#this show is truly setting roots in my brain

[italianpersonwithashippersheart]

Wanted to update this post. Thanks to a very good conversation made in this post by @weeeeeeezamboni (just putting the original post from op in the link you have to check the notes to see all the reblogs and comments on it) And all the lovely contribuition made to the post that I have seen that made me think (by @respectthepetty @slayerkitty @shannankle @moonsunpenguin) I am now back on the third killer theory, with some new addition to explain some of the things that I had problems with after my last third killer theory.

It starts with the actor on the mdl page listed as support role but that we still have not seen. His own page says he has done voice acting before, so he might be just the voices in the weird audios and the voice in the walkie talkie and not appear on screen.

OR he could be the older brother. Like my last theory says, he could have gotten a job under Uncle Dang to get unrestricted access to the cabin and study the surrounding area so he would never get lost, and bonus he would be the second person to be able to go get the boys so they will never get any actual outside help.

It was @shannankle comments both in the post above and in other post that made me think this but the killing have various levels intensity. Plus not everything about Top is seemingly going in a way that Phi and Tan expected. It would also explain why Tan was nervous in the temple. And why he wanted to go back to Phi and Jin. Having a third killer there that is taking more charge as @shannankle argued (@moonsunpenguin also made some good comments along this reasoning that made me think in the post above) would make a lot of sense as to why the plan seems to be not all going the way Phi and Tan wanted. And why it seems off that they would do such a brutal killing with Uncle Dang while only accidentaly impaling Por).

My issues with the third killer theory were two (that I got after posting the original theory and after episode 7):

If the brother is not one of the boys why haven't we seen a picture or gotten to hear his voice in the conversation with his Mom?

If Tan is not the brother then who is he? Why is he so invested in this.

I think I got theories to answer both of these questions now.

The reasons we didn't get to see his face or heard his voice if he is indeed a new person, is either because we would have recognize his voice from the walkie talkie (if he is the third killer there is no doubt in mind that he is the person Fluke talked to when he cancelled the ride). And because the average viewer who wasn't immidiately suspicious of the so called unnamed helper of Uncle Dang like myself is supposed to think that character could be their saving grace.

I am also thinking about the fact that Jin heard a car in the temple when he and Phi were alone.

So my thinking is that we are going to get a scene in the present where this sussposed new person went to check in on the boys (or on Uncle Dang which dissapeared) and finds Jin and Phi at the temple, he brings them home and calmed the boys down initially and it all feels like it's going to go well and then boom!! Killer reveal. This works only if we don't see what happened after Non went missing. But It could also work if we do see it. If we see the brother after Non went missing and see them working on the plan it could be a bit of dramatic irony. You know that he is probably the killer and lying about who he is but the characters don't.

The other point was the one I struggled with the most. Because I know Tan is in on this. So who is he? If the brother is the third killer he might be connected to the brother more and less to Non.

The rage and weird microexpressions the actor made about Non could all be attribuited to a mix of disgust and righthous anger instead of personal anger. And if he is say the boyfriend of Non's brother and was dating him when Non was still there. He might have meet him. He might have seen first hand what Non going missing did to Non's family and Non's brother.

He might also be so instent on getting a confession/answear because he thinks that will placate his boyfriend, Non's brother.

Phi and Tan's motivations seem to be more investigative and more searching for the truth/getting the boys to confess. And some of the actions taken by the killers instead are absolutely more along the lines of: I am out for bloody revenge and I don't care who gets hurt along the way.

DFF Questions And Theories Recap

I wanted to do a post where I could put down all the major questions that are still unanwered from the show and give all my thoughts and theories on each.

What Happened to Non?

Earlier I saw this post by @slayerkitty that pretty much outlined my own thoughts on this.

I have been leaning into the idea that the boys pranked and drugged him for a while now. And episode 7 just confirmed it.

What I am the most unsure off, is what happened after. Because the fact that some of these boys seem to be sure he is dead while others aren't makes me think that something happened after the prank

Now is Non alive? This one I am not sure off, if he is I am leaning thowards maybe him being in a coma or catatonic or in some kind of hospitalized situation, maybe under a fake name, thanks to Phi's dad.

Because the Mafia (Tee's Uncle) want him dead, so a fake name for both him and his brother/family might be to keep them safe.

I am not positive he is the third killer (if there even is one) if he is alive.

Most of my brain is on camp Non is dead. For the simple reason that Tan especially seem to be focused on knowing what happened to Non, and/or getting a confession. And if he can talk to Non there would just be no used for that. There would be no need to wait that long. I don't know just a feeling.

Who Are The Killers and How Many there are? And Is Tan Non's older brother?

I will start with the obvious, Phi has to be one of the killers, we are all on board with that.

While my previous theory was that Tan was not the brother and the brother was an unknown player I think I have changed my mind.

I am now 90% sure Tan is New, Non's older brother. Am I still a little bit miffed they probably casted an actor who is the same age as Barcode to play his older brother, yeah, but I figured if the actor pulls it off I can overlook the real life age, it's not like we have not ignored that before in BL land.

About the number I waffle back and fort. I am currently leaning more with there are only two killers. But I can't ever fully commit to it. If you discount the quick appereances I think I have a handle on who did what and when, mostly. And they could have definately pulled it off just Phi and Tan.

Again I do still think the way the guy that is supposed to come pick them up was introduce feel like a set up for a third killer. But it could just be about making sure they are trapped there. I don't know.

I think that Tan might be a bit of blank character on porpouse because if he is the brother, which I am becoming more and more sure with each episode, the bulk of his characterization will be post reveal.

It's definately a delicate balance to struck, because if you make the character too distinct then the reveal feels like it's coming out of nowhere. I really like the actor's microexpression and the way the camera stays on his face sometimes, I think it's very subtle and the actor does a very good job with them.

Who realesed the video?

This section is a bit shorter, I mostly just want to highlight the two post I have seen pointing out some stuff about the video

This one by @firstmix

and This one by @raelle-writing

I wanted to add that maybe Tee and/or Top hide themselves in the office because they thought they could film the teacher giving Non money, and then caught something else instead.

I also think don't think (EDIT: I made a mistake in the og post) it's Jin that realesed the video.

Humans or Suprenatural

I am firmly on camp there is no supernatural, there is no cult. It's all staged.

I think the killers might be using drugs on the boys (see this post by @lukaherehelp for an excelled post on that)

And maybe some sort of induced hynosis/trance on Top, but it also just might be that the drugs and the fear are making him more inclined to help the masked killer, especially if he already thinks it's a ghost.

Also I don't currently have a specific post or remember the specific person sorry my memory is trash, but someone pointed out that sounds, the voices they hear and stuff, might also be used to fuck with people, if you are the person with that theory and see this tell me I will edit this. EDIT: @slayerkitty pointed out it was @shannankle who had this theory, thank you.

I think the dissapearing quick motionless apparitions might be some sort of projection. Specifically something tech related. I am thinking about Tan weirdly awakard talk with White about how he totally doesn't know anything about technology (that was a lie if I ever heard one)

And finally last but certanly not least: What are the killers realtionship/attitude thowards White and What is White role in the story?

White is the wild card, he wasn't supposed to be there. We have at least two conflicting statement on whose idea him coming with them was. Tee initially says, we agreed you would be good if you came and then says actually you didn't want to come and I instited later.

I don't think he is one of the killers there are way too many shots of him alone that make no sense if he is in on it.

Phi seems to be occasionally protective over him. In the scene where they are seeing Tee and White make out he is laughing with everyone but then after Tee says enough my little one will be sad (something of that effect) he turns to see White being embarred and puts a stop to it. He also always seem to want to keep White at the house where he could be safer.

Then of course there is the little awkward moment with the hands when Phi is telling him what to do for the shoot. It was such a odd moment to include, that it makes me believe there is something behind it we are not seeing.

Tan instead seems to be gently stearing him in a specific direction, the direction where he asks questions and wants the truth. Someone left the page of newspaper about Tee's uncle before leaving Fluke and White alone in the house, probably hoping that White would find it. I don't want to used the world manipulation yet, but it does feel a little like he is using him.

White has to be one of the final standing boys. I am not sure if he is going to be the only one. If Jin didn't realsed the video then Jin might also make it. And of course it depends about the killers. Making the killers so symphatethic the audience root for them is always a gamble if you want to end your series with both of them dead.

Is White meant to have some parallels with Non? Tee obviously is trying to change himself and be better for White, although he struggles between care and selfinesh still. White might also come from a poor background, the boys might have been more nice to him because they felt guilty about what happened to Non. There is also that moment with the rash that I think will have a bigger meaning eventually.

And has @shannankle has pointed out in their post on colors. He and Phi have some color connections with the orange.

I think that is it. Obviously the last question is about the ending, but I don't really have any theories I am ready to share for that yet. As you can see I am sure of very little.

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Angel of Music (Azriel x Reader)

AN: guys this is always one of my emotional support movies/plays I’ve seen it a million times so it only seemed fair that I give it the ACOTAR collab it deserves. 

Summary: It was the inner circles first time at the theater and from the way the Shadowsinger was blushing they all had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last. (the reader plays Christine Daae in Velaris’ adaptation of The Phantom Of The Opera and Azriel falls in love with her, but he’s afraid that she won’t like him because of his scars because she choose Raoul in the play) Set between ACOWAR and AOFAS

Warnings: Angst because of Azriel’s scars, shy az, but so much fluff, (just a little Az brain rot, didn't take this too seriously)

Word Count: 3,070

It wasn’t the shadowsinger's usual scene. Bustling people dressed to the nines, plush red chairs, gold sconces, orchestras. But Cassian had been tirelessly trying to make Nesta smile, and Ferye wanted to try and get her sisters together, so here he sat in the box that Rhysand had purchased for the night. 

Nesta loved the music and dancing, Elain loved the romance, and Feyre loved the costumes and color palettes of scenes. Cassian wanted to see Nesta smile, and Rhysand would do just about anything Feyre asked of him. 

In all his 500 years of life, Azriel had never thought to go to the theater. When he was a child he heard of his parents going but of course, he never got to go. As he grew the idea of going to see a show simply never crossed his mind.

When the lights went down and the orchestra came to life he spent most of his time watching Cassian, who was watching a very intrigued Nesta. He stayed that way until a clap and a spark echoed throughout the room. At first, he thought there was danger, but as soon as he turned his attention towards the stage he saw the large chandelier raise itself to life bringing the dilapidated stage with it. Golds, reds, and vibrant colors filled the room. 

Still, Azriel had trouble following the plot. But as he watched Nesta and her sisters become entranced by the music and dancing. The loud organ had stirred something in him, but he didn’t truly feel moved until her. 

Think of me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye…

Azriel was sitting in a box at the edge of the theater, but even from this distance, he could tell that she was the most beautiful female he had ever seen.  He scooted to the edge of his seat a tad just to be that much closer to her. Her voice was that of a siren, no not a siren, an angel. His shadows danced around his ears and his wings at the sound of her ballad. Even the rest of the inner circle seemed to be entranced by her spell. 

As the play went on he found himself becoming irrationally jealous of Raoul. The pretty Viscount had not given her a second look at the beginning of the play. It wasn’t until the organ sounded again that the sound of her voice graced Azriel’s ears. The woman walked through a mirror towards a masked man. 

Who was this masked man? Where was he taking her? It wasn’t until Mor rested her hand to where he was gripping his chair with white knuckles that he remembered it was just a play. He sat back in his seat more, trying to tell his shadows to calm down. But as her voice climbed and climbed that beautiful crescendo they twisted and turned around him. 

Azriel spent the rest of the play being utterly entranced by the beautiful singer’s relationship with the Phantom. The masked man was dark and radical, staying in the shadows where no one could see him. He observed her from afar. Much like the shadowsinger did himself in every aspect of his life. 

It was clear to him that the Phantom was in love with Christine. So when Raoul and Christine kissed he nearly felt his heart shatter. The way the Phantom mourned, and cried, it felt all too personal to Azriel. 

I  gave you my music, made your way. And now how you’ve repaid me, denied me and betrayed me…

  From there on out Azriel found himself rooting for the Phantom, the man he saw so much of himself in. He nearly shed a tear when he found out why the man wore a mask. A scared child in a cage made to perform. 

He looked down at his mangled hands sitting on the arms of his chair. He had known a similar childhood and had suddenly wished he had something like a mask to cover such torn flesh. Maybe then the beautiful woman on stage might look at him with that same lovesick gaze, she wore now for Raoul, but he knew that could never be.

For a moment he felt joy, seeing her kiss the Phantom with such passion, such love. Only for that joy to be extinguished like a candle when she walks out with the Viscount. Of course, she would choose him, life does imitate art after all. It wasn’t until the curtain went down and the crowd erupted in thunderous applause that Azriel broke from his trance, standing to applause with them. 

“Well that was wonderful,” Feyre beamed, linking her arm with Rhysand’s. 

“I’ll say, that girl sang like an angel,” Mor gushed, fanning herself with her program as we all made our way out of the box. “Even Azriel seemed to enjoy it,” the female smirked, bumping Azriel with her shoulder. She had seen the lovesick gaze in his eyes. 

“It was so romantic the way Raoul came to rescue her,” Elain swooned, grabbing her sister's other arm. 

“Oh please, the Phantom was the obvious choice!” Nesta huffed at her sister's comment. 

“Nesta, would you like to meet the cast? Maybe talk to some of the dancers?” Feyre asked, changing the subject quickly before conflict arose. 

Nesta thought for a moment and spoke again, “Yes I would.” all she said. 

Of course, it was an easy task for Rhys to sweet-talk his way backstage, the inner circle sticking out like a sore thumb as they weaved past props, costumes, and the ensemble. Azriel’s eyes stayed ever vigilant, unable to let go of years of training as they walked down a dark hall. A cast member opened a door at the end of the hall to reveal mirrors with glimmering faelights around them. Vanities with every manor of makeup and costume jewelry. Two men he recognized as the actors who played the Viscount and the Phantom. 

The Phantom had washed off the makeup that made his face look scarred. Once again Azriel wished he too had that ability. Rhys and Feyre shook both their hands introducing them to the whole inner circle, but Azriel paid no mind. His hazel eyes were searching for a hint of her.

“Oh y/n there’s someone who wants to meet you!” called out one of the actors. 

“Oh, really who?” called a voice so melodic Azriel just knew that she had to be an angel. 

His shadows wisped around him frantically, calling out her name in his ear, like they were excited to finally know it. Rhys and Feyre’s eyes looked to their friend and smiled at one another. 

She walked around from a changing screen, tying the strings of the robe she was wearing that looked similar to the one she had worn on stage. She nearly stopped in her tracks as she saw her High Lord and Lady staring at her. 

“My Lord, My Lady,” she bows. “It is an honor.”

“No, no, please don’t bow,” Feyre rushes over, bringing the singer upright. “If anything we should be bowing to you. You sang like a goddess out there, you are truly talented.”

“Why thank you, my Lady, I’m truly happy you enjoyed the show,” she smiled and Azriel’s heart all but glowed. 

“Please call me Feyre,” the High Lady smiles, extending her hand. 

“Y/n,” the singer replied, taking her hand and shaking it. 

Azriel kept to the sidelines as the inner circle conversed with the cast and crew. Feyre and Rhys praised the play director and claimed they would be purchasing their box for the rest of the season. Nesta picked the brains of the dancers and their instructor, Cassian listening dutifully behind her. Elain chatted up the Phantom and Raoul, both actors seemingly falling for her, once again showing how life imitates art. 

Mor talked to y/n, about what? Azriel didn’t know. But the second Mor caught Az gazing at y/n she held out a hand to him. 

“Y/n I’d like you to meet Azriel, spymaster for the night court,” Mor said, beckoning Azriel over. 

Azriel quickly put his hands behind his back, not wanting to scare her with his scars. He could’ve sworn he saw her cheeks tint a shade pinker as he approached, looming over her in size. 

“How do you do?” y/n asks.

It takes a second for Azriel to realize that her angelic voice is speaking to him.

“Oh um, very well thanks.” he stutters, already feeling like a fool. Gods she was even more beautiful up close, he found himself suddenly longing for the box that offered him sanctuary, or a mask like the Phantom had. 

“Did you um, enjoy the show?” she probed and Azriel realized that Mor had conveniently dismissed herself. 

“I did,” he said quickly. “You have a beautiful voice, I could’ve listened all night.” 

Once again he swore he saw y/n blush as she looked down at her feet, “Thank you, though I think I fell flat a little in the first song. Opening night and all,” she laughed nervously and oh Cauldron, the sound of her laughter was enough to make Az take one step towards her. 

“No it was perfect, all of it.” he spat out, not standing to hear her say one more bad thing about herself. 

“Well thank you Azriel,” she said and by the fucking Cauldron she smiled at him. His name fell off her perfect lips and she smiled at him. He must’ve been dead and somehow gotten to heaven, there was no other explanation. 

The rest of the inner circle watched the pair intently. Feyre sank further into Rhysand’s side as they both realized they were watching Azriel fall in love in real-time. The yin and yang of the pair was near poetic and Feyre told herself she would pain this exact moment tomorrow morning. 

