#trying a new tagging system so I can actually find shit lmao

[ebongawk]

Hi!! HUGE fan of “even the stars (are taking aim)” here (very patiently waiting for the next chapter to drop😌🙏) and figured I may as well try out this prompt thing:

Eddie and Chrissy having their first Big Damn Kiss in a rainstorm, someplace where no one can see them, maybe after some kind of argument so they’re already passionate. I’d love to see what you create from this decently cliched premise😊✨

omg, thank you so much! 🥹 every star in the sky was updated on Tuesday!! and I'm hoping to be back to a semi-regular update schedule. however:

🌧️🌧️

He shouldn't be pissed.

He shouldn't be pissed.

He shouldn't be pissed.

(He was fucking fuming.)

Because it was August. The absolute tail end of the last summer he would ever spend in Hawkins, Indiana if he had fuck all to say about it. Because this was the absolute last goddamn high school-adjacent party he would ever be posted up at as a dealer, selling the bottom of his stash's barrel and high-tailing it the fuck outta here in four days.

Because he'd spent the last eight months falling into a weird, incredible friendship with Chrissy Cunningham and convincing her she was actually fucking worth something more than her mother let her believe, getting her to break up with her shitty boyfriend and start the process of reclaiming her life, only for her to show up at this stupid party on Jason Carver's arm.

She'd dumped him in March. Before spring break. Yet here she was, tucked under his ugly-ass letterman sleeve as she nursed the same red solo cup the entire night, and it made him want to fucking barf.

Eddie rolled his neck. Tucking another cigarette between his lips as he cranked up the prices of his product out of sheer spite. Taking advantage of the hazy stupor and fading into the background.

Chrissy tried to get his attention. More than once. He just ignored her.

What the fuck else was he supposed to do? Watching her intentionally go back to that asshole wasn't really something he'd even thought was a possibility. So why would he have prepared himself for the blow?

He just didn't think it'd hurt so fucking much.

Finally, after about midnight, he was officially sold out. Out of the game entirely. He snapped his box of tricks closed, protecting the crinkled pack of cigarettes from the summer rainstorm he could see pelting the porch screens. He didn't bother bidding anyone goodnight.

The one person he thought would care was too busy flashing the fakest fucking smile she had in her arsenal at that blond jockstrap.

Whatever. Screw it. Who cared? A year from now, he'd be so far removed from all this bullshit that it wouldn't even cross his mind.

(Even if that thought currently made him want to puke up his guts and choke on them.)

Uncaring of who he hit on his way out, Eddie slipped out the front door after smashing into a few angry shoulders. The shouts of indignation at his back may as well have been whispers for how much of them he heard, bowling his way into the warm rain and rushing toward his van.

He always parked hidden away from these events. Ever since Hopper decided to be happy and move to California with Joyce Byers and company, the P.D. had it especially out for Eddie. Giving Callahan a reason to crash a party would have him on way too many shit-lists to count.

Which was normally fine. Except right now. Soaked through by the rain and barely halfway to his stupid fucking sanctuary.

"Eddie!"

Christ.

Her voice still made him stop in his tracks. Shoulders heaving, spine straightening like someone suddenly jammed a rod down it.

Why did it hurt so much?

Turning, he tried to keep his expression as even as possible as he looked at her. Drenched from the stupid water falling from the stupid sky, her hair was already a mess plastered to her skin as she did her best to protect herself from the onslaught.

Too bad Eddie had already been caught in the metaphorical crossfire.

"What, Cunningham?" he asked, giving her obvious pause as she blinked up at him. He'd never been so harsh with her.

He didn't even know why he was being so harsh with her.

(Yes he did.)

"I-I just..." she started, holding an arm over her eyes so she could look up at him. They were standing in the spotlight of a streetlamp, the only thing illuminated in the entire world, and that anger still oozed from him like a bad infection. Festering too close to the surface to remain covered. Like the rain was washing it out, bringing it forward. "You–– You didn't, um, say hi, and you––"

"Okay?" He shrugged. "So, what, I'm legally required to exchange pleasantries with you every time I see you?"

"No, of course not, just––"

"Honestly, kid, I just wanna go home," he said before she could continue. Backing up a step. "Been nice, y'know, being friendly and all, but––" Coming to an immediate halt when one of her dainty little hands darted out and fisted in the wet fabric of his t-shirt.

"Eddie, you're being mean," she stated, her voice hard. Something she learned from him, he knew. Saying things, pointing out when people were being unfair instead of just writing welcome across her forehead and lying down for someone to be shitty to her. "And I–– I know this is about Jason, okay, but you didn't even let me explain––"

"Explain what, Cunningham?" he nearly shouted. "Because, honestly, I cannot for the life of me figure out why you'd willingly find yourself trapped under the weight of that jerk wad's arm."

