bag. As he turns to pack the last thing on the table, which happened to be the notebook filled with his idle doodling, his face slightly softens at the drawing he did after the samurai. Yes, the one Susa chastised him for when he could’ve been studying. Yes, perhaps he was right when he was terrible at drawing after all; your panicked face and wild hand gestures didn’t really translate well into paper, and it looked a little too much like a horror comic and less than a sketch of you. Still, he’s oddly proud of it.

Imayoshi promptly pushes the chair in and leaves the library, but when he rounds the corner of the adjacent hallway, he bumps into you.

“Er—hi! I mean, please, uhhh… if it isn’t too much to ask—canyoupleasetutormeforthecalculustesttomorrowbecausemyfinalgradedependsonthat?”

Imayoshi winces at the sheer volume of your voice and plugs his ears in out of habit to block out some of the decibels. Wakamatsu was eerily similar to you in that regard. Only difference between the two of you was that you were deceptively intelligent. Extremely so.

“My, my, if it isn’t (l/n)-senpai!” He fakes a surprised look, earning him an eye roll on your end. “You need someone like me to teach you the works?”

“I—what? We’re literally in the same calc class, Imayoshi,” you retort. “Besides, drop the ‘senpai’ honorific. It feels so slimy when you say it so disingenuously… Aren’t we both 3rd years too?”

“I’m so hurt,” he mocks. “What if I was really genuine with you?”

“Look, right now, no remarks from you, Evil Glasses,” you say. “It’s really, really urgent and I don’t know how to grasp the material for the class lately, plus my essay, ugh…” You rub your fingers against your temples in an attempt to make the stressful headaches disappear while Imayoshi simply watches with his eyes slightly open.

“... You usually do well on all your exams, no? Unless my eyes and memory fail me.” It was true; even though you were as loud-mouthed as Wakamatsu, you would often shock a lot of people when your name always appeared in the higher percentiles of exam results. Apparently most students and teachers associate your rowdy personality with an expected subpar academic performance. He has you to thank for when your score reports always cause reactions of utter disbelief from the teachers. You really do liven up the school and make it a lot more unorthodox.

“I guess…” you mumble. “But I really wanna do especially well for this one because math is my weakest subject, and you always score the highest for these types of exams, so…”

“It may be my best subject,” he says, leaning slightly closer to your face. “But I’m not the one with the highest scores in any math subjects throughout these years, and we both know that quite well, don’t we, (l/n)? Why don’t you come clean about the real reason why you’re here?”

“Oh my literal fuck—Imayoshi, you’re one of the best students in calc right now regardless of exam results,” you petulantly huffed, not backing down from his intimidation. Imayoshi notes your cheeks reddening, and he figured it was either because of the close proximity between your faces or the fact you were frustrated… perhaps both. “And you’re the only one around here on campus who I could ask!”

“Really now,” he chimes, moving closer to whisper in your ear. “Are you sure?” With incoherent stammers, you backed away from him, slapping your hands against both of your ears to protect them.

“W-W-What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Looks like I won this one, (l/n)-san,” he purrs, relishing the fact that only he could render you this quiet. “Ho? What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“I—Shut up!” you lamely shoot back. “You can just say no if you really don’t wanna do this—urgh, I’m leaving, I’m not gonna waste any more time—”

“How hurtful,” he dryly remarks, standing up straight again after leaning for a quite a while. “It’s almost as if you’re rejecting me~” He knew you would always take his bait and quip back (unlike Susa), regardless of whether or not you tell him that you weren’t going to engage further.

“As if,” you snorted, making another exaggerated eye roll. “You’re the last person who would ever be hurt from this.”

“Dear me!” he exclaims. “Have you ever considered that perhaps I don’t help out people for free? Did you think I would be a gracious, selfless person who would help you like a saint?”

“Okay, fine! Perhaps I didn’t think that far ahead, okay? You just were the first person that came to mind, and I thought asking you wouldn’t hurt.” His smirk widens almost maliciously at your words, lips already opening to deliver another irritating quip before you immediately spoke again to stop him. “Okay, Imayoshi, you little shit, just shut up—I don’t wanna hear anything from your mouth right now.”

“I don’t see any reason why I should listen to you at all,” he muses. “Why don’t you make me?” He has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, eagerly eyeing your next move, and as he expected, you let out a frustrated noise that prompted passerby students to shoot pointed looks towards the both of you.

What he didn’t expect was for you to take a huge step towards him, unceremoniously pull him down to your level, and press a reverberating smack on his lips. His eyes are immediately blown wide open to look at your embarrassed, but determined face. His fingers unconsciously move to touch his warmed lips.

“... That was quite romantic, wasn’t it, (l/n)?” he dryly says, recovering almost immediately from the shock. All the other students fled from the blatantly bold scene to save face. Not that Imayoshi really cared.

“Okay, you know what? Bye, I’m not gonna play anymore mind games with you,” you grumble. “Essays and studying aren’t gonna be done by themselves—wah!”

Imayoshi gently tugs you back to reciprocate back a kiss, meticulously slipping his hands behind your head and on your waist to accommodate you. Your eyes are completely open from the shock that the Imayoshi Shoichi was actually kissing you. You don’t close your eyes from the sensation, completely entranced when you make eye contact with his half-lidded eyes watching your every reaction closely. The kiss ended all too soon, and Imayoshi separates himself from you, secretly admiring your dazed look.

“That was quite a strong reaction to just a simple kiss.”

“I—that was not just a ‘simple kiss!’”

“Now would you like to tell me the true reason why you approached me?”

“You’re… insinuating that you know something.”

“Well we wouldn’t know unless you come clean,” Imayoshi purrs. “I can sometimes be wrong too.”

“Ugh, what the hell—fine, I am quite enamored by you, and uh, I… find it infuriating to be with you, but it also gives me butterflies… so I thought I could be with you more… if I asked you—don’t get it twisted, though! I still need your help to study!...” He covers his mouth to suppress a laugh at your honesty.

“Was it really so hard to say that in the beginning, (l/n)-san?”

“Okay, that’s it! I’m really, really leaving! Fuck off, Imayoshi, I swear to—”

“Ho? Just a minute, darling~” he tuts, reaching to hold your hand. “Perhaps if you offer more kisses as an incentive, I’d be more inclined to offer my expertise.”

“How quaint,” you dryly reply. “It’s almost as if we’re in a relationship.”

Imayoshi can’t help but bark out a genuine laugh. You even managed to pick up some of his mannerisms so quickly.

“That’s an interesting proposal, (l/n),” he murmurs. “Should we try that?” You tut at him irritatedly as you tug your interlocked hands while speed-walking ahead.

“Hurry up, or I’ll consider breaking up with you right now.”

“Ah ha!~” he chuckles at your attitude. “How mean, (l/n)-san! Too bad that we both know that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”