“Y/n why don’t you come to dinner with us? We would love to hear more about you,” Rhysand smiled.

His words broke the trance y/n was in, “Oh my Lord I truly wish I could, but I have an early day tomorrow and my apartment is clear across town.” She apologized. 

“No worries, it sounds like we will all be back for tomorrow night's show as well. Though I would hate for you to walk home alone,” Rhys smirked trying to get Azriel to bite at the bait.

“Not to worry I make the trek all the time,” she smiled, picking up the many vases of flowers people had left for her on her vanity. 

“Azriel could walk you home, couldn’t you Az?” Mor chimed in and Azriel shot her a look. 

“Uh, yeah I could if you’d like,” Azriel mentioned stuttering over his words as he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Oh no I wouldn’t want to take you from dinner with your family,” she assured him, picking up two large vases of flowers. 

“Not at all, I would be honored to walk you home,” the shadowsinger said a little too quickly. Feyre tried to stifle her laugh in Rhys’ side, she had never seen her spymaster so flustered. 

“Okay then,” the girl smiled and soon enough they were off down the cobblestone street, their way lit by dim faelight. 

y/n’s pov:

“Your shadows are incredible,” I smile watching as the dark wisps carry the various vases of flowers down the road. 

I had been more than happy to have the High Lord’s shadowsinger walk me home. In all honesty, I was captivated by the male the moment I set eyes on him. Sure he was hard, dressed in black, and over a foot taller than me. 

A sane woman might’ve kept her distance from the male, he was dangerous after all. But I knew the moment he spoke that he wasn’t a threat. There was a quiet and gentle calm underneath all that darkness.

“Thank you,” he says and I swear I see him blush. “They seem to really like you.” 

“They do? How can you tell?” I laugh as one of the little fellas brush against my cheek like a cat brushing against an ankle. 

“They went wild when you were singing tonight,” he chuckles, seemingly remembering how they danced. 

“Really?” I ask balking a bit. 

“I’m serious, give it a try,” he smiles, motioning for me to sing again. 

I shrug and clear my throat before singing a line from the play, “Angel of Music, hide no longer. Come to me, strange angel,” I sang softly and sure enough the little shadows danced and swirled around me. Threading themselves through my hair and around my arms where they held my vases of flowers. 

“That’s amazing,” I breathe finally watching the small wisps die down, hiding behind their master like they were shy. 

“You’re amazing,” their master spits out and then blushes. ‘

I can’t help but feel myself blush too, shying away from the hulking Illyrian. He didn’t look so tough as his shadows carried dozens of flowers behind him. He had walked down the street with his hands behind his back the whole time, not needing to lift a finger. 

The little purple door I’m so used to seeing comes into view. Outside the cottage are dozens and dozens of roses and the light inside is out. 

“I leave these here,” I say gesturing to the flowers I’m holding as I set them on the front porch. 

“Why not take them home? Were they not gifted to you?” Azriel cocks an eyebrow as his shadows place the flowers neatly next to the ones I set down. 

I laugh starting back down the path towards my place, “I get so many, I can’t possibly keep them all. Marla is an elderly woman who lost her husband years ago. It brings her joy to have them, so I leave them for her. Besides it’s not like they’re from anyone special,” I shrug, subtly dropping the hint to Azriel that I’m not otherwise engaged. 

Azriel pauses beside me and approaches a rose bush blooming near one of the cottages. Drawing his dagger, he carefully slices off a vibrant red rose. Before offering it to me, he painstakingly removes every thorn with the same blade, as if to protect my hands from even the slightest prick.

“You deserve to have at least one flower,” he says offering me the rose. 

I blush and go to reach for it when I catch sight of his hand. The mangled and marred flesh. I can’t help but feel my breath hitch as I wonder who could’ve done such a thing to such a gentle soul. The scarred hand pulls back a bit as if realizing my staring. 

“I guess I’m more Phantom than dashing Viscount,” he utters sadly, referring to my play and my role in it. My heart shatters as I see his broken expression. 

“You know,” I smile, taking the rose from his scarred hands. “I always thought that Christine should end up with The Phantom, he was clearly the better choice.” 

His head whips up as if I’ve uttered an inconceivable phrase. “Even though he had ugly scars?” Azriel inquires, his face tight like he might not want to hear whatever answer I provide.

“Who said he was ugly?” I laugh, did this beautiful specimen of a male truly believe he was ugly because his hands bore scars? 

“So you would choose the Phantom?” he cocks an eyebrow as if trying to read if I was telling the truth.

“In a heartbeat,” I affirm confidently and honestly.

He takes a step towards me, his form getting even bigger, “and what about scarred hands? Is that a deal breaker?” he probes, holding out his hands so I can see that they both harbor similar markings.  

I shake my head taking another step towards him, appreciating the beauty that is him. From the white scars that ran up his hands, to the shadows that danced around him like they they were whispering to him.

“So if I asked you to dinner after your show tomorrow?” he queries taking a step towards me as well.

“I would ask you where we are going?” I reply feeling my cheeks heat up. Was he asking me out? I tried to push the butterflies down in my stomach.

“Rita’s ?” he shrugs, stepping forward. 

“Sounds like a plan,” I smile moving towards him more, like I was compelled to.

“I’ll swing backstage after the curtain closes,” he smiles, seemingly becoming more confident in himself as we step closer together just a few feet apart.

“I’ll put your name on the list,” I say, feeling his presence pull me in. 

“And if I were to send you flowers? What kind would you like?” he interrogates further. 

I think for a moment, no one had ever asked me what flowers I might like to receive. My eyes look around as if searching for inspiration until they land on a blue siphon adorning his chest that’s right in front of me. 

“Something blue,” I blush knowing that when I see the cobalt flowers on my vanity I will know they are from him. 

“Consider it done,” he smiles and I suddenly realize that we’re mere inches apart now. 

I turn to my right where the blue door to my house beckons to be opened. Pulling out my keys I unlock it and use my shoulder to shove it open as it always gets stuck. 

“Well,” I say shyly. “Thank you for walking me home,” 

“Anytime,” he smiles looking down at his feet. 

The sight of the bashful warrior on my front doorstep has me melting. His face is so beautiful and perfectly carved I can't help but lean up on my toes and kiss his cheek. I almost regret it when it’s over but the violent red of his cheeks makes me smile again.

“Well goodnight,” I say, trying not to let my words shake in the process. 

“Goodnight,” he smiles, brushing a hand against his freshly kissed cheek.

I close the door and place the single, thornless, rose he cut for me in a vase. It isn’t until I turn on a light that I hear him take off into the night and I swear I hear him let out a grand whoop from way up in those clouds.

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202 , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark , @cheneyq

[lovelybeesthings]

Thorn in my way

Coriolanus snow x fem reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warning: Kinda smut doesn't go that great I tried 😭

Summary: C. Snow soon finds out he has completion with someone one equally cruel and to reach to the top no matter the cost leading him to drive ti the top or second.

As Coriolanus Snow soon heard of how the academy would be giving out a scholarship to the mentor of the winner of the Hunger Games which had made him both nervous and cocky thinking of this as his chance as he had been an amazing student a good one at that and no one could compare to his level and devotion to winning or so he thought..

Coriolanus was soon assigned to a girl from distract 12 was one of the worst distracts and she wasn't in the best shape that she could perform which was good to make people like her but it was hard to work with he soon tried to think of ideas to help her odds for his win he was sure that with his smart brain, he'd sure to accomplish this task at hand. During his time with Lucy Grey, he quickly develops feelings for his tribute with this set in mind it just moves him even more restored in using cheating techniques. “Well if it isn't my competition~” he heard a voice from the back of him he tried to recognize it but failed to and was confused with their words who were in the same league as him.

He turns his head to see a beautiful girl in the academy uniform her hair was long he hair was surely beautiful and the color was like (what ur hair color resembles) her beauty was amazing he doesn't know it but his heart beast a bit faster than usual more then it does for Lucy but all Coriolanus can think about is who is this girl? Why hasn't he seen her before if she says she's his competition and her beauty would surely attract him “Y/n Impala, I'm the mentor of your little songbird teammate Reaper, well I'd like to say that you shouldn't fall in love with that girl I mean if you're trying to achieve the same goal I become the head game maker with the scholarship or are you just stupid Coriolanus” Y/n bold words give a complete shock to Coriolanus he is amazed and feels the need to win more than ever this girl has remained him of what he needs to accomplish but still he doesn't respond instead his piercing blue eyes look at her girl shorter then him recognizing her as a threat.

The girl blinks as she notices the handkerchief in his pocket and smiles as she leaps in for a hug surprising the boy with blond moppy color hair that is in long curls and his handsome complexion as she carefully takes his handkerchief with lucy greys tears after I while she lets goes and hums holding the handkerchief under her jacket.

Dr. Volumnias lab

As Coriolanus sneaks in time he smirks as his plan is coming together all he has to do is give the snake Lucy's handkerchief years right in his- sudden chills run down his back as he can't find it where could he possibly put it? He soon realizes y/n had taken it when she hugged him out of nowhere he feels anger and wants to show her not to mess with him as he will give her the consequences of her actions, he walks the halls of the Academy with an angry face as he looks for the girl he turns his head seeing the girl in the garden of the Academy her arm was bleeding straight clean cuts he looks closely to the root of the problem seeing her dig in a rose bush.

“What are you doing?” his stern deep voice says causing y/n to face him “Nothing” she replies he can tell she's lying and just asks her angrily “Where's the handkerchief? Don't deny it I know you have it” She looks back at him smiling as her arm bleeds* “Why would I give it to you? I mean give me a fair trade and I'll hand it to you not like you can force me to do it I could tell the board you're using shady tactics to cheat” he clenches his fist This girl was truly a thorn in his goal she wasn't lying about he being his match his perfect rival.

He sees long bunny ears come out of the Bush as she holds a bunny that surprisingly didn't get hurt from the thorn Bush y/n bloody arms holds the rabbit smiling and starts to walk away leaving him shocked and a bit amazed at this girl.

Knock at the door

Around 2 am y/n gets a sudden knock at her dorm door as she opens it in her long nightgown her hair is in bubble braids with ribbon in them “Which idiot woke me up in my sleep” As she takes her candle up she sees blond locks and smirks “Goldilocks” Coriolanus's face appears in front of her candlelight “I know to offer you in return for the handkerchief” *she's a bit curious to know what it is “And that is Goldilocks?” she says looking a Him with siren eyes as he pushes into her dorm putting the candle down and kissing her lips she responds with a kiss and hops on him wrapping her legs around his waist and he holds her tightly kissing her* “Mmh” *he breaks out of this kiss smirking and soon pushes her to her bed.

After a while, he takes off her nightgown and unhooking her bra he takes a moment huffing looking at her fully round breasts and her nipples (n/c) he stares at her breast and looks up at her for her consent, his eyes pleading with lust and her cheeks rosy and nods with her willingness he begins to cup her breast in his hand as and brings one to his mouth sucking on it as he plays with the other one with his hand leading her pleading “ahh~” she bites her lips holding in her moan.

After I while he takes off his shirt and pants leaving him in his trousers he kisses her lips then her jaw then her chest her stomach and stops at her clothed clit taking off her pink panties as he sees her clit he smiles at her eyes peaking at him blushing like crazy he starts to lick her clit with thick licks driving her crazy moaning to his tongue after a while she soon cums in his mouth and he smiles and began to fit his fingers in her clit making her meow like a cat in her moans.

“More-e..ahH~!” y/n says in a moan as he finger fucks her making her drunk on just his fingers “Is my rose petal losing it with just my hands~?” he teases as she nods after I big later his budget is clearly showing in his trousers and slides them down showing his 7inch cock he alines his cock right to my cliff and slowly rims in “fuck-k y/n~” (time skip I'm tired and I suck at writing smut)

As Coriolanus lays down and y/n rests her silky soft hair on his chest falling asleep he stares at her for a few moments together as she thinks about his feelings about Lucy Grey he believes he loved that girl but whenever he competes with y/n his heart beats like crazy…his face expression changes into a devilish one y/n is someone who is a capitol elite like him her by his side he could rule the caption and kissed her head soon his eyes fall on their own.

As Coriolanus's eyes slowly open from the sun shining down on his face he notices that y/n isn’t on them anymore and looks for them in the room spotting them putting on a new pair of panties and bra as she puts on her academic uniform and applies her makeup “Oh hey good morning” *she says sweetly and hands him his uniform ironed and filed nicely with the handkerchief, surprising him a bit at her act like a wife to her husband “Thanks” she fixes her hair and smiles “you can go if you’d like you don’t have to stay you know” *he smiles she hears in her voice how’d she like him to stay and starts to put on his uniform he tries to fix his long nippy blond hair but the y/n brushes it out for him leaving him blushing and smiling at the size difference him having to kneel a bit* “there you go now your so handsome” she says making him smile “we should get going the games are going to start soon”.

(jump skip to when he comes back to the Capitol after murdering 3 people including Lucy 😭)

As Coriolanus breath the capitol's air again he smirked to himself devilishly he soon entered the halls once again knowing where he stood and how he'd make a name for himself but one thing he forgot was his little rose petal y/n passed by him not noticing him as she looks even more beautiful than their last meeting she walks with bandages on her arm and a bunny in her arms “you need to stop I can keep putting my arms in Rose busses to keep getting you out of them”

He smirks at her and quickly grabs her by her waist surprising her she's about to fight whoever is touching her but realizes it's Coriolanus “OMG!” she hugs him tightly as tears slip out of her tears “I thought you were distracted 12th with that girl Lucy Grey” she says as he wipes her tears “I remembered what I wanted in my life and that includes a life with you” she closes her eyes as he holds her close smirking he was foolish to think he wanted a life with Lucy grey when he can build his empire and he's already found his wife.

The end 😭

[neuroticbookworm]

FRIENDS. FRIENDS.

Cooking Crush is undoubtedly one of the best shows airing at the moment.

Today's episode gave me so much life that I don't even know where to begin, but I'm gonna try my best to pull two (2) coherent thoughts out of my melting brain.

1. The Three Must-Eat-eers Conflict and Resolution:

Last episode had set up such a perfect conflict that's rarely handled well in any media: the bruised feelings of the single friend when the rest of the gang gets into committed romantic relationships. Most of the time this scenario shows up in media, one party will be framed as selfish and/or jealous. None of that nonsense here; Cooking Crush has always taken the friendship of its characters very seriously, especially Prem, Dynamite and Samsee. Samsee’s feelings were hurt not just because of his own fears of being abandoned by his friends, he was also (rightfully) mad that he ended up as the only friend who was kept out of the loop of knowing that his best friends had boyfriends now. But Prem and Dynamite did not intend to do this, and they were also right to set their own pace in making their relationship public, but it’s just that the string of accidental reveals happened in an order that made Samsee feel like a third-wheeler in his own home, twice over.

Cooking Crush treats its characters with a lot of kindness and empathy and it shows. Prem and Dy wanting to keep their relationships under wraps for the time being is valid. Samsee feeling hurt and lost, and opting out of the competition is valid. This episode begins with the drama of the cooking competition and works its comedy (thank you for the chuckles, wildly gesticulating White Man) and romance (my poor heart swooned all over my rib cage when Ten helped Prem into his chef clothes). And when the time came for the big reconciliation, the show does not sweep away Samee’s very hurt feelings just because Prem and Dy struggled without Samsee for most of the first round of cooking. He apologizes for ditching them and Dy was having none of it.

(Dy, my perfect child, oh how I love you with my entire heart)

Perfect resolution. and a well-earned, most adorable group hug to bookend it. I truly could not be more in love with this show. Or can I?

2. Miscommunication? Nah.

Well, this episode also featured the Annoying Asshole Chef dude who’s determined to pursue Prem even though it is very clear that Prem is not interested and would reject his advances, if only he stuck around long enough to actually get rejected and not run away from him like a goddamn coward. I was furious when he positioned himself as an actual option for Prem to Ten in this episode, and thoroughly enjoyed every moment Ten chose to call him out on his bullshit.

But y’all. The very inappropriate hug. The well-deserved punch to his stupid face. The storm-off. All of it had me very concerned that this is all barrelling towards a classic miscommunication moment.

BUT NO.

THE SHOW SAID THERE WILL BE NO STUPID MISCOMMUNICATION.

NOT IN THIS HOUSE.

My problem with the miscommunication trope is that it ultimately positions the couple we are supposed to be rooting for as a weak team. Honest communication and vulnerability in a new-ish relationship is not easy, and it takes a lot of courage to take that step to be the one to spell out the facts, and trust that the other person likes them well enough to keep an open ear, and believe them when they say a meddling cowardly asshole is trying to get in the way of their relationship. Ten’s bravery was perfectly contrasted with the sliminess of the Annoying Cowardly Chef (I refuse to learn his name, he is not worth my braincells).

Oh but Ten wasn’t done yet!