"Because I need to be!" Chrissy really did shout, shaking her fist in his shirt for emphasis. The other was fisted against her own abdomen. Letting those mascara streaks fall down her cheeks like tear tracks.

Eddie scoffed. "Oh, you need to be? Excuse me, princess, didn't realize you needed him so much!"

"I don't––"

"Could've fucking fooled me, honestly!"

"I don't need him, Eddie! I just need to play her game for three more days and then––"

But she didn't finish her thought.

Instead, before he could even process what was happening, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and surged up onto her toes, pressing her lips clumsily against his.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Eddie didn't think. Didn't fucking breathe. He just groaned, cupping her jaw in his hands and kissing her like his fucking life depended on it.

She tasted like rainwater and watermelon lipgloss and the fucking sunrise breaking past the clouds, basking him in her light and warming him against the rain. They moved together, a dance of lips and tongue, her little mewl of pleasure rolling down his spine as he greedily drank in every piece of her she was allowing him.

Shit. Shit. This was gonna hurt, wasn't it?

They fell apart, both of them pulling in air like they'd forgotten they had lungs, and Eddie let his forehead drop against hers. Holding her for however long he was allowed, how ever long she gave him.

"I don't need him," she whispered again, her voice near enough that it was like he could finally hear her. "I'm not even with him. It's just... It's just until I get my college fund, and then..."

"Does he know that?" Eddie asked, hating the vehemence in his own tone.

"Yes, Eddie," she assured him. "He's not as bad of a guy as you want to believe, you know." Her hands came up, wrapping around his wrists as she looked up at him. Blinking into the rain, she gave him a real, actual smile. One of those little ones he kinda hoped was reserved just for him. "He knows how I..."

She shook her head, then blew his fucking mind when she pushed up enough to kiss him again.

"I need you," she informed him. And Eddie could see her opening the little doorway into his chest and reaching in to pull his heart out. Though whether she was doing that now or eight fucking months ago was impossible to say. "I want you and I need you."

Oh, he was gonna explode. Poof into a million little bits, covering her in heart-shaped blood and viscera.

"Only if you need me, too, though," she finished when his fucking voice box wouldn't work.

He kissed her again. An emphasis to a point he couldn't verbally make. And she melted against him like it was everything she needed, everything she'd been craving alongside him for the last eight months.

"Christ, sweetness, I think I'm already in love with you," he laughed, the sound wet around the rain still falling around them.

"Oh," she breathed, looking up at him, her eyes so fucking bright in that subtle streetlamp light that he wanted to claw his way out of his own skin and use it as an umbrella for her. "Oh, that's good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Because, um, I was hoping you'd have room for two in that van of yours come Wednesday." She grinned. "Should have all my stuff sorted out by then."

Eddie laughed again, bright and loud, letting the rain wash away all that gross upset so he could lift her by the waist and spin her around. She screamed in delight, arms around his shoulders, and he stopped and held her steadily above him so she could bring her lips down to his once more.

"I've got all the room in the fucking world for you, baby."

[thezombieprostitute]

Lmao this made me think of Jakey Poo

You know what? I'm making this canon for how Jake and Sunshine met.

Summary: Jake knows he's the luckiest man in the world and it's all because of you.

Warnings: None at this time. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Part 1

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Poor Jake didn't have much going for him when he left military service for the civilian life. He's just not sure what to do with himself outside of work and gaming. He tries to go out, especially when he's meeting up with The Losers again, but often he finds himself just feeling lonely with too much time on his hands.

Then he gets a ticket from you. The problem seems like an easy enough fix so Jake, still being the new guy on the team, gets assigned to it. He signs onto the Zoom app that he despises with all of his being, but it's company policy to use it.

When you answer the Zoom call your voice is so sweet that it takes Jake a second to respond. You actually think there's something wrong with the connection and he hears you saying, "frick. Even in the future nothing works."

He laughs, recognizing the Spaceballs reference, and startles you. "Sorry about that," he chuckles, as he hears your gasp. "That was just...really funny. Don't meet a lot of Spaceballs fans these days." He shakes his head, "anyways, I'm going to take control of your computer for a bit so I can try to fix it."

"Of course," you reply. It is standard procedure.

Jake gets a remote look at your desktop background and gasps, "you're a Pokemon fan!"

"Gen 1 and proud," you reply.

"That might explain what happened," he starts. "You let your Magnemite get too close to your laptop!" You laugh at the joke and Jake feels his cheeks heat up.