I absolutely adore how he moves the conversation away from that pesky little pest of a human towards something that matters more: his desire to make things official with Prem. The Annoying Asshole Chef was not the focus of the conversation, Ten and Prem are. And it all culminates in an incredible kiss and a camera swoop that already has a permanent little shrine in my silly little head.

TAKE MY HEART, COOKING CRUSH. TREAT IT WELL.

[folkwhore1998]

And I don't know how it gets better than this.

Let's talk about Fearless on the eras tour!

The fearless set is literally perfection and I am not even joking. I would not have changed a single song. (I maybe would have added one, but I would not have wanted any taken off of the set list)

It is so nostalgic and brings me back to my middle school years. I had this baby spinning on a CD with my corded headphones.

Opening up with Fearless as the first song is so special and I can't explain it, but I feel like it scratches my brain just right. Love Story, You Belong With Me, and Fearless are classic bops and songs you think of when you think Taylor Swift, and there is no better way to honor the era than to play the songs everyone knows and loves. Hot take: I think Forever and Always x Mr.Perfectly Fine mashup would have been so epic, or either one on its own. Despite this; I truly think that the setlist was perfect.

The Fearless era outfits are so much fun and I think they're such a good ode to her baby fearless era. But, my absolute favorite has to be...

The short gold body suit/dress. I just love it so much and it is the most fearless thing I've ever seen. It is stunnnnning.

The tiger stripe body suit/dress is a fairly new addition to the wardrobe and I love it! I would not have expected it and was very surprised when it made its debut.

Silver and gold noodle dresses are not my favorites, but I can say they are incredibly unique and I've never seen dresses like them before.

The black and gold tassels is another fun one as well and I feel she loves a good tassel moment. It's especially fun for this set because of all of the spins she does during the set.

I'm actually very surprised that fearless has so many different outfits in rotation. There are some that get worn than others, but they all get a decent amount of stage time which is why think it's the perfect number of outfits.

Another very important thing to note about the Fearless set is the bedazzled guitar. I can't even put into words how much I love it. I feel like sometimes artists can become disconnected from their roots. Granted, I am not an artist, but I am a person, and this is a common thing that happens with people. Famous or not- it doesn't matter. However, I think this just speaks to the artist Taylor is and the amount of work she puts into her craft. The attention to detail is insane and I can just tell she takes great amounts of pride in her work, no matter how long far back it goes. I wonder if re-recording her albums healed her inner child at all. I know it did for me.

It's the fact her and her family bedazzled the guitar together as well. I just love everything about it.

Favorite Fearless Eras Tour moments:

PLAY FEARLESS!!!!!!!!

I can't tell you why, but the opening just makes me incredibly emotional.

Question: Does anyone think the Fearless set should have also been a cross over with Taylor Swift/Debut in the way folklore and evermore are together? I really wish debut would have made it onto the show!

@taylornation @taylorswift

[thefrogdalorian]

The Best of Both Worlds: Chapter Ten

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Word Count:  9833 Rating: MATURE (18+ MDNI) Summary: The realities of the secret he is keeping from you begin to weigh heavily on Din's mind and he seeks advice from a certain curly haired co-star on what his next move should be. Things don't go exactly according to plan, not least because of the typically awful English weather... Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption, reader passes out from drinking too much and Din lifts her up (But made clear how strong/athletic he is, I struggle to imagine it for myself anyway!). Smut (non explicit, a lot of implied action but it gets a little steamy). Author's Note: Thanks for being patient while waiting for this one! It took longer than I hoped to publish it becaus I wanted to get it juuuust right as this wis a very important chapter for Din and Sunflower. I'd love to know what you think of his decision.... ���

10. There's A War Inside Of Me - (Din's POV)

Din Djarin was in a bind. A terrible bind. Since meeting you, he had weaved a web of half-truths. The unbelievable, ridiculous set of events that had introduced you into his life had led him to this position: ensnared in the centre of a tangle torrid of lies that formed a web of his own making. Din knew that the position was becoming untenable. But he did not have the faintest idea of where to even begin to untangle himself. All Din knew for certain was that every second that the lie continued brought fresh agony to his anguished soul. 

The misery of not being in your presence was only compounded by the knowledge that you did not truly know who he was. 

Things did not get any better when Din spent time with you. Every time Din was with you, he feared that the truth would inadvertently slip out somehow and the secret he was keeping from you would be revealed. His fears were well-founded as, throughout the short time you had been dating, there had already been several close shaves. Moments when Din had come precariously close to having his cover blown.

Like on that night in the hotel when a bottle of champagne had almost brought everything crashing down around him…

✯✯✯

Din watched in horror as you raised the bottle in his direction when he entered your suite, after briefly leaving you alone to check on Kuiil and Grogu. His astonishment was not merely because you had, somehow, gotten your hands on more alcohol. It was directed in equal measure towards the little gold envelope you were clutching in your hand. 

“Din!” You shrieked. Din was completely bemused by how your previously sober – or at least sobering-up self – had been replaced by the giddy, giggly girl from the noodle shop. 

“They knocked on my door and gave me a bottle of champagne! Me! A bottle of champagne! Can you believe that?” You giggled breathlessly. “They gave me this envelope too, addressed to some guy called Jim Freeman! How funny is that? Do I look like my name is Jim Freeman?”

Din still stood there by the door, unmoving, rooted to the spot. You had realised, he knew it. You knew exactly who the man bearing that name was. It was the final piece of the puzzle which had led to you figuring out Din’s true identity. He knew with absolute certainty you were about to confront him about the secret he had been hiding from you. He braced himself for everything to come crashing down around him. When it did not, and you took another swig from the enormous bottle, Din employed his most convincing tone and attempted to steer you away from your current train of thought. 

“That’s pretty funny, Sunflower,” Din said with a nervous, awkward chuckle.

“It is!” You giggled. “It’s really funny. Did you know that the guy who created my favourite show has the same name?” You slurred, swaying slightly. There it was. Despite your alcohol-addled brain, you still remembered who the creator of The Mandalorian was. Din briefly tensed up, waiting for that particular train of thought to continue. When it didn’t, he felt himself relax as he realised that your drunken brain was too foggy to piece together the implications. Yet, Din was not yet out of the woods. When you spoke again, his blood ran cold. 

 “Wait!” You exclaimed, eyes widening as though a lightbulb had just switched on in your mind. “Do you know him? Is Jim Freeman your boss?” 

“No, he’s not my boss. It must be a common name. Perhaps they got the wrong room,” Din said quickly, hoping you wouldn’t press it further. He looked around the room, frantic for a distraction for your inebriated mind, which shouldn’t prove too difficult, considering how far gone you were. Din noticed a door leading away from the main room of the suite, giving him the perfect opportunity to change the subject. “Have you seen the bathroom yet?”

“No!” You squealed delightedly.

“Come on, Sunflower,” Din smiled, extending his hand to you. “I’ll show you the bathroom. It’s incredible, it even has a hot tub!”

Din felt himself relax a little as you grabbed his hand and followed him into the bathroom, squealing with delight at the promise of the luxuries which lay beyond the door. He hoped that in your intoxicated state, you had put down an envelope addressed to the writer of your favourite TV show sharing a name to mere coincidence. Of course, it wasn’t a coincidence at all. Din always asked Fennec to book hotels using Jim’s name. He didn’t have much longer to fret about it, though, distracted by your drunken antics as you clambered into the hot tub, fully clothed.

When Din had finally convinced you to dress in the swimsuit you had packed and joined you in the water, he delighted in the enthusiastic way you grabbed him and kissed him as the two of you sloshed around in the hot tub. The intimate moment certainly helped to put his mind at ease, though he did not allow things to escalate much further given your vulnerable state.

During a break in your slightly sloppy make-out session, Din watched, dumbfounded, as you clapped your unsteady hands against his jaw, cradling it in your hands. 

“You know, Din. You’re sooooo nice and kind, just like my favourite character Mando!” You giggled, clearly finding yourself hilarious without any idea of just how much your words terrified the man at your side. You sighed, staring at him contemplatively, and added, after a hiccup: “You kind of remind me of him.”

Din trembled with fear, despite the temperature of the water, as the implications of your words sunk in. He fretted that somehow, you had noticed the similarities. That even underneath the armour, with a distorted voice, he had failed to conceal his mannerisms once out of it well enough to fool you. Of course he had, you loved the show passionately. He should have foreseen this moment. He should have been honest from the beginning.

Mercifully, before Din could panic any further, he watched silently – with a stunned expression on his face – as you moved your hands from his cheeks down to his shoulders.

“And LOOK! Look at these broad shoulders!” You said, stroking his shoulders with a sleepy smile on your face. “So strong! You’re so strong, Din,” you slurred, before curling yourself into Din’s side and leaning down to rest your head on one of the shoulders that you apparently so admired. Then, you promptly fell asleep there, alerting Din to the fact when you began snoring loudly.

Din sat there, utterly baffled at the events which had just unfolded. At first, he panicked that you were making some kind of profound comparison between him and the character. As he considered it further, it seemed much more likely that it was your drunken ramblings, brought about due to your crush on Mando. Despite how far gone you were due to the baijiu and champagne, you had come terrifyingly close to the truth. You would never know just how correct you were.

Once he had ascertained that you were out for the count, Din realised that he needed to move you to bed. He sighed as he disentangled himself from your embrace and climbed out of the hot tub. Din scooped you up in his strong arms and was thankful that he adhered to such a strict exercise regime, perfect for lifting the dead weight of an adult human, passed out in a drunken stupor. Din laid you on the bed and towelled you off gently, before carefully tucking you under the crisp sheets. He dropped a gentle kiss on your forehead, before standing back and gazing at you sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil that your words had provoked within him. Din’s heart contorted in pain, as he realised his predicament. Tonight, a line had been crossed. Din knew that he had finally lied to you for the first time. How could he ever look into your eyes again? Your sweet innocent eyes, which gazed at him with so much devotion and admiration. If you knew who he truly was, the secret he was hiding from you, could you ever love him?

After Din left your room, he had lain awake for hours, tossing and turning in the luxurious suite next to yours as Grogu slept soundly in a travel cot by his bed. He couldn’t help but worry about the implications of the night, of the lie. The words he had said due to the golden envelope with Jim’s name on it. Din fretted about what would happen if you ever connected the dots in a way more profound than your drunken admiration of his shoulders. Would he lose you forever?

Din tried to push those depressing thoughts far from his mind as he looked at the little boy who was sleeping soundly by his side. He hoped for both of their sakes that he hadn’t blown it with you. That Din had been able to successfully explain the name away to your tipsy self. Din loved spending time in your company. He was stunned by how natural things felt with you already. Since meeting you, he had felt freer within himself than he had for a long, long time.

If he had ruined things with you, Din Djarin knew that he would never forgive himself.

✯✯✯

The following week, however, it appeared that Din had not ruined anything. Far from it, in fact, if the fact that he was currently making out with you on your couch was any indication. Din’s lips were pressed against yours while your fingers tangled in his hair and lightly scratched his scalp as Din explored your mouth and face with his kisses. He felt himself grow hard when you panted into his ear and asked him whether he wanted to take this to your room. It was a question that only had one reply.

As Din followed you to your room, he grinned as he felt your hand in his, leading him to the place where he hoped your relationship would finally reach a new level. Finally, it seemed that Din would have the opportunity to show you how attracted he was to you, to show you how much you meant to him. His pulse rate quickened as he thought about how he would get to explore every inch of your body with his lips and convey how much he adored you with something more than his words. He thought back to how frustrated he had been that night in the hot tub, when you had been so close to him wearing so little. It had been the sweetest torture. Tonight had been torture of a different kind. Feeling your body so close to his as the two of you had been gradually getting closer to each other as you cuddled and watched a movie. Din had been patiently waiting for you to make some kind of move, some suggestion to take things up a notch. Now that you had, it seemed that he would finally have his chance to worship your body the way he had wanted to since he had first laid eyes upon you. Din couldn’t believe how beautiful you were, how right it felt when he held you in his arms. He couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to get close to you. If the man who first laid eyes upon you at the convention could see himself now, Din knew that he would scarcely believe how lucky he was. 

Now, Din was achingly close to having you all to himself as you guided him to your room. To your bed.

Din could barely contain himself when you whined into his ear, begging for him. Especially when you took the lead and pushed him up against the door, searching his mouth desperately with your tongue. The feeling as your hands snaked underneath his shirt and roamed across his skin was intoxicating, every inch of his skin was on fire.

He threw his head back against the door in ecstasy, euphoric at your gentle touch. When Din’s eyes briefly flickered open again, he glimpsed it. He knew immediately what it was. He immediately seized up in fear, hoping for one, brief moment that he had been mistaken and the two of you could continue along to where Din’s mind and body was screaming at him to take this. Unfortunately, as the endorphins left his body, Din accepted exactly what – or, rather, who – the poster depicted. He recognised the pose with an intimacy that only the man who had served as the model for the artwork would know. 

It was as though Din was staring into some kind of horrifying, twisted mirror, and seeing his own reflection. He stared in horror at the enormous figure of Mando, looming over the bed. Your bed. The image of himself towering there, omniscient, omnipresent and watching the two of you embracing almost sickened him to his stomach. It felt as though Din, as Mando, was judging himself from behind that dark visor. It was a bizarre, out of body experience. 

Din felt a sharp stab of pain, as though he had been winded in a stunt gone wrong. He was instantly transported to the time during the filming of season one, when he had been punched in the ribs after an actor had accidentally struck a gap between his plates of beskar. Just as it had been back then, all the air had been knocked out of Din’s lungs when he looked up above your bed and saw the poster you hung there. The effigy of himself, of the character he portrayed, known to millions of people around the world – including you – hanging there, right above where he wanted to take you. Din knew he couldn’t make love to you underneath a poster of himself. That would be sick and twisted. The thought of the black t-visor boring down at him, staring at him judgmentally as he took you on the bed… it was sickening.

It was then that he had pulled away and ran away, like a coward, rather than telling you the truth…

✯✯✯

Things had not gotten any easier for Din in the days that had followed since that evening in your bedroom. His soul was as anguished as ever, as he realised the precariousness of his situation. It had taken all of his strength and experience to make it to the end of another week of filming. Between takes, however, his mind wandered as he fretted about what to do, about where to even begin, were he to tell you the truth. 

Events from that night at your flat in particular had been weighing heavily on Din’s mind. It wasn’t as though Din had ever been in the dark about your love for the show that he was the star of, but seeing an image of himself in your bedroom, right above your bed, had rocked him to his core. It had made him realise what a dangerous position he had put himself in by being reckless and exploring a relationship with you. The worst thing was how much he cared for you. He was at constant war with himself, wondering how he dared to have the right to say he cared for you after the way he had purposefully hidden something from you. After he had lied to you.

Of course, when he thought of that night, Din was frustrated at how close the two of you had finally been to taking your relationship to another level, only to be stopped short by unforeseen circumstances. That frustration paled in comparison to how terrible Din felt at the thought of how personally you might have taken the interaction. 

He had tried to make it clear that his reason for backing away was not because he didn’t want you or was not attracted to you. Din knew that if you knew some of the ways he thought about you, you would never think such a thing. It broke his heart to think that you may have ever considered such a terrible thing to be true, when in reality, he wanted you more than anything.

Din ran, in part, because seeing the image of a version of himself staring back at him – a character that you loved and had passionately defended that day at the convention – freaked him out due to its looming presence over your bed. He also ran because seeing that poster was a stark reminder of the secret he was hiding from you. Din realised that he could not in good conscience take things any further without first being honest with you about who he really was. 

Lying to you was one thing, a matter he still bitterly regretted but actually falling into bed with you without having first had the guts to tell you the truth about the secret he had been keeping from you? Well, that would feel, to Din, like a betrayal of you. So, despite how much Din had ached to stay and allow himself to fall in bed with you, the pang of terror that he felt as the steely, unrelenting gaze of his own T-visor stared back at him had sent him running for the hills.

Try as he might to push it from his mind and distract himself with filming and taking care of Grogu, thoughts of that night and his near-betrayal of you continued to feature prominently in Din’s mind, even when he was on set. Between takes, he would think of how he was going to cut himself free from the tangle of lies he had weaved for himself.

Every scenario that he ran through in his mind of how to move forward seemed to have some downside. There was to be no way out of this particular predicament. A real bind, in every sense. 

Din was in an incredibly difficult position. Albeit one that he had only himself to blame for putting himself in. He knew at the time that pursuing something with you, even after he knew how big of a fan of Mando you were, was probably not the smartest idea. Yet, not having you in his life was unthinkable. You had bowled him over with your attentiveness, your intelligence and your kindness towards Grogu. Just being yourself had caused the ordinarily stoic and composed man, a trained warrior, to lose all rational thought. His Sunflower, his beautiful Sunflower, had brought so much vibrancy to his life. 

It was better to tell you the truth before you figured it out yourself. Din knew that if he left it too long and you figured out who he was before he had told you, it might hurt you. He had already had more than enough close shaves. There had been a couple of occasions when things had gotten too close for comfort for Din’s liking, especially for a man who always liked to be in control.

It wasn’t just the envelope that had brought you dangerously close to uncovering the truth that night in the hotel. There was the other moment when the two of you were splashing around in the hot tub. He remembered how you had insisted that he reminded you of Mando. It was more of a comparison to his physical attributes, rather than any concrete theories. But still, Din had panicked, frantically wondering whether the bottle of champagne that had been delivered in Jim’s name had made something click for you. He tried his best to maintain an air of calmness outwardly, while inside, Din was frantic that you hadn’t been in an entirely drunken stupor when he explained the name away. 

Mercifully, the following morning when you woke up, Din discovered that you had been so out of it that you hadn’t even remembered whether you had slept together and had been utterly convinced that you had gone to the spa. If you couldn’t remember those two things, there was no way you remembered the envelope or the comments you made to him in the hot tub. It had been too close for comfort, but you had not brought it up on subsequent dates and it seemed that it was long out of your mind.

Din wondered if these close calls, the way you had unknowingly come close to uncovering the truth, had perhaps been a sign that he needed to be honest with you. He considered how, if your hands had roamed just a little lower than merely his stomach when the two of you were kissing in your bedroom, things would have passed a point of no return. Din wanted you so badly that he was sure that even having seen the poster, he would have been left with no choice but to stay with you. To finally get close to you and feel your body against his, without any barriers. Just the two of you, finally becoming one. 

Perhaps it was for the best then, that he had spied the poster when he did. That there was possibly a hint of hesitancy in your ministrations which had bought him some time. Instead of focusing on his frustration, Din wondered whether he should be grateful that events had played out the way that they had. He would never be grateful that he had pushed you away and upset you, of course. But perhaps this was the wake up call he needed, an opportunity he should seize as now, he had no choice but to address his bizarre behaviour. 

But every time he imagined himself telling you the truth, Din felt himself trembling with nerves, in stark contrast to his usual stoic nature. He wondered how he would ever get the words out, how to even begin to tell you the truth. It was such a ridiculous, unimaginable predicament that someone as ordinarily calculating and meticulous as Din had gotten himself into. 

It didn’t help that he could not shake you from his mind, either. 

No matter how hard he tried, visions of your face would not stop flickering through his mind. Even when he was not with you, Din longed for your presence, to feel you close to him. To press more kisses against your soft lips and traverse your soft skin with his hands. He could not stop thinking about you, no matter how hard he tried. Not when he was on set, or alone at home with Grogu, or lying awake at night. You were all that was on his mind.

✯✯✯

Somehow, despite how distracted Din had been, he had successfully made it through another week of filming The Mandalorian without another disastrous day like the one he had after encountering you at the museum when he had been sent for an early lunch. Well, almost made it through. It was Friday lunchtime on set and Din found himself sitting alone in his trailer with only his racing thoughts for company. The silence gave him an opportunity to quietly contemplate his next move. It was a warm summer's day, so Iggy had taken Grogu to a local park to get some fresh air so the little boy wasn’t cooped up in the studio all day. In his absence, Din felt his emotions all the more strongly, with no one there to distract him from fretting about how he was ever going to tell you the truth. 

At the peak of his despondency, there was a knock at the door. Din placed his helmet atop his head and padded across the room, and discovered a certain eccentric, curly-haired co-star at the door. 

“Heard Grogu wasn’t around, figured you might want some company,” Peli offered as she marched across the room and took a seat on the plush sofa. 

“Thanks, Peli,” Din nodded, before taking a seat next to her. He sighed. Din was grateful for her presence, the distraction she would provide from his anguish, but he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

“You seem a little stressed,” Peli noted.

Din shrugged. He wasn’t always the most skilled at talking about his feelings, especially not with someone who could be as abrasive as Peli.

“How are things going with your girl, Mando?” Peli asked. If Din had been able to drink the coffee that he had been sipping before Peli had entered the room in her presence instead of needing to hide his face behind a helmet after she entered, he was sure he would have spat it all over her.

“I… uh, fine,” Din stuttered.

“You don’t sound so sure,” Peli said, raising an eyebrow.

“No, things are great. She’s great. Fantastic, intelligent, beautiful. So funny and caring towards Grogu. It’s just… me,” Din sighed. 

“Why? Did something happen?” Peli asked, her voice full of sympathy.

“I haven’t told her the truth, Peli,” Din admitted. “I can’t, I’m too afraid of losing her. But I fear if I don’t soon, I might push her away.”

Din elected to omit the steamier details of just how and why he had ended up in your room, knowing that Peli would never let him live it down otherwise. He could already imagine all the ways she would tease him, so he continued with his retelling of events, minus the salacious details:

“I was at her flat last weekend. We were having a lovely evening but then I saw, in one of the rooms, that she had a poster of me, of Mando. I knew she was a fan but just seeing it, I freaked out,” Din winced at the memory. “I ran away. I feel like I can’t lie to her anymore, but I don’t know how to tell her the truth.”

“Oh, Mando,” Peli said sympathetically, squeezing Din’s arm just underneath his pauldron in an attempt to console him. “It seems as though you’re really in a tough spot.”

The fact that Peli wasn’t laughing or teasing him, somehow made Din feel even worse about the whole thing. At least if Peli had made some teasing remark or joke about it, things would have felt far more normal and less intimidating to Din. Instead, the fact that Peli actually felt bad and was comforting him, was a testament to the seriousness of the situation.

“I know. I don’t know what to do, Peli,” Din admitted. 

“Can you tell her?” Peli asked. “I mean, are you allowed to? Is there anything in your contract that would forbid you from telling other people?”

“No,” Din replied, honestly. “I can tell whoever I want, but others are forbidden from naming me. There are only a handful of people that know my identity.”

“So if you wanted to, right now, you could take your helmet off and show me your face?” Peli said, clearly stunned at the information.

“I could,” Din confirmed.

“But you’re not going to.”

“No, Peli. I’m not going to,” Din agreed, relieved that the question was hypothetical, that she was not pushing him.

“Well, that’s interesting to note,” Peli said with a smirk and Din found himself relieved that the characteristic teasing tone he was so used to was back. “No, seriously, Mando. I think you just have to come out with it and tell her the truth. Does she talk about the show a lot? I mean, does she talk about it enough that after telling her the truth, you would feel like she was only staying with you because she’s a fan of the show and not because she likes you as a person?”

“No, not at all. Our connection goes deeper than all of this,” Din said, gesticulating towards his armour. “She mentioned Mando once when she was wasted. She said that I seemed as nice and kind as him and something about how I had broad shoulders. Which I suppose are all compliments. And I didn’t realise that people paid any attention to my shoulders.”

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Peli nodded, her eyes glazing over slightly as she agreed. “I mean the suit! The suit just makes you look broad!”

Din smirked behind the helmet and shook his head at the kooky woman before him. Peli could be ridiculous sometimes. Din always felt as though she was an older relative, always keen to look out for him. Until sometimes, when she would make comments which led Din to believe that she possibly had a crush on him. Theirs was a confusing dynamic, but ultimately Din knew how deeply they both cared for each other.��

“Anyway, Mando. I think you have to tell her before things get any more serious between the two of you. If you wait, she might feel as though you lied to her. Maybe she’d even resent you, after finding out the truth. I don’t think there’s any way around it. Being The Mandalorian is such a big part of your life, I can’t imagine you hiding that from anyone. I mean, have you considered the fact that you will probably leave the country soon, after filming finishes?”

“No. I hadn’t even thought of us leaving. Um, I was considering sticking around since Grogu seems to love it here so much. It’s quiet and peaceful. I was thinking Grogu and I could build a life together here, with her.”

“Awwww, Mando. Look at you, settling down, putting down roots!” Peli teased.

Din huffed a laugh from underneath his helmet, but truthfully Peli’s words terrified him. Could he ever truly stay in one place and allow anyone to occupy his heart entirely? Din knew that if anyone was going to convince him to finally make a home somewhere, it was going to be you.

That thought should have excited him, thrilled him as he imagined your future together. But as he went about the rest of his day and finished filming, all he could think about was the terror of losing you forever when he finally told you the truth. Lying about the name on the envelope, deflecting questions about his job, while you ranted about yours. Would you ever forgive him?

Seeing Grogu after he arrived home did not even help his anguished soul, either. Even as he played with his son that night, visions of your face contorting in pain and rage as you discovered the truth about his identity played in his mind, over and over.

Despite understanding that telling you the truth was the best course of action, Din was still absolutely terrified. After putting Grogu to bed, he sat on the couch and texted you, laughing at the humour that shone through in your every word as you caught him up on your week. With each string of letters and message received, your words unknowingly only added to Din’s anguish. The feeling that he continued to live a lie was never far from his mind. His guilt for starting something with you when he knew that he was hiding a secret that would surely change everything loomed over him. 

Din knew that he had to tell you the truth about who he was. Telling the truth was the right thing to do. A man as honourable as Din valued the truth above all else. He knew that it might cost him everything, but he couldn’t stand to see you hurt if he waited any longer to tell you the truth. Din knew that coming clean could change everything between the two of you. He was aware that you might even hate him after discovering that he had not been entirely transparent with you, but it was a risk he had to take if he was going to secure any kind of future with you. Din knew that healthy relationships could not be built upon lies and deception. At least not without them crumbling eventually.

It wasn’t going to be easy, though.

As he went to bed that night, Din fretted that the next time he laid his head upon his pillow, he would have lost you forever. He feared that you would never speak to him again after he finally came clean and revealed the truth…

✯✯✯

Ding dong.

Din bounded to the door enthusiastically after hearing the doorbell ring, leaving Grogu momentarily unattended in the kitchen. Despite the part of him that was dreading the news that he knew he would have to impart on you, he couldn’t wait to see you. Din had been practically giddy all morning, the thought of finally having you in his house was an electrifying prospect. 

Din hoped that telling you the truth wouldn’t change your relationship in the long run. He supposed that you would probably take some time to process his revelation, and he wouldn’t be able to blame you for that. Din imagined that discovering that the guy you had been dating for a couple of months was secretly the actor from your favourite show would take some time to wrap your head around. For a man usually so meticulous and deliberate with his actions, surprisingly, Din hadn’t thought precisely about how he would tell you. He just hoped that he would slip it into conversation perhaps gradually with some hints that would lead you to hopefully connect the dots without too much intervention from him. 

The first sight of you, after Din opened the door, caused all thoughts of telling you to flee far from his mind. You looked so beautiful, even though you were not dressed for anything more formal than a casual afternoon with Din and his boy. He stood there for a second, transfixed at the way you wore your hair and how your clothes complimented your features perfectly.

“Earth to Din!” You giggled, waving a hand.

“Oh!” Din shook his head, finally realising that he had been standing there wordlessly admiring you. “Come on in, Sunflower.”

Din’s heart swelled as you smiled and stepped over the threshold, gracing his cottage with your presence for the very first time. It only expanded further when you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss. When you finally broke away for air, you leaned your forehead against Din’s and smiled shyly.

“Hi,” you whispered. “Been wanting to do that all week.”

“Me too,” Din smiled, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. “Come on, I’ll show you where we’re having lunch.” 

Din stepped back from your embrace and began walking through the corridor which led to the kitchen, eager to see his son.

“Grogu can’t wait to see you, I made us–” but Din trailed off when he realised he did not hear your footsteps behind him. 

Din smiled at the way you had stopped in the corridor, a look of awe on your face as you glanced out of the old paned window towards the rolling lush green hills that lay just beyond the window. When he had first moved here, Din had found himself just as awestruck as you were. Somewhere along the way, he had forgotten just how beautiful the view was. Life had gotten busier, his schedule more hectic... but thankfully you were here to bring some peace back.

“In under an hour I’ve gone from the sprawl of the city to something as peaceful and scenic as this,” you whispered in amazement. “It’s beautiful.” 

“Not as beautiful as you,” Din breathed as he walked up behind you and placed his strong arms around your waist. He nuzzled into your hair, enjoying your scent and delicately kissed the top of your head.

Din was happy to hold you in that embrace for a few minutes, holding you closely and tightly as if he were scared that you were going to slip away from him somehow. He felt as though you might, given the enormity of what he had yet to tell you. Plus, he wanted to make up for the way he had pushed you away the previous week and underline how attracted he was to you. Din probably could have stayed there all afternoon, holding you close and feeling the calmness and warmth that spread throughout his body whenever you were in his arms. But it seemed that his son had other ideas. Grogu let out a loud babble from the kitchen and Din released your waist, not without one final kiss. 

“I’m afraid that my cooking skills are not quite as good as yours,” Din admitted as the pair of you walked to the kitchen, hand in hand. “So I just made us some sandwiches.”

“Sounds wonderful,” you smiled as you entered the kitchen. “Hi Grogu!” You said cheerfully to the little boy who was sitting patiently in his high chair at the table, clearly eager to commence with the lunch that his father had lovingly made for him.

Din loved the way you greeted Grogu, you spoke to him as though he was a person and not just a cute child. Din knew that somehow, Grogu sensed the world around him on a deeper level than most children of his age did, due to his past. It was something that both broke his heart but made him incredibly proud to be this little boy’s guardian. 

“Those sandwiches look like they were made by someone who loves you very much,” you said, nodding towards Grogu’s plate before smiling at Din.

Din found himself blushing as he realised that you had noticed the way he had prepared Grogu’s food. He had painstakingly cut the crusts off Grogu’s sandwiches and chopped them into triangles. It was just how Grogu preferred them, he couldn’t resist spoiling the little boy and giving him pretty much everything that he wanted. If there was something that made Grogu happy, Din would not hesitate to accommodate him.

✯✯✯

After lunch had been eaten, Din was about to suggest going for a walk. He thought that he could perhaps use the stunning scenery to his advantage, to distract you from the wrath that you would no doubt wish to reign down upon him after you discovered the information that he had been hiding from you. But you were first to speak, and your words struck terror into Din’s heart.

“You know, it’s funny because I thought I recognised the name of this village for some reason, and when we drove over here, the driver was telling me that there are some film studios here,” you babbled excitedly. “He told me that this is where they made the original Star Wars movies. I didn’t realise how close it was to where you live, Din!” 

Din was frozen by your comment, utterly blindsided by your words. Was that a hint, a question? Was it wrong that he desperately hoped it was? At least he wouldn’t have to begin the conversation himself, then. Plus, Peli had suggested that he take a run-up to the reveal by perhaps first telling you that he worked on the show and then eventually saying that he was in fact The Mandalorian. Din knew that this would be the perfect chance to slip it in, tell you that yes, he did work at the studios and what was more, he worked on your favourite show. Instead, Din felt himself frozen, paralysed by fear. Despite the moment which had fallen into his lip, he could not seize the opportunity.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, looking down in embarrassment. “I forgot you don’t like Star Wars.”

Din breathed a tremendous sigh of relief, the moment had passed, without him even needing to intervene.

“It’s fine, Sunflower,” Din smiled. “I never realised just how close it was,” Din shrugged, busying himself with clearing the plates.

It was another lie. They were almost becoming too easy now, too habitual. If you weren’t currently speaking to Grogu and making the little boy roar with laughter, perhaps Din’s mind would have been spiralling and berating himself for his lies. Instead, he was smiling back at the interaction as he tidied the mess from your lunch away and thinking just how perfectly you had already fitted into life in his cottage…

✯✯✯

Din felt the comforting weight of Grogu in his baby carrier, nestled against his chest as the three of you strolled through the stunning countryside. It was a presence that Din attempted to ground himself with, to draw strength from as he thought about beginning to tell you the truth. The words ran through his mind, over and over. But he could not bring himself to vocalise them, to begin telling you the truth. Din peered down at Grogu’s curly hair, feeling his heart constrict when he thought of all his son had been through in his young life. The child had seemed happiest here, in this location, out of the numerous places they had lived together. Not only that, but Grogu had seemed at his happiest with you. How could Din ever bring that crashing down for him?

As you strolled up a hill towards a particularly stunning view that Din enjoyed hiking up to whenever he had a day off, Din considered that now would be the perfect opportunity to just come clean to you and inform you that he was in fact, the man behind your favourite TV show. Something was stopping him each time. It was the way you looked, your complexion glowing against the landscape. It was the way you felt, your soft hand in his, fingers laced tightly together. It was how you made him feel, the warm presence in his chest whenever you were near. No matter how hard Din tried to visualise him saying those words and finally vocalising the rough script that had been turning over in his mind over and over… Din just could not do it. He was utterly terrified of losing you, of ruining this thing that had become so precious and had been just what you both needed. To ruin that, to potentially cause himself and Grogu to lose you, it was unthinkable.

So he stayed quiet. Din realised he was doing something he utterly despised: being a coward. But he rationalised his decision as he looked down at his son, realising how calm and serene Grogu was at this moment. There was no way Din could contemplate sacrificing his son’s happiness.

Din’s silence caused his heart to flutter with anxiety when the two of you approached the crest of the hill and the grey buildings came into view. Once again, he had inadvertently put himself in a position where Din and Mando’s worlds were coming dangerously close to colliding.