"Well it certainly isn't a Rattata chewing on the wires," you chuckle back.

"Hmm. Maybe we should get maintenance to double check," he jokes. He starts poking around your system files and is immediately at a loss. "What the..."

"Everything okay?"

"Umm..." Jake starts floundering. "I, um, I think. Hmm..."

Shit, he thinks. He was really hoping he could impress you. He's never even seen you but you're so nice and a fellow geek. He wanted to go in, press a button and fix your problem, but this is something more complicated than the ticket implied. He's wishing he had his pirate hat to help him think.

"Okay," he shakes his head, clearing his thoughts, "I think I'm going to need to take a look at the computer itself to figure this out."

"Sure thing." You exchange names and give him your cubicle number and quickly start cleaning up your desk. He might be an IT guy but his voice is very sexy, his laugh even moreso. And he's a fellow geek! Not someone who looks down on you for liking "childish things". You want to make a good impression.

By the time Jake gets to your cubicle you've tidied up pretty well. You smile up at him and Jake swears he's never met a more beautiful woman in his life. He's barely able to get out a "hi" because you've taken his breath away.

You're trying hard not to giggle and kick your feet at how cute Jake is. The fact that you've flustered him isn't lost on you and it makes you feel even giddier.

"Um, I um, I like your, your Gravity Falls sweater," Jake finally gets out.

Looking down you realize you're wearing your handmade Mabel Pines sweater and your face lights up. "Oh, thanks! I made it myself!"

"That's so cool," Jake says, earnestly. "I'm always so jealous of people who can make their own cosplay stuff."

"I could make you something," you quickly offer. "If, that is, um, if you'd like."

He smiles at you and, for the first time in a very long time, he feels like everything's going to be okay. The clouds are parting and you, the sunshine, are lighting up his life.

Part 1

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[holocene-sims]

simblr new years resolutions 2024!

thank you @stargazer-sims so much for tagging me!! ❤️✨🌟

not sure who has done this one yet but i'll tag 💌 @seyvia @simmersofia @mangosimoothie @minty-plumbob @queeniecook @dandylion240 @mmmatchasims @thebramblewood @aheathen-conceivably @nectar-cellar @igglemouse & anyone who sees this and wants to do it!

honestly, i have never made a new years resolution in my life, so this is a fun exercise to try out for once!

what's your resolution for your simblr?

this is VERYYYYY ambitious but i want to fully complete the core "everything the stars promised" and move on to doing side content and MOST IMPORTANTLY the more loosey goosey fun epilogue :)

april 15th of this year will mark the second anniversary of the story! i've done so much and yet at the same time, so little in the grand scheme of the plot i have in mind. i randomly checked today to see how many pages on my blog the story takes up and we're at 31 pages! so, uh, about 15 pages a year - not sure if that's good progress or not but oh well! we are getting close to the extra exciting parts of the story, and i would love to finish it all up this year, you know? finish on a nice round even anniversary number and with a bunch of plot point bangers lolol

but we'll see! it's possible, maybe, since i'm graduating college this semester and will have more free time for a while, at least i as figure out the work situation and probably even while working whenever i do get a job since nightly homework will no longer exist LMAO, but even if it's not possible, i am definitely promising myself to work harder on the story! i really do love this thing despite it all and i'm proud of it, and i want to see how much i can keep improving it so that the ending is truly the best part <3

what do you want from the sims franchise?

a sale on kits lmfaoooo!!! (which will never happen) i have exactly 5 dollars left over from an old gift card someone gave me for ea app when it was still origin. it's exactly enough for a kit except that sales tax adds on 7 cents and the gift card leftovers don't cover that.

yeahhhh...i'm neither charging 7 cents for sales tax nor 5 bucks for a second kit to my credit card. no, ma'am. i want that shit for FREE

any other new years resolutions?

don't become incredibly depressed by the shock of leaving the school system after almost 23 years of life and the horrors of figuring out the whole...life and career...thing

lol this resolution will be broken

so, how about an achievable one? read more books and write more actual prose, whether for my sims story or for something else. i've been so burnt out from academia that it's all stopped being fun. like even my sims story has been such a drag to create because i just have zero desire to write, to work on the outline, or find inspiration.

and that really sucks. writing and reading have been a huge part of my life for so long and they mean a lot to me, but right now they do feel exhausting. i'm tired of looking at a word document and wanting to bash my head into the keyboard because it reminds me of writing project proposals and boring shit instead of good fiction.

but i'm hoping the freedom from academia will spark joy in my literary hobbies again, and i'm going to try and bring back my love for them myself :) not sure how but aside from finding a way to work on the sims story more, i'm thinking maybe i'll commit to trying out more short-form writing prompts.