Din regretted his decision to suggest this particular route almost as soon as the three of you made it to the crest of a fairly sizable hill about half a mile from his house. His regret did not come due to the grey clouds that had suddenly rolled in across the horizon. It came because he realised, far too late, that his place of work was on full display from up here. The grey buildings that comprised The Volume were visible, even behind the tall ferns that had been planted to try and obstruct the views. Din knew that since you were such a big fan of the show, you likely knew full well that it was not only the original Star Wars movies which had been shot here, but The Mandalorian too. Inviting you to his home had been a risk for numerous reasons, but this walk had been downright reckless. 

Din glanced over at you, wondering if you had connected the dots. He found your expression impossible to read, but probably one of awe due to your surroundings rather than realising the significance of the buildings. If you had realised their significance, however, you had not vocalised it to him. Din hoped, as you stood there appreciating the view that you were too busy focusing on the rolling hills and lush greenery to realise the importance of the buildings before you.

Mercifully, the climate of Din’s temporary home country was here to bail him out. It was early August, but that did not stop the typical English weather from being as unpredictable as ever. The grey clouds that had rolled in suddenly looked more ominous than they had when the three of you had first reached the crest of the hill. Din noticed that the air was suddenly incredibly peaceful and still. 

But not for long. 

The heavens opened, and thick raindrops were suddenly pelting the three of you. Grogu let out a squeal as his father moved to place a hood over his unruly curly hair. Din looked around, fearful that you would be cold and upset that your walk had been ruined. But instead of finding you despondent or enraged, Din was relieved to see the enormous grin that had swept over your features. As the pair of you began to take in your predicament – stranded on top of a hill with a toddler in tow as a storm swept in – Din found that he could not do anything except laugh. He was almost bent double, hands on his knees as he dissolved into fits of giggles. Din had not been this carefree, he had not laughed this much for a long time. But, here, with you… in this stupid situation that would have probably completely freaked him out if he was here with anyone else on earth… he could do nothing more than laugh. It was a freeing, welcome experience and he soon found that his cheeks ached after all the laughter.

“There’s a tree over there, should we shelter underneath it?” Your suggestion finally snapped him out of his glee. The idea of waiting out the storm underneath a tree seemed palatable at first, but Din soon realised that this might be a storm of such veracity to include lightning. After all, the rumbles of thunder had been the last sounds before the heavens had opened.

“What if there’s a bolt of lightning?” Din replied, having to shout slightly over the noise of the rain. He suddenly realised that despite the time he had spent outdoors in his life, he did not comprehend storms as well as he should have. The English countryside was rather unfamiliar terrain to him, after all. 

“Good point,” you agreed. 

Din looked at you quizzically as you reached out to take his hand in yours. Although the two of you had walked up the hill, hand in hand, he had dropped it in all the commotion of putting the hood on Grogu and making sure his son was okay. The rain was pelting down with a vengeance now, hard enough that Din was momentarily concerned that it was going to leave bruises. He was just about to open his mouth to ask you why you had taken his hand, when, without warning… you started running down the hill. Din almost found himself knocked off his feet, fortunately, his reflexes meant that your actions did not send Din and Grogu tumbling down in a muddy heap.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline of running hand in hand with you, or the distinct giddiness that rain has a unique ability to cause, but Din could not stop laughing the entire way home. Even as your pace slowed once you did not have the slope of the hill to assist your journey home, he was still breathless with laughter. The rain slowed somewhat as the three of you made it to the village, and had almost stopped when Din’s cottage finally came into view. Din was soaked to the bone and fretted as your teeth began chattering as you walked up the path.

“The heating should be on,” Din offered as he pushed the old wooden door open.

“Excellent!” You squealed, making a beeline for the radiator. “I’m staying right here!” You sighed, clinging to the radiator for dear life.

“Alright, I’m just going to bathe Grogu and then put him down for a nap,” Din explained.

“Okay, see you later Grogu,” you smiled. “And well done for being so brave.”

Din grinned as he ascended the stairs, his heart soaring at your words. Some people may not have even picked up on how scary a storm could be for a child as sensitive to Grogu… but you were different. You stunned Din with the depths of your capacity for love with every interaction.

✯✯✯

When Grogu was bathed, dried and settled for his nap, Din descended the stairs. A smirk appeared over his features when he realised that you were still in the same position. His smirk dropped as soon as he realised that you were wearing significantly fewer clothes than he remembered.

“Sorry, I had to take my shirt and jeans off,” you shrugged. “Couldn’t bear the feeling of wet clothes.

“It’s fine, Sunflower,” Din nodded, but his brain was struggling to comprehend the sight before him. Of you, topless, in his house.

“Din?!” You exclaimed, Din snapped his head to look at you, not realising that he had been ignoring you. “I said, is it okay if I take a shower?”

“Oh! Right, sorry of course you can. I’ll get you a spare pair of pyjamas.” Din said, mouth slightly ajar as he regarded you in just your underwear. He had seen you in only a swimsuit that night in the hotel, of course, but that had been a few weeks ago. And you had been wasted. Ogling you then had felt like he was taking advantage of you… but now you seemed to know full well what you were doing. Your shy smile indicated exactly that you knew the impact you were having on his body. 

That night in the flat, when you had been about to finally fall into bed together until the poster that hung above your bed had stopped him in his tracks, was a distant memory. Din had cursed that poster endlessly since that fateful day, now perhaps he would curse it no more. Every day since then, he yearned to touch you, to taste you. Every time he had gotten himself off quickly in the shower when his thoughts had become too much to bear any longer, it was you who he imagined as he pumped his length with his fist. Your mouth around his throbbing cock, so soft, so warm…

“Hello! Din!” You said, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Uh, shit. I’m sorry.” Din said, absolutely mortified that you had caught his mind wandering again.

“I was just asking you to show me where the bathroom is, so I can take a shower. My eyes are up here, mister,” you added, with a flirtatious smirk.

“Sorry, yes, of course,” Din quickly recovered and moved in the direction of the stairs.

As he ascended them with you following closely behind, Din took a deep breath in an attempt to steady his racing pulse. He had invited you here to tell you the truth about who he was. Now, thanks to the weather, things had taken a risque turn that he had certainly never intended.

When he reached the bathroom, he pushed the door open and switched the light on. You stepped inside and murmured your thanks.

“Enjoy your shower,” Din breathed and then turned around to leave.

Din jumped as he felt your fingers close around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. You pulled him back towards you and placed your fingers into his curly hair. For a moment, Din wondered if he was going to pass out as you played with the damp dark brown hairs at the nape of his neck. He sighed and gazed at you adoringly. Then, Din groaned as you tilted your head to the side to kiss him, firstly on his mouth and then along his jaw. 

“I didn’t say you couldn’t come with me,” you purred, your hot breath washing over the shell of his ear. Din shuddered with want.

Din nodded and took you by the hand. There was no going back now. No Mandalorian posters to stop you, no revealing secrets to halt this moment in its tracks. Din was already hard, throbbing with the weeks of pent-up desire that being close to you without having the opportunity to act upon it had produced.

Din wanted you, badly. 

As the two of you stood there in the bathroom, Din was vaguely aware that he didn’t want the first time he had you to be in the shower. He wanted to take you to bed, worship you with his lips and tongue, show you how special you were to him, how much you had changed his life. Din wasn’t sure that pushing you up against the tiles of his bathroom as the hot jets of his shower cascaded over your naked bodies was quite what he had envisioned for your first time together. Then again, there were many ways that you had taken Din by surprise throughout your relationship. The more he considered it, the more desperate your moans got as he continued the steamy makeout session in his bathroom with you, the more Din was certainly coming around to the idea.

When you reached around your back to peel your wet bra off your body, all protestations had left Din’s mind. You were so perfect, so beautiful, you clearly wanted him so badly given how your cheeks were flushed, your lips parted and your eyes darkened in desire as you gazed at him through your eyelashes. How could he deny you what you wanted?

“You’re beautiful,” Din rasped as he gathered you in his strong arms, bringing his lips to your neck and kissing a trail down towards your chest.

“Let’s get in the shower,” you panted. Din was pleased that you had somehow maintained enough brain cells to remind him of why you were in here in the first place. Neither of you particularly needed any warming up anymore, but there was a feeling of griminess that lingered after being caught in the rain like that.

As Din stripped out of his remaining clothes, discarding them alongside your soaked underwear in a heap on the floor that he would deal with later, he almost tripped in his haste to climb in the shower alongside you. Knowing that you were waiting for him, naked, and how badly you wanted him was enough to almost make him lose coordination in his desperation. Din could hardly believe this was happening, this was real. Although at the time he had cursed the English weather for being so unpredictable, it seemed now that it would be a blessing in disguise. You had ended up exactly where he had fantasised about you. Except this time, Din wouldn’t be stroking himself as he moaned your name desperately into an empty bathroom. This time, you would be moaning his name as you finally came together as one.

Din entered the shower and practically moaned at the sight of your naked form under the water. He grinned at the sight of you waiting for him, a perfect vision…

✯✯✯

Din’s breath hitched in his throat as he walked into Grogu’s bedroom and saw the sight before him. After the shower the two of you shared – which had devoted far more time to pleasure than actually cleaning off, but it had suitably achieved its initial goal of warming both of you up – Din had given you a pair of his pyjamas to change into while he went to make a hot drink. The sight of you wearing his old maroon flannel pyjamas had sent a bolt of desire coursing through him that almost sent him stripping you straight back out of them.  A task he would have relished, were it not for Grogu’s mewling over the baby monitor. Din had looked at you apologetically, but you had waved away his concerns and instantly gone to assist his son.

When he returned holding the steaming mugs, he saw you sprawled out on your stomach on the floor of Grogu’s bedroom, playing dinosaurs with him. It was a scene so shockingly domestic that it set every single one of Din’s nerve endings alight. You were being so attentive to Grogu, playing with him as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Grogu was giggling and clapping his chubby hands together. Din knew that he had had every intention of telling the truth, but it seemed as though the threat of missing out on moments like this was too great a risk to contemplate. Din set the mugs down and stood back to continue observing the scene before him.

“Thanks,” you smiled, before returning your attention to the boy.

“Come on Grogu, let’s play with this,” you said, leading Grogu to the corner of the room where a small wooden train set lay once he had become uninterested in the dinosaurs.

Observing you there with Grogu, Din felt as though the pieces of his life had finally fallen into place. Everything was too perfect. The hours Din had lay awake, worrying whether he was doing the right thing for Grogu by introducing you into their lives seemed like a distant memory now. Now, in you, Grogu had finally found someone he was comfortable with and happy with.

Din loved watching the two of you play together, swallowing a lump in his throat each time little giggles filled the room. That boy had been through too much in his life. To see him so happy was a miracle. Din knew that he couldn’t do anything to jeopardise that. If he told you the truth, he would potentially lose you and the love you had for Grogu, leaving their lives all the poorer for it. He would lose the love he hoped you already had, or would one day have for him, too. 

Din had lost his nerve. He should have been disgusted by himself, for cowardice was not the Mandalorian way. Family was, however, an integral part of being Mandalorian. Din knew that he had taken this decision for the good of his family, so he reasoned that he should not be too harsh on himself. The time for processing the decision he had made could come later, for now, it was time to appreciate your presence.

Din grabbed a brightly coloured wooden carriage and sat cross-legged on the fluffy carpet, smiling at the way the two of you seemed so thrilled he had joined in the game you were playing. The way you had fitted in with his home, as though you had always been here, it was difficult to believe that it had just been him and Grogu for so long.

As he pushed the wooden trains around with you and Grogu, Din almost dared to dream that the three of you were becoming a family.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @toxic-seduction @survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing

[kisaraslover]

DO U HAVE ANY BLUESHIPPING FIC REC?????PLEASENIMSTARVINGKSKSKKS

anon kskkasak ITS FINE ILL SAVE YOU OK? here goes:

Scenes from a Kaiba Marriage and Temptation by my blueshipping queen @kisara-kaiba as the opening. the peak of modern life blueshipping fluff, very lovesick, when im reading them its heart full, head empty. youre gonna be lucky to start them now cuz ill be rereading and drawing scenes from them this week👀. itll be like premium fanfic reading.

Enjambment -> this fic might be the single best written blueshipping fic by the virtue of MIRRORING their encounter in ancient Egypt beat by beat, including BOTH of their character arcs and the netflix show vibe of suspense and the sharp, cold and bleak setting is chefs kiss. changed my brain chemistry. still one of my favorite portrayals of Kisara.

Maiden with Eyes of Blue -> Sometimes time needs to slow down and a single scene should be a character study/ hashing out of things you needed acknowledged by canon, the situation is ESPECIALLY dire for Seto Kaiba as ive made my feelings on his writing known many times. This is it. Kisara isnt reincarnated in this one though, but her love for him can be felt in the air. Ngl you could just incorporate this into post canon and it would be fine. canon compliant+ canon enriching.

Shades of Water, Ice, and Sky -> I'm skimming through each fic to see what they were about and i just gotta say: why so heart-wrenching if so short?? theyre in love your honor.

Their Promise: Book I -> ok gonna be honest w you i havent finished this one and the main reason is that i cant go past the SPECTACULAR first chapter. ive started and failed to draw it in its entirety. i open it, i chew on the first chapter like a rabid dog, i close it more often than not. the second reason is it has a lot more angst and heartbreak than most blueship fics do and im weak to that sort of thing. still, if we follow their ancient egypt encounter beat by beat, which is a fantastic way of following and enriching the canon, their first meeting needs to be as kids with him saving her from a cage. chefs kiss.

who are you? -> JUST the right amount of Seto Kaiba immediate fixation obsession on Kisara (which means insanely obsessed)

You Will Crave Your Ancient Roots -> this is so good and so heartbreaking man. Seto and Atem are shot back into ancient Egypt and Seto is only able to slightly alter the events around Kisara. hes fated to fall for that woman every single time and *starts sobbing*

Ancient Rules -> all i gotta say is this Seto Kaiba gives me brainworms. hes chuck full of Passion and Cockiness and Insanity. blueshippers sometimes take out his insanity. he is very unsettling here i love it. Kisara is truly at his mercy..

never forget your first dream -> fem!Set and Kisara in ancient Egypt, this story twists more than just Seto's gender. im a yuri seto truther so its great to have written proof of it. jokes aside, very well characterized Set and Kisara, rich writing.

One in Forty -> pretty short but this one fundamentally changed how i viewed Kisara's canon influence over BEWD cards and her constant and unbendable favor around Seto. canon compliant + canon enriching.

ok so these are the cream of the crop for ME personally, might have forgotten some in my other folders, i might have missed reading some, its probably not all encompassing. but frankly ive liked and saved fics for a single resounding line, single funny joke, one interesting implication about the story or the characters the author wrote up so in my heart theyre all worth checking out, always. fanfic writers are carrying this ship on their backs and theyre all 9 ft tall and im just walking around them, clearing the path, giving them a sip of water and snacks etc. so THANK YOU BLUESHIPPING AUTHORS I LOVE YOUUUUUU

[inspector-montoya-fox]

It's always really difficult to choose between An Opera of Fear and A Cold Alliance for my favourite Sly 3 episode, but it's safe to say that Flight of Fancy is easily the most nostalgic. Not because it's rooted in my childhood memories (it is) but in the sense that it shares elements with episodes from Sly 2 during a game which presents the gang at the peak of their career. Let's discuss

I think we can all agree that the series very effectively presents the gang's development, not only as individual characters, but also as a team of thieves. Sly 1 shows the gang as teens during their first set of adventures which sprout from Sly's desire for vengeance. They make many mistakes, they don't really have planned heists or jobs - Sly just casually goes into every level breaking shit and then faces off the big baddie - and they surpass their own expectations of themselves to defeat Clockwerk in the end. Then, Sly 2 covers a crucial point in the gang's career. It felt as if up until this point they hadn't truly fucked up so they went into it being very cocky, especially Sly. And when they got their asses handed to them by Neyla, getting separated tested their individual and collective limits.

In Sly 3, the gang has evolved to master thieves, capable enough to feel comfortable recruiting and as such mentoring strangers and also worthy enough to inherit an entire lineage's stolen loot. This is also shown in the missions, which up in scale and spectacle. It's no longer just "follow this villain" or "pickpocket this person". It's a combination of missions we grew accustomed to during Sly 2 like "follow Octavio and do recon under time pressure", or something completely new. Right off the bat, for example, we send a ferris wheel rolling across Venice squashing guards in its way, like this is just a mission not Thunderbeak or something. Every Sly 3 mission evolves explosions, high-tech and the eventual mini boss-fight.

So it's then a bit surprising to see the gang reverting to their sneakier, more subtle ways during Flight of Fancy. That's not to say we don't have explosions and thrill in the episode (the dogfights, Muggshot vs Carmelita, wolf-riding, shooting literal fucking windmills into blimps), but the way they choose to sabotage the competition due to how delicate its internal politics are creates some nostalgia. Paddling around the sewers in a blow-up rowboat and breaking into the pilots' rooms is very Sly 2. It felt like something 18 year old Sly would do. Also, scaling the Baron's castle harks back to Sly 1's platforming and is reminiscent of how small Sly would seem when approaching a villain's daunting lair.

The design choices for the Netherlands seem primitive too, enhanced by the fact that we're in the countryside. I feel like there's that Sly 1 and 2 rule of thumb at play here, where Sucker Punch chose the aesthetic or genre first and then chose the location. For example, they wanted a spooky level in Sly 2 so they chose Prague which would accommodate the genre through its architecture and gothic character. That allowed them to exaggerate a lot in terms of level design. And it's the same for Flight of Fancy, where we have a spooky castle on top of a very cartoony hill and you can hide under haystacks. Oppositely, the rest of the game's levels seem to have departed from the previous entries' design principle (except Kaine Island, which is fully fictional). It feels as if SP chose Venice and wanted to play up how European it is, or the wilderness of the Australian outback but without any radical stylistic choices. The genres are explored through the narrative, not through design.

Lastly, let's close off with some Thieves in Time slander because it wouldn't be a signature me tumblr essay without it. If we really use the entirety of our brain power and manage to look past all of the game's bullshit, one additional flaw would be how it doesn't consider the gang's development when telling its story. I'm not saying that in the series' fourth game the gang should have been infallible or indestructible due to achieving master thief status in Sly 3, but here the mistakes they make feel so unnecessarily stupid and like shit they wouldn't have done even in Sly 1. Falling for Penelope's schtick twice; Sly letting his guard down during the Le Paradox boss fight after the Contessa; whatever the fuck went down in Arabia... yea.

[thegreatobsesso]

Alright, well, first off: I'm still here. I'm not great. As an American person with empathy, I am very, very not okay. My heart hurts. My body is torn up from the aftershock; muscle aches, cystic acne, trouble sleeping, the whole deal. And I don't really have words for that first week. That, um, fathomless sadness and anger and fear that took art away from me. And I'm under no delusions that it's upward from here. I truly haven't read the news since November 6th, and I know when I do, it's gonna hit again. And in January it's gonna hit again. And nobody can possibly guess how many other times it's gonna just... be terrible. Right? To try and process the damage that can happen in four years is... Well. Right now, I'm in a sort of denial and I'm letting that feeling settle in and take root. The brain can't sustain a crisis state for too long, or, maybe my brain can't, and so when it says let's pretend nothing's wrong, I don't have the heart to deny it.

And when art came back - when I was able to engage with it again without what is even the fucking point overwhelming me to an inevitable stopping point - first I did some writing and then I started this, and it has sustained me for days. Being finished with it is a mixed bag of emotions, because it's basically been saving my life. I set out to do something that would take a long time, knowing I needed it, and boy did it ever.

This is all my point-of-view OCs - Electra (/Callie), Eve (/Riley), Simon, Grace, Octavius and Milo. Yes, it's in my magic school, but Delaney can accommodate a couple of normies. And I asked them how they were all feeling and got a range of responses. Electra just wanted to be casting cool magic, Octavius was interested in watching the show, Milo decided to play a tabletop game with Grace, and Eve finally, finally, allowed Simon to comfort her.

I think this is my most personal piece to date; I needed to create a safe space for my OCs to mirror the kinds of spaces we all need to create with the people we love right now. Accepting a wide range of reactions from blissful, hopepunk awakenings to funereal sorrow. This is the epitome of making the art I needed to exist, and it's given my mind a place to go that's not despair, and that means something.

[azaharinflames]

You don't think red and orange are compatible?

You look at sunsets and think uh?

Also are Buck and Eddie too similar?? You don't have to ship them obviously, but that seems like a weird interpretation of the characters

Plus in romcoms etc they often have characters dressed in the same / similar colours to show that they are compatible. That's like. Costume design 101

Here is the thing: I, truly, truly, do not think it's that deep. The costume or set department was not thinking that deep into party hats, of all things.

But, let's briefly talk about it.

I think there is a small misconception here. Two colors being complementary colors does not mean that colors that aren't don't go together.

By definition, complementary colors are those that are direct opposites on a color wheel, and if you mix them, you make a balanced mixture. That is red and blue, and could be applied to red and black, even.

Now - orange and red. They cannot be complimentary colors, simply because they are not opposites. By definition, red and orange are analogous colors, which are groups of colors next to each other in the color wheel. Red and orange belong to the same analogous color scheme.

Hence, I do not look at a sunset and think - uh? Because complementary = opposites. And red and orange are very much not that.

Also, a small clarification: I do not think Buck and Eddie are similar personality-wise, and you're right that it came across as a weird interpretation. I fully blame my sleep-deprived brain for not taking the time to fully explain what I meant by that.

I think, and this is very much my opinion (therefore, everyone is free to disagree) that Buck and Eddie are so attuned to one another that oftentimes they tend to think alike, or see things in a very similar way. Again, you have it in 706, when Eddie enables Buck and lets him go wild - am I saying this is a bad thing? Not necessarily. I am saying that, to me, that speaks of very best-friend behavior, and not romantic. And that, to me, a couple is more interesting when it is a bit more balanced. I used to ship Buddie (still root for their platonic bond, I in no way want them to stop with it), and I read a lot of meta on them back when I did, which is when I started to see some similarities between them.

Also, and this is a small note because I am no expert in costume design other than a few essays and videos here, and there- I honestly see more complimentary colors than the same color on both people. Maybe different shades sometimes, but not the same color.

At the end of the day, it's a silly wee woo show, and I don't think the party hats have any hidden message to them.

[blingusdlingus]

The Start of the Post-Modern Sonic Era

As time passes... Sonic Frontiers feels unreal to me. I still feel the psychic ripples that game made in the minds of thousands. Hearing about the physics nonstop. the buzzwords echoed in my brain for months... the rips at the English script-writing. It drove me to near madness. It was hard talking to people who weren't as deep in it as I was at that time... But I look back these days and I can't help but feel like the madness was exactly what I wanted. I can't make peace with this game like many others have, but I can't hate this game, I can't act like I'm indifferent to it. It did something to me that I can't dissect into a science. I don't feel like it's fair to try and categorize the feelings I have about it's writing into the set of ideals I've made for what I want these characters to be. I can't rule this one out... it broke the stagnant mold for me. An "Open-Zone" Sonic game with hyper-realistic environments, patch-worked with floating platforms and rails in the sky, janky camera movements and overtly flashy attacks for an unbalanced combat system, reused level design for one minute stages, hamfisted self-referential dialogue that had me groaning at points, a narrative that felt spread thin and disjointed, answering questions that didn't need answering. And it didn't even have Momentum. And yet... it is everything to me. AND NOW FOR THE CHILDHOOD HISTORY OF BLINGUS For the 20 years I've been alive, about 18 of those years I have spent with this deeply rooted attachment to Sonic. I was deeply fortunate as my cousin and my half-brother both had a Genesis with each of their own collection of games respectively, which of course, meant a lot of Sonic games. I was also gifted with having two brothers, who I dubbed as "the one with the GameCube" and "the one with the PS2". From age 2 (2006) to age 6 (2010), I had already created formative memories with the following: Sonic 1 Sonic 2 Sonic Underground Sonic 3D Blast Sonic Rush Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood Sonic Spinball Dr. Robotnik's Mean Bean Machine Sonic Heroes Sonic CD Sonic Adventure DX Sonic X Shadow The Hedgehog Sonic Rush Adventure Sonic Riders Sonic Unleashed Sonic Colors

These aren't even counting the games and shows I had learnt of online as a child who ABSOLUTELY shouldn't of been on the internet at such a young age but I digress. I just want to highlight the sheer amount of Sonic I took in in that time-frame. I think this chapter in my life planted the ideals that I hold to this very day, even throughout the madness. The problem is that... I don't even truly know what those ideals are. As I've grown I've played these games countless times, along with every game coming out after. I read the comics, I watched the shows, I got invested into the rom-hacking scene, and from there, the Fangame scene. My life changed and grew and my opinions of these games have shifted time and time and time again. Those roots never grew dry for me though, and I feel as if I owe my young self a lot for making memories with these games. Maybe it's a fear of losing innocence? It could be because I'm autistic as fuck? Maybe it's just love. Love for what these games represent for me, Love for what could've been. Loving it for what it is, what it was, loving it because people made it and that's all that matters. Loving to draw it, to find why others love it, and to open my mind to interpretation. Loving it to hate it, to write about it and talk to your friend's about it. To find out what made it tick, what's been lost over the years and how it's found again. Loving it because Super Sonic is raw as fuck and Shadow likes nu-metal hell yeah Oh yeah this was about Sonic Frontiers Well okay yeah the game is kinda mid but It's raw as hell and it's representation of growth and change is as prevalent in the narrative as it is in the eyes of the people. It made a ripple. Did Sonic Lost World make a ripple? Yes it did you fucking asshole

[tiny-minecraft-rabbit]

The Little Post Rat

Gift for @baconlamb for the 2024 @mcytblrholidayexchange

This is my very first age regression fic, something I've wanted to write for a while and am so glad I got the opportunity to do so!

Word Count: 1.5k Characters: Age Regressor Watermunch and Caregiver Martyn Inthelittlewood AO3 Link Here

Being a post rat meant being on the move. It meant traveling from place to place. It meant being quick and nimble and never being in the same place for long, as there was always someone waiting to get their mail. 

That being said, this was the first time in a long time that Watermunch had stayed in a single place for so long.

She had never set up a postal network before, but Le Terrière had seemed as good a place to start as any. There were plenty of rats here, and they had lots of things to say. Establishing a local system and beginning on deliveries was easy, she had made a few on the very first day. After that she built an office and planted roots within days. However, the rats that were as passionate about delivering mail as she was were far and few between; so actually recruiting to help expand the post office was much harder. Her plans to connect the hotel’s Rattic to the greater world of post were put to a standstill. 

She found that she didn’t mind too much. Getting to stand still for a while was nice. It left time for other things. It left time to relax and be herself. 

Water laid out a nice big blanket on her floor, already feeling herself slipping as she set out the small number of toys she had. She only had what she could fit in her post bag, which wasn't a lot. Mostly it consisted of her childhood plush doll—a sweet little rat-girl with a cotton dress—and colored pencils that were usually used for making notes and writing letters. She also set out snacks, slices of baguettes and cubes of cheddar. It was probably a bit filling when she hadn’t had lunch yet, but who was she to deny herself bread and cheese. 

Once everything was set out she plopped herself down and started to color. 

It did not take long her for drawings to slip from her usual style to something much more childish. She was drawing herself and the others around the attic. She made Eloise and Bek holding hands and Ratman with his car. They were squiggly and brightly colored, and she smiled to herself as she did. 

At some point her thumb slipped into her mouth and she hummed happily around it . 

This was nice. It had been so long since Water had really been able to be little. While traveling every now and then she would slip and feel the fuzzies in her brain try to take over, but she was never in a stable enough place to really get small. At most she would allow herself some kid snacks and a bit of doodling. She hadn’t been truly regressed like this in ages. 

She pulled her doll close, pointing to her newest picture to show her, “Look Ms. Fluffybottom, that’s Sniff and Scott. See, 'cause she is wear-wing a green sweater and Scott has all the colors on him.” 

Ms. Fluffybottom didn’t say anything in return, but Water could tell she was very impressed. 

She was starting to get bored; there was only so much coloring a little rat could do before they got tired of it. She poked around her office, quickly finding the scissors and glue. Now, this was a proper activity! She colored a nice big drawing of a rat and cut them out (going extra slow so she didn’t accidentally snip something wrong). Then she got started on making the rat outfits on a separate piece of paper. She was having trouble getting the size right, but she wasn’t going to give up easily. 

Then, there was a knock on the door. 

She froze, staring at the door with wide eyes. The only times someone had bothered knocking on her door was when she was staying at different hotels between deliveries. She could wait for some hotel staff to go away, but she doesn’t think she could wait for someone from the attic to just go away. A lot of them were her friends and the rest were a curious bunch of rats. 

It made a part of her want to come out of little space and deal with the rat at the door like an adult. 

Honestly, she tried, willing herself to be big and think adult thoughts; but as she stood up and felt herself toddle on shaky feet, she knew it wasn’t happening. 

She must have taken too long, as she was only halfway across the floor when another knock rang out. “Hey, Munch! You in there?” 

Martyn. 

Water was even less sure about opening the door now—while Martyn was one of the more fun rats in the attic, he was also one of the meaner ones. There was no telling what his reaction to her would be. He might make fun of her!

She could just ignore him, he’d leave eventually, probably– or he’d break in. Martyn was also known for not always following rules, like how you were supposed to be invited into homes, not just enter them whenever. 

“I’m com’ing,” She exclaimed. She took the last few feet to the door in big steps, so it wasn’t as far away. 

Martyn smiled down at her as he leaned on the doorframe, “There's my favorite Post Rat. What are we up to today?” 

Water smiled back, a bit bashful, “I’m… colo’ing.” 

“Coloring, huh? Is that an important activity or did you want to join me for a food run?”

Her eyes widened and she quickly shook her head. Leaving the attic was scary! There were humans down in the hotel; and cats! She didn’t want to go down there now . “Not- Not today. So’m other time?” 

Martyn tilted his head, “That’s no problem; but is something up? Need someone to talk to?” 

“No- No. Just w’eally want to col-wor,” She insisted, looking back at her blanket and Ms. Fluffybottom. 

He hummed and took a step into her office. She let him, her hands firmly gripping the bottom of her shirt as he finally caught sight of her little set up. She was so worried for a moment, that he was going to find it weird or silly. All her things were laid out for him to see.

“Well, that looks fun, doesn’t it. Mind if I join you, then?” he asked, surprising her. 

Water hesitated. She had never had company before! Having someone come and play with her had never been an option before, and even if it had, she doesn’t think Martyn would have been her first pick. But, looking up at Martyn, there was a wobble to his smile. He seemed like he needed some fun just as much as she did.  

“You… you can’t make fun o’ me, aw’ight? We’ just gonna sit and col-wor,” she replied, giving him a pointed glare.

“Cross my heart,” Martyn promised. He seemed sincere enough to her. 

With that Water took his hand and dragged him over to her blanket. Martyn was quick to take up a colored pencil and start his own doodles. She pulled out another piece of paper and started a new drawing: she was delivering mail to the Queen-Rat herself in England! 

Soon after she went back to trying to make outfits for her paper doll. They were still coming out wonky in size. Martyn noticed and offered to help cut them out. Water watched him with wide and curious eyes as he traced her doll on a clean sheet of paper and told her to fill in the outline with whatever pattern she wanted. When she finished, he cut it out for her, much faster than she could have. 

She squealed with delight as the stripey dress and postman jacket fit perfectly on the paper doll this time. She hugged him, thanking him for it. 

When she glanced over at Martyn’s drawing, she was delighted to see he had drawn a pirate ship with himself and Ren on it. Ren even had his signature red coat and a cool pin sword. Martyn had a spy glass. He was really good at drawing. 

She decided to tell him as much; “Yours is w’eally cool. I w’ike the ship.”

“Thanks, Munchy. Yours is pretty good yourself,” he replied, pointing at hers, “We going to hang these up somewhere then?” 

Water’s eyes widened. “Can we?” 

Sure, she always could have hung her drawings, but it seemed silly to do it herself. Martyn was offering to hang them– he thought they were good enough to hang up! She very much wanted to see her art up on the wall.

“Sure, we can!” he answered and delicately scooped up her drawing. He didn’t take long to find some old sealing wax in her office. It was the cheap kind, and he was able to warm it in his hands until it was just tacky enough to stick the pictures to the wall with. 

He placed his and hers right next to each other.

[derekscorner]

Fated Rantings: The Grandest of Orders Part 2

The Babylonia Front

For the first part I incoherently rambled about FGO and some Chaldean cast. There was no rhyme nor reason to it, I was trying to get my brain churning but more importantly they were things that I've wanted to say for a while.

I began this Fate journey with lore videos and FGO and for the near two years since I've slowly crawled through it as I watched other Fate series. I finished the initial Solomon arc about a month before I did the anime.

In other words I had lot to get out of my system and I didn't even touch on everything. FGO, the mobile game, is novel length in each singularity. There is too much to remember or squeeze into a blog post.

So I just got out of my system what still stands out to me...which was mostly Mash praise but enough of that! Let's talk about the actual anime~

The Age of Gods babyyyyy

I was actually very curious to watch this even though FGO's anime only covers singularities six, seven, and the finale against Goetia. Even then singularity six and Goetia are made into movies.

FGO's only real anime is the adaption of singularity seven the Babylonia Front. My curiosity for this story was only made stronger thanks to the mobile game itself.

It had unexpected highs and spectacle to it. Everything from seeing how Rin's personality can distort Ishtar into a jewel obsessed girl failure to seeing Gilgamesh while he was a live.

A demigod in the flesh, a Gilgamesh that was focused on being a king. Hell, we even got to see Merlin!

Merlin is usually locked in his tower but thanks to time paradox tom foolery he makes an appearance.

This era of Fate's world fascinates me because the gods still exist. Sadly, it's toward the end of their reign but the physical and metaphysical still interconnect.