[purple-space-aliens]

✮🛸intro🪐✮

mutuals please filter tag posts about and relating to the election with #tagging for goops

if you would like to avoid our posts about our non positive feelings towards winter/prewinter and holidays such as thanksgiving, new year’s day, and possibly christmas, christmas eve, and new year’s eve, please block/filter the tag ‘#goops seasonal moping’

we don’t use code names anymore because none of us gaf lmao. we have dsmp fictives so if you don’t like that then leave. also we swear. a lot

we’re a endo system who has been on tumblr for a little bit and are redoing certain aspects of our blog to be a bit more accurate! many of us are nonhuman in the headspace in one way or another (kin, holothere, etc). in addition to this, we’re all collectively a goop dog alien who also has parasites, or as we call them, “bugs”! we are physically goop, but are usually in a human form as it takes too much effort to intentionally shift so might as well stay in disguise. we are also able to rarely shift into other creatures, such as a jerboa, but we usually stay human or sometimes our true body. originally we were nervous about bringing up the whole physically nonhuman thing, but with the recent in holothere content, we decided to go ahead and show that part of ourselves to tumblr. also, we mostly use the color purple, despite the rainbow username so yeah.

dni/byi

filter tags

goopsona refenerce image

✮🛸basic info🪐✮

~ our name is goop (collective identity) or lemons (tumblr system name)!

~ collectively maverique!

~ collectively we currently use they/them (in a plural sense), it/its, and be/bim/bis/bimself!

~ we use the label holothere usually, but don’t rlly care much abt or mind labels

~ we’re probably neurodivergent so keep that in mind!

~ some of us are adults, while others are not (the body is a minor tho so don’t be weird and shit)

~ endo system (no syscourse, most of us hate discourse and all that stuff)

~ we’re still learning abt the whole parasitical bugs thing, and will add more abt that whenever we find stuff out

~ plz interact u you want, we like to try and meet new people even tho we’re bad at social stuff! (rbs, asks, comments are much appreciated!)

~ we mostly post nonhuman and alterhuman stuff, so except to see that kind of thing on this blog as we get better at writing (we struggle with writing so we’ll see how much improving actually happens lol)

~ the purple goopy alien dog designs is a more online sona version of what we look like, which was designed by a friend!

✮🛸headmates list🪐✮

codename+emoji (pronouns//non-human?//kin type//other)

~ tommy (moots and headmates can call me toms/tom)🌹(he/fae/she//existence related to tommyinnit in some way but we don’t know for sure the details//red panda and bird hybrid//polar bearkin//minor)

~ nick or nikki 🏵️(he/she//piplup and vampire//huskykin//age regressor?)

~ yellow 🍋(alien//whalekin and monkeykin//dsmp ponk but doesn’t rlly like talking abt it)

~ phil 🍃(he/him//part crow//shockingly philza,idk where he’s been tho)

~ cyan (can also call pup) 🦋(kinda dogkin but it’s complicated, hawkkin, arctic foxkin, sockeye salmonkin//minor)

~ ranboo 🫐(he/him//some kind of creature//ranboo fictive but dunno where he’s been)

~ sodalite/soda 🌀(dragon//uses translations form other alters)

~ purple(d)/finn/cosmo (moots and headmates can call me purp)���(ey/em/eirs/emself and he/him//dsmp purpled fictive, don’t like me? fuck off then because i like me//alien, rabbit, and jerboa (complicated)//rabbitkin, duckkin, agoutikin, maybe something else but idk)

~ iris ☂️ (they/them//alien//polecat therian//minor//age regressor)

~ pink 🌸(he/him//pig//technoblade fictive but doesn’t rlly care if you call him that or not)

~ crimson 🧣(he/him//demon dog)

~ frost ❄️ (any pronouns, including neos//bug alien//questioning sea turtle kin)

~ taffy 🎀 (any//angel)

~ lime 🍊(any of he/she/they/it//lion)

~ ube 🪁 (he/him, sometimes they, never she//eevee//luigi fictionkin(i think)//age regressor//i’m not the brightest or best at communicating sorry//trans in a kinda confusing way??? [complicated but i feel the need to specify as it is very important to me specifically])

~ forest 🐊 (he/it, maybe other but dunno//crocodilian or gator thing//maybe agre?//it types like this a lot so be patient with it)

~ ace🌙 (he/him//demon//please read his filter tag list)

~ littles 🌤️ (anonymous)

[tempesttz]

i would start joining some pro-