This the era that the mages of the modern Fate world desperately cling to with their ways of secrecy and lineage. They can only hope to reach the root and obtain true magic, they can only hope to have magecraft as potent as Medea.

It is a truly fantastical setting and the kind I adore. It is probably the closest we'll ever get to seeing a truly magical place within Type-Moon.

The actual expanse that the age of gods covers is also quite long. The only thing I know of older than this age would be dragons. The pinnacle of evolution and mystery and beings that radiate magic just by breathing.

Type-Moons history is actually full of some crazy stuff. Dragons older than the gods who themselves had been shaping life since dinosaurs walked.

Machines from a dead universe whom the Atlanteans worshipped as gods and who eventually became the Olympian gods of Greece.

A white titan that slew gods left and right, the very being that set the age of gods towards its downfall. The same titan that killed Ares, took his sword, and uses it to this very day if summoned as a servant.

Things get wild and inconsistent with history. Either due to mage society hiding events or due to events seemingly having no evidence due to the age of gods ending which separates mankind from the reverse side of the world.

The metaphysical space where things like the Underworld, Heaven, or other such mythical places actually exist.

What about the Age of Man?

I gush over this because it not only shows the rich history in this world but it also really highlights how important Uruk is to the Age of Man and the planet's future.

Gilgamesh is a smug bastard but that confidence is not without merit. Even Romani, a man of the current day, is amazed by Gilgamesh's city planning and the sheer smooth machine that day to day life is in Uruk.

The anime, more so than the game imo, really highlights how important Uruk is to the future. Humans have existed for a long time, probably longer than science claims in the Fate world. However, mankind's age didn't begin till here.

Modern society traces it's origin to Uruk as Gilgamesh ran it in his final chapter of the Epic of Gilgamesh. When he became a wise king he founded a society so fundamental to human life that the entire human race ran with it.

They made alterations, societies fell, they improved upon it, they keep changing based on the environment. Nothing made by man is perfect, even Uruk, but it's fundamental.

It's the last singularity but it's the only one that Solomon himself tampered with because he knows the age of man starts here.

The anime will make you feel that through Mash, Ana, and Fujimaru. The mobile game had you do missions with the same purpose in mind but that doesn't do as well as seeing it in motion I think.

Watching Ana say she hates humans only to become attached to an old woman running a flower shop, seeing Leonidas train soldiers, Ushiwakamaru and Benki coming home after a long day battling beats, everyone gathering at Chaldea's own embassy like it's a home, Gilgamesh stopping to learn a new game being played children, etc.

It is a lot of small things that add up. You gain a true grasp of how people lived in this city. You could make a whole spin off of Uruk and it's day to day events and I would watch it.

I want to drive home how much I enjoyed those little scenes. It not only fulfilled my world building itch but these moments of humanity at it's purest made the various dialogues between inhuman characters more interesting.

Ana & Merlin

The most standout to me is the scene of Ana and Merlin discussing what it means to be an inhuman surrounded by humans. Merlin actually has a few good scenes of this topic but this one is the best for giving you insight into the minds of them.

Sure, you also have servants but many of them were human once. Ana, Merlin, and even Gilgamesh were not and so their views on humanity is by far more intriguing.

For Merlin, emotions are a lie. He feeds on human dreams to have and comprehend emotions. He openly admits he likes humanity as a whole but not individuals.

Ana, beings the goddess who becomes Medusa, has hatred for man and god but she also can't help but love them. She's even fearful of that love in a sense.

You have to keep in mind that Medusa is a very old myth. The one you know of about Poseidon raping her and Athena cursing her is actually the most recent one despite being a couple thousand years old. Both in Fate and our world her myth goes back further than this with no clear point of origin.

Ancient Greece did not have a solidified religion. The city states had a shared origin and a shared pantheon but the stories about said pantheon could vary based on the city and the age of that myth. Assuming it was even put to written record in the first place.

Ana in Fate is a nod to this. She was originally some long lost earth goddess before becoming what she was. Her hatred of the gods is solely the fault of Olympus but her hatred for man is from perceived abandonment.

Between Heaven's Feel and FGO I've come to have a soft spot for Medus as a whole. Conflicting feelings aside, she didn't deserve it and knowing that her curse caused her to eat her sisters and become a monster is just tragic.

I'd love for them to do a game or show with Medusa as your main servant one day.

Abandoned Gods

The contradictory nature mentioned above in regards to Ana is shared with all the gods we meet in the anime as well. Even the beasts of humanity have this conflicted feeling albeit the things they're conflicted on differ.

Tiamat in particular having the worst case of it by far. She's become a beast of humanity but she's original a primordial goddess. A dragon from which the primordial sea sprang.

She's trying to destroy humanity to keep it, she doesn't want her "children" (aka all life) to abandon her again. Knowing that and her true fate within this universe makes it arguably more tragic than the mythology of her murder via Marduk.

And to give you context of that I need to elaborate a bit on the planet.

The planet itself is a sentient being and in a rough sense humanity is it's progeny. The end goal of human evolution, as seen by Gilgamesh via his clairvoyance, is leaving the planet for the stars.

This growing separation from nature and man is the reason that the Counterforce even exists. As humans grow they become more at odds with the planet thus the Earth has two predominant forces.

"Gaia" who is the planet's will and "Alaya" the collective will of man. However, there was only originally "Gaia" and as the planet took shape so too did beings to shape it.

The oldest I know of is Ea. Yes THE Ea from Mesopotamian mythology. Ea shaped the world only for Tiamat and her husband to come after and seed life into the world he shaped.

So yes, when Gilgamesh boasts that his sword split the heaven's and earth he's being literal. Gil's sword of rupture is quite literally Ea's "sword" he used in those early days of creation.

What makes this a tragedy is that Tiamat, Ea, and Abzu predate death. They cannot kill Tiamat in the anime because she does not know the concept of death. She is truly immortal.

When Tiamat and Abzu's job was done they were chucked back into the void. Tiamat has been in Imaginary Number Space this entire time. No, I'm not explaining Imaginary Number Space. It's a concept bordering on zero. (complicated)

In this sense, once Tiamat was dethroned by Marduk she was just left to her own devices in the void all alone and I find that incredibly fucked up.

That gives her no right to just wipe out all life but that level of used and abused is wrong.

I legitimately felt bad for Tiamat here because I knew this expanded backstory. She wants to cling to humans in an unhealthy way since she's now a beast but at her core that is because her love as a mother is boundless. A facet of her that is true in IRL myths as well, in our myths she killed her husband for her children's sake.

I also found the anime did the final exchange with Tiamat much better because it boils down to a normal man and the mother of life. She asks him what she did wrong but he can't answer that.

Fujimaru can't answer that for her, all he can do is thank her for bringing life to the planet and say goodbye. It's so sad....

The planet wasn't even kind to her here. I mentioned Gaia and Alaya earlier, well the Throne of Heroes is originally something they use. Alaya is also known as "the Counterforce".

Summoning heroes as servants is a human ritual but the basis for it is what Alaya does when the mankind or the planet is in danger. One of those core dangers are the beasts of humanity.

The whole reason Hassan appeared is because the conditions for that were right. Hassan was sent to that era as a Grand Assassin to instill the concept of death into Tiamat. The planet itself was making sure that she truly died here.

Other Goddesses

Now I gush about Tiamat due to some bias but truthfully this abandonment issue is felt by several other gods as well. Quetzalcoatl does not seem to peeved yet she also pushes for people to do their best. "If you want to survive show it to me" in a sense.

Ishtar and Ereshkigal are heavily influenced by Rin Tohsaka's personality so it's hard for me to say how much of what they say is their true feelings. Given how Ishtar is said to behave in Fate/Strange Fake I'd wager her true feelings aren't represented.

Ereshkigal however I think is. She states that she thinks it's okay for people to blame what they don't know on the gods but she only says this because she knows that the age of gods is ending.

Soon man will seek answers for their issues and not gods for comfort or scapegoats. She'll be abandoned and she's yet to even truly enjoy their presence.

I'll admit, I felt a bit of pity and attachment for Ereshkigal as well. She just wants out of the cosmic basement and it's so sad that she can't. She did not choose to be there and as a goddess of death humans have nothing but fear of her.

She cages souls for centuries for a semblance of companionship.

Out of all the silly things the game did to make servants faun over Fujimaru it was only Ereshkigal's scenes that I believed due to this. She, very badly, pretends to be Ishtar to have talks with Fujimaru.

They're cute in the anime but I liked the games version of these moments more since the conversations were more frequent and longer. I could easily believe that she's grown attached to him.

Hell, I even found it funny when Ishtar was asking Mash things about the MC due to how obvious Ereshkigal is about her feelings.

And while many a Fate fan will gush over that due to some...questionable self insert delusions I found it cute for her but endearing. She's never had a human not cower in fear of her let alone one talk to her normally.

She so desperately wants a friend that I hope she escaped her cosmic basement once Kur disappeared to the reverse side of the world.

She so desperately wanted love that I fully feel that her feelings as a goddess against humans made sense. If the gods era truly ends she may be forever alone.

Let's rapid fire shall we?

This too has gotten quite long but I don't have it in me to make a part three so I'll gush about smaller things I enjoyed.

Such as Ishtar. I thought I'd have a bigger segment on her but she's basically just Rin that flies. My biggest impression was;

"The fact that Ishtar can be bought off with jewelry is by far the funniest thing Rin did to her personality."

And that still stands. I loved her character to be blunt, she was entertaining and she had some amazing scenes. The animation of her shooting Venus as a noble phantasm is gorgeous.

I also love how both Ishtar and Ereshkigal suffer from Rin's "girl failure" moments. But, again, that's due to Rin. Rin's mentality is...well it is what it is but what it is is such a perfect match for Ishtar they meld in a good way.

You could say the same about Ereshkigal, I know, but Ishtar isn't trapped in a cosmic dungeon for eternity. That backstory gave Ereshkigal ever the slightest bit more uniqueness to her character.

Also, fun fact, this Ishtar couldn't find her bull of heaven because the real Ishtar summoned it. So in a weird way Fate/Strange Fake had an affect on the FGO timeline.

Quetzalcoatl my throttle

She was an amusing character. I found nothing too stand out but nothing offensive. She did however have some of the best fight chorography in the anime and her noble phantasm was hands down the best one.

She drops kicks with the force of the meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs. Just put that into perspective, she is kicking with the force of a meteor. A meteor that wiped out most of the life on earth.

And before anyone asks, Quetzalcoatl is a woman because the Mesoamerican gods in Fate's lore were parasites that took on hosts. They were deified over time and this female form is simply Quetzalcoatl's latest host.

No, I will not comment on the voice. The poor accent is a part of the charm and I will die on that hill!

Hassan the Goat!

Between the sixth and seventh singularities in both game and anime form I have come to respect the beast that is Hassan I. This man is to be feared.

He made a primordial goddess aware of death. He even beheaded Ozymandias before he was even aware Hassan was in the room.

I also like that we got to see a grand servant being summoned in the intended way.

Gilgamesh, Enkidu, and Kingu

I won't make too long a segment on Gilgamesh since I'd really like to do a post on him one day. I haven't yet simply because I haven't seen his depiction in the Extra timeline and I'd love to see Strange Fake.

He's a complex character and the later entries seem to lessen the bastard you'll see in Fate/Stay Night to a degree.

But I will say that I enjoyed seeing him alive and as the wise king of Uruk. I was also impressed by the sheer magical power he had to summon several servants in a means closer to how they're meant to be summoned.

None of the man-made ritual used by a grail war or Chaldea.

The dynamic between Gil and Kingu was interesting though. Fuel for that eventual Gilgamesh post in the future.

Technically, Enkidu doesn't appear in this story however that bond he has with Gilgamesh is so profound that it affects Kingu and it's interesting to see how Gilgamesh treats Kingu due to it.

It is also through Kingu that we see how the citizens of Uruk felt about Enkidu. It really paints this beautiful relationship that's hidden just off screen. Still, Kingu was never truly his own being at the end.

That also goes to show just how powerful Enkidu's own persona was. Enkidu may have seen themselves as just a weapon and disputed it when told otherwise by others but that fact alone proves it to be true.

Enkidu was far more than a tool otherwise their influence wouldn't have been so great. Sadly, Kingu could only be more than a tool when fighting against Tiamat.

Siduri deserved better

That dynamic also made me curious about Siduri. When I was playing Samurai Remnant Gil says her name once and between the game and this anime I got a real glimpse of a person truly close to Gilgamesh.

He may deny that and Merlin isn't wrong when he says Gilgamesh only sees value in what humans make but there are exceptions to every rule.

He didn't necessarily value her as highly as Enkidu but I do believe that on some level Gilgamesh valued her as a person.

Her fate as a lahamu was just heartbreaking. I didn't even realize it when playing the game....

Conclusions and other things

All in all I really enjoyed the anime and the games story. Probably far more than I could squeeze into either of the two posts I made. I'm sure I'll be kicking myself for forgetting to add something later.

(like the passive aggressive banter between merlin and romani)

Get mad that I didn't elaborate on something as much as I had intended.

(such as Ushi and Benki)

Still, I'll stop here. I can't write anything else, my brains fried.

I loved this story and I'm sad so much of the anime will lose impact when the mobile game eventually shuts down. Bye for now~

========================

For my other experiences with Fate go here: https://derekscorner.tumblr.com/tagged/fated-rantings

[dchuntress]

Take this as an opportunity to yap abt anything bc otherwise I'd be picking ur brain over BoP dynamics and how 2 huntresses can come together to maximise their joint slay

HAIIII THANK YOU SO MUCH OMFG THESE ARE MY MOST FAVOURITE THINGS TO TALK ABOUT

unhinged ramblings underneath the cut

for the birds of prey:

i love the core four, i love the og trio, i love the extended roster where oracle is affiliated with almost every superheroine ever. i think as long as you have an understanding of what a birds of prey team looks like (hint: you don't just throw a bunch of women in a room and slap the bop level on them and call it a day), i think the dynamic works in every way

i think the birds of prey are so versatile that you could easily adapt them into a tense, high action film with a powerful cast, or a chill, comedic, sitcomesque animated show. you know what i'd love to see? a video game or two based on them! i had this idea the other day of a dating sim with babs as the central character, but i also think it'd be cool to see a more action and strategy focused game where you get to play as any of the four core and get to experience different gameplay mechanics for each character

i don't know how else to throw in this thought? but i wanna say that the birds of prey (talking namely about the core four here) are not without their conflicts; they're all headstrong women with strong personalities, opinions, and beliefs that conflicts are bound to happen, some of them might be more chill or stable than the other and they're all enduring, but none of them are without emotional baggage lol. a part of me thinks that helena's tendency as a lone wolf never truly goes away, she still has an apartment of her own and seldom lowers her guard, but as she spends more time with them, she feels less and less inclined to separate herself. they're a great time, and also a wonderful friendship group because at the root of it all, they care deeply about each other, they care about making a difference, they care about their respective legacies they want to nurture, and they have worked hard to earn each other's trust and they have got each other's brick. they founded this chaotic crew one brick at a time and you can't take that away from them!!!! you can just add more to them. <3

for the two huntresses:

i think there are a number of ways to achieve this, i'd just set some ground rules:

no competition between the two, none of that "helena wayne steals helena bertinelli's identity" thing, no "the two huntresses cannot co-exist" shit because that's nonsense to me, i genuinely think neither of them would have a problem with sharing the mantle and operating as huntress simultaneously.

when you respect both of their stories, there really is little room for complications or inequality in regards to whoever is "better" or gets "the more spotlight" because both of them are their own interesting individuals in their own right, both of them are doing their own thing, and both of them are equally worthy of the huntress mantle.

both huntresses are important; helena wayne was first created, and then helena bertinelli was created to continue telling the story of the huntress, and so on, and so forth.

i also think they MUST have their distinct differences — the suit design, the teams they're in, their thoughts on the bat mantle, the pronunciations of their names, and so on — but i also want them to be similar enough that people might mistake them for each other the first few times. in my head, both wayne and bertinelli are both women of colour and have wavy or curly hair, and they both radiate black cat energy, and they're both sapphic.

i think it's pretty sweet that helena wayne could've been inspired by helena bertinelli and took up the huntress mantle after her, but i think it also works just as well that helena wayne is the first huntress of earth 2. also additionally, i think it'd be neat if wayne was a lawyer again, because there are some comparisons that could be made between her dayjob and bertinelli's teaching job

to maximise their joint slay:

i think these two teaming up would be so neat, especially when they have the advantage of covering for each other and throwing off villains, like say, if they face off a manipulative supervillain that preys on fears, but he knows shit about wayne and he can't exactly blackmail her with bertinelli's trauma lol 😆

i can also see them both having similar motives and targets in crime fighting, since neither of them feels apologetic about being lethal and adopting less than lawful ways for justice and protecting innocent people.

i had this mini scenario of a case going wrong where the culprit involved ended up dying before he could've gotten arrested and all of the heroes involved are disappointed about this outcome, bertinelli and wayne are like "good riddance" in the background and do a fist bump

some other mini scenarios i had because i am bad at writing a structured book:

- hel wayne not so legally swiping money from bruce wayne's funds in earth one, when suddenly she's being confronted by oracle digitally... wayne casually strikes up a conversation with babs, something something "oh he won't miss that six million dollars", and wouldn't you know, babs agrees and makes that twelve million dollars because salaries for the birds don't fall down from trees, but she still has questions for miss wayne

- tim, who has been hanging out with helena from when he was a kid, being one of if not the first person to figure out that there are TWO huntresses. people think he's insane or sleep deprived at first but he is right!!!

- bertinelli wanting to shoot a fugitive right in the head, wayne stopping her, bertinelli being like oh don't you dare lecture me about how killing is bad or something, wayne is like, why would i do that? i'm just saying unless you're interested in getting caught, you should aim for somewhere between the toes, it'd mimic a heart attack and we can get out of here much quicker

- cats. idk. just let them play with kittens like a buzzfeed interview because they've been through a lot, they deserve a break

[princessmisery666]

Flowers of Fate

Summary: Serendipity, luck, coincidence – call it what you will, but Bradley is sure his parents may have had a hand in his good fortune. 

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, slight angst, meet-cute. 

W/C: 2.5k

Characters: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, OFC. Small Parts/Mentions: Carole & Nick Bradshaw (the OG relationship goals), Penny Benjamin, Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, Dagger Squad.

Pairing: Rooster x OFC

A/N: Not sure where this one came from.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // @writercole

Graphics: made by me.

Master Lists: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw // All The Fandoms

The sunrise accompanied Bradley’s jog around the lake like it did most mornings. He loved to get up before the sun and go jogging, not running, jogging. If he ran, he couldn’t appreciate the sound of the early bird song or how the rising sun shimmered across the lake while he did laps around the well-trampled path. 

He savored the quiet, never putting music on, enjoying the peace before his day of jet engines and Hangman’s ego truly started. 

Bradley’s mom had shown him the lake years before. It was where she and Goose snuck off for time alone while Mav babysat a much younger Bradley. A large oak stood at the lake’s edge, and Nick, being the romantic he was, had carved their initials and the date into it - ‘To show our love will last an eternity, like this tree.’ Carole had told him that story so many times. And his dad had been right; their love was eternal and forever immortalized by that tree.

His parents were gone, and the tree had aged, but new life sprang up every year around its base, which always made Bradley smile. It was as if their love still lived, and they were letting him know they were watching over him. He felt close to them here and often imagined them smiling down on him.

Though it was his favorite place to jog, today, he had another reason to be there. It was the date that had been carved into the bark, and he had a bouquet of purple calla lilies, his mother’s favorite, that he planned to leave at its base. 

With years of growth, large branches now shaded the path, creating dappled patterns on the packed dirt below. As Bradley rounded the curve, the sturdy trunk coming into view, he saw her. Leaning against the oak, her hand covering his parents’ initials for balance while stretching her legs out behind her. His feet stalled, rooting themselves in place as he watched her roll her shoulders and neck, limbering up. Eyes closed, she twisted, stretching her back, and he was stunned by her beauty—face free of makeup, full lips, curves and edges that begged to be squeezed and hair that looked velvety smooth with skin to match—a goddess in lycra and sneakers.

“Thank you,” he whispered up to the sky, believing it was a sign from his parents.

Eyelids fluttering open, she caught his gaze, giving him a smile that was prettier than the newly budding flowers around her feet. “Good morning,” she said. 

“Hey,” he smiled. 

She kept eye contact for a moment, then looked down at the flowers in his hand, and he realized he'd been gawking.

Way to be creepy, Bradshaw.

“Those are beautiful,” she said, “Calla lilies, right?”

“Um, yeah,” he said.

“Those are my favorite. How did you know?” She teased, smiling. 

He chuckled, and a second before his brain told him to take a step closer and start a real conversation, someone jogged into his peripheral. A tall, light-haired man ran to her side and kissed her cheek. 

“I’ve been waiting for almost half an hour,” she griped at the man, “you're lucky I love you!” 

Bradley’s heart sank to his feet, and a weight of discontent settled on his shoulders. With a heavy sigh, he continued on his way. He’d set the flowers down on his next lap. 

It wasn’t meant to be.

Since Maverick introduced the Dagger squad to Dogfight Football, they went down to the beach as often as possible to play a game and let off steam after a long day of training.

Jake threw a long ball, and Bradley jogged backward, watching it arch through the sky. The ball hit the sand, and he reached out to catch it on the bounce but missed, fingers skimming the side as the oval ball bounced out of reach.

“Here,” a familiar voice said, and he turned to see the woman from the lake holding the ball out to him. 

“Uh, thanks,” Bradley muttered, taking the ball from her outstretched hand. He was thankful he was wearing sunglasses because his eyes roamed her body from head to toe. Her hair was down, sitting in thick waves over her left shoulder. She’d applied light makeup, a gray sweater, and jeans that accentuated the curves he’d admired earlier.

“Calla lily guy, right?” she asked, recognizing him too.

“Yeah,” he nodded and felt his cheeks heat up. He’d been staring again. He wiped his sweaty palm on his jeans and then offered it to her, “I’m -”

“Hen, come on! Penny’s got our drinks ready,” the light-haired man from earlier stood on the deck of the bar, waving her over.

Bradley stuttered. Her name was Hen. It had to be divine intervention. Had to be. Like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing, he tried to find air to form words. 

Before he succeeded, Jake yelled, “Rise and shine, chicken boy. Get off the perch and back in the game!”

“Looks like we’re both wanted elsewhere,” she chuckled and shied from Bradley's gaze, tucking her hands into the back pocket of her jeans, “Good luck with the game.”

He watched her cross the beach, and she looked back over her shoulder at him once, smirking. He was gawking again, but he couldn’t look away. She sat on the bench opposite the man who had called her, and they spoke for a moment. She laughed, eyes creasing, shoulder shaking, and tipped her head back. It was as blinding as looking into the sun.

Until Hen had left, she’d had Bradley’s attention. Distracted by her lilting laughter, he kept glancing over, catching her eye while she chatted and joked with her friends. The lack of attention to the game subsequently meant a loss for his team. 

Hangman would never let them live it down, and as Bradley was to blame, he’d promised that drinks were on him for the night. That was the only reason he’d gone to the Hard Deck, to pay off his debt.

He entered to rapturous cheers and orders of “Tequila and beers!” 

So it was going to be one of those nights. Bad decisions that led to good stories to tell. As he made his way through the crowd to the bar, he made a mental note to give his keys to Bob.

“Hey, Mav,” Rooster said, clapping the man on the back as he reached the bar. 

“Hi, kid,” Maverick smiled. 

“Hey, Penny,” he greeted, “can I get six beers, six shots of tequila, and a soda, please?”

“Opening a tab?” Penny asked, lining up the glasses on the bar.

“Probably best.” 

Pete leaned back to look at him, quickly deducing, “So you lost a bet, huh?”

“I did,” Rooster nodded, shaking his head, “let myself get distracted.” 

“Come on,” Mav chided, “I taught you better than that.” 

“She was a real pretty distraction,” Rooster defended, “and I don’t know, kinda felt like…” he cut himself off. It seemed ridiculous to be talking about fate and love at first sight. “It’s stupid. I barely spoke three words to her, but it all felt like a sign. She was at Mom and Dad’s tree, then she picked up Dad’s ball, and I just… I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”

“You sound like your dad talking about Carole,” Mav chuckled fondly, but quickly it shifted to a sad smile. His focus drifted to a spot beyond the room, losing himself in memories how he often did. 

Bradley turned back to Penny. “Maybe you should pour an extra shot,” he sighed as he scrubbed his hand down his face.

“You got it,” Penny replied, tapping her knuckles on the counter as she turned to pull their favored brand of liquor. “Hey, Hen, grab six bottles of Budweiser’s.”

Bradley’s head snapped up as he heard her name, and his eyes landed on the brunette he’d seen twice - now three times - in the same day. She was focused on popping the caps off the bottles before gathering them up, and as soon as she lifted her head, her eyes landed on Bradley. 

“Hey you,” she said as if they were old friends. “Three times in one day? Is this a coincidence, or are you stalking me?” 

He stuttered, struggling to find a suitable reply that didn’t make him sound like a creep. Instead, for the third time, all he could do was gawk at her.

Hen laughed, placing the bottles on the bar in front of him beside the tequila shots. She winked, “I hope it’s the latter.”

Bradley’s brain continued to forget the concept of speech, his lips moved, but no words came out, and he couldn’t stop staring. Her eyes were soft and kind, the color of burnt caramel, and he was drowning in them.

Wait, she said something, right? He grabbed a glass and shot back the tequila with a wince, hoping the sour taste would kickstart his brain.

“Oh, this is going about as well as it did when your Dad met your Mom,” Maverick snickered under his breath.

“Henrietta, this is Bradley,” Penny offered, “Bradley, this is Henrietta.” 

“Hen,” she said, “my grandma was Henrietta. I’m Hen.” She stretched her hand over the bar. “Nice to finally officially meet you.”

Hen. Her name is Hen?! Bradley stared at her hand, and it took Maverick literally kicking him to get his brain to catch up. He shot his hand out, knocking over a bottle, and she jumped back, a splash of beer splattering her sweater, before he could make the connection. 

Mortified, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry.”

Penny set about cleaning up the spill and sent Hen out the back to attend to her shirt.

“I’m an idiot,” Rooster grumbled, watching her maneuver through the crowd to the back. He sighed, exhaling the embarrassment he felt. “I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. She has a boyfriend.” He shrugged, the image of the man crisp in his mind. “He’s as gorgeous as she is, probably a pediatrician or saves puppies or something, blonder than Hangman too, so I’m not even her type.”

A boisterous bark of laughter startled Bradley, and he turned toward the sound. Of course, it was the gorgeous boyfriend, and now that Bradley was closer, he saw he had amazing eyes too. Flecks of gold highlighted the green hues that couldn’t decide if they were hazel. 

“You think I’m gorgeous?” He asked, smiling.

“Yes, and oh crap,” realization hit Bradley like a bat to the chest, and he was mortified all over again. “You’ve been there the entire time I’ve been swooning over your girlfriend.”

“And throwing drinks on her,” Gorgeous eyes laughed.

“I didn’t… it was an…”

The man’s laughter intensified, and he slapped a hand on Bradley’s shoulder, “I’m messing with you,” he interrupted. “I’m Derek, the gay brother,” he explained, laughter subdued to an amused chuckle, “And for the record, I do save puppies.”

“She’s single?” 

“Very much so,” Derek said. “And she’s been swooning over you too. Seeing you, she thought it was a sign. She’d sworn off men - bad breakup a while ago. Decided to dip her toe back in the dating pool, but it’s been a bit disastrous. Seeing you today, with her favorite flowers, at her favorite place to jog, wearing a t-shirt of her favorite band, she thought the universe was trying to tell her something.” 

“Really?”

“Really.” 

Bradley felt his heart skip a beat. It had been a sign for both of them. “Excuse me,” he said, already pushing through the queue at the bar.

He ignored the questions yelled at him by his friends. Their drinks could wait. He had something he needed to do. 

Hen was at the sink, dabbing a damp cloth against the stain, when he barged through the door, but she looked up at him as the doors swung shut, blocking out the noisy bar. 

He gawked again, tongue-tied, a million questions firing through his head, but he didn’t ask any of them. Her friendly smile began to fall, perhaps wondering if he was suffering from a mental breakdown. 

“Your name is Hen,” he said. She nodded once. He walked closer while he rambled, “Your name is Hen, and I’m Rooster, and you like Calla Lilies and my mom and dad’s tree, and you have a gay brother, not a boyfriend. And your name is Hen. And now I’ve said that three times but that’s not what I wanted to say, but you're so beautiful I keep forgetting what words are, and then you smile at me, and I forget how to breathe, and I’m usually not this much of an idiot, but I think I might… ”

She stole his breath by placing her hands flat on his chest. “Take a breath.” 

Oh yeah. Breathe between sentences. If he got out of this alive, he’d have a serious word with himself. 

She waited for him to follow her suggestion before asking, “What did you want to say?”

‘Please have my babies’ seemed a little too forward, so he settled for, “Can I take you out for dinner tomorrow night?” 

There was no hesitation or thought, only a playful, happy smile followed by a decisive and firm “yes.”

Bradley may have lost the football game, but Hen seemed to be a good luck charm, she’d said yes to a date, and now he just couldn’t lose. Darts, pool, cards he’d won every game, looking over at her every time he scored or won a hand, to find her looking back at him.

He’d decided against drinking. He didn’t need any more fuel to make a fool of himself, so he left his tab open for the rest of the Daggers and whistled a happy tune as he strolled to his Bronco.

“Hey, Rooster,” Hen called.

His heart sank as he spun to face her. She looked uneasy, and he knew she was going to tell him she’d changed her mind about the date. She stopped in front of him and smiled, but there was something in it he couldn’t quite put his finger on, nerves, remorse perhaps.

“I’ve been thinking about it all day, and if I don’t do it, I’ll be nervous for our date, and I don’t want to be nervous. Not scared, nervous, more excited, nervous. You know? I want to enjoy it so um… could you… I mean, can I… screw it.” She stepped into his space, swiftly cupped his cheeks, and rose to the tips of her toes while pulling him down to meet her lips.

He was shocked for maybe half a second before he leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her waist to tug her closer to him. She tasted like tequila. He imagined she’d done a shot for liquid courage before following him outside. 

It may have lasted for a minute. It could have lasted for an hour. He didn’t know. He’d kissed a few women in his life, but nothing had ever felt like this, and he didn’t know it until her hand was wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer and deepening the kiss, but Bradley had been waiting for her.

Feedback in the form of a likes/comments/reblogs is like a forehead kiss and fuels the muses 💟

Master Lists: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw // All The Fandoms

Tag list info.

Take To The Skies: @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @imjess-themess / @justagirlinafandomworld / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @shanimallina87 / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @xoxabs88xox / @atarmychick007 / @genius2050

[trulytiredhermit]

Ugh you guys know what I could love to see in a Reader x Linked Universe Drabble?

Resident Evil Reader x The Chain.

And when I say resident evil reader I mean like an Ethan Reader, like was just a normal person but they they got this mysterious distress call from their friend and just got pulled into everything.

I’m not going to say too much about Resident Evil Biohazard or Village, but for those of you who know what happens to Ethan y’all know the angst and trauma Reader would have been out through.

So like here’s the spoilers then now

—————————————

So like Reader would have gone through the complete horrific shit show that was Resident Evil biohazard where a small nice family got their minds taken over and were infected by this humanoid bioweapon known as Evelyn that can control people through this special mold and spores.

Not only can she control them she can severely and grotesquely enhance them. Like true body horror stuff.

And to some of those who she infects with her “gift” they simply turn into zombie like black mold covered monsters with razor sharp teeth and no kind of their own. Their only thoughts being to rip, tear, and kill anyone in front of them.

Not to mention the killer traps and puzzles Reader had to go through due to the infected family’s crazy and sadisitc son Lucas.

But in the end Reader was able to make it out and save their missing friend after killing the big bad, which was Evelyn who turned into a true monstrous being like Calamity Gannon had only she was made of this black mold substance.

But then, perhaps not even 2 years later, Reader goes through another situation like this. Just when they thought they were safe.

This time Reader has to fight the monstrous 4 lords and this mother Miranda figure, who is seen as like a goddess to the small town Reader finds themselves in.

Once again just another traumatic shit show for Reader as they search for their friend again and their friend’s daughter.

Having to fight against werewolf like individuals, mechanically enhanced individuals, psychotic dolls, and sadisitc vampire like beings Reader’s really put through the wringer.

And then only to find out from a certain Mother Miranda that they’ve actually been infected with the mold from the previous game, the same thing that infected the 4 lords and the baker family. Reader died back then when they were trying to save their friend from that infected family.

They’re only alive now because of the mold.

And then just blah blah blah Reader has to go through being killed by Mother Miranda and then reviving themself with the mold and they eventually defeat Mother Miranda and save their friend and their friends baby.

However to truly kill the monstrous being Mother Miranda became Reader sacrifices themselves and takes a bomb with them to where the like hive mind/the root of the mold/essentially Mother Miranda honestly is and sets off the bomb because they were already dead anyways.

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(END OF RE 7 and 8 SPOILERS)

But then Reader wakes up confused and dazed on this grassy plain within this beautiful forest.

They can remember what they went through and what happened and they start thinking that this must be heaven or something. Like this must be where they went to when they died.

But then eventually they end up meeting people and then the Chain and they realize that something is seriously wrong now. That they somehow aren’t dead, but also aren’t in their original world anymore.

I just… my brains going BRRRRRR right now for the angst and trauma and just the pure unadulterated horror that the Chain would feel if Reader tells them about their world and what they had to go through.

And the best thing? Reader would probably definitely choose to stay in the Chain’s world. They wouldn’t ever want to go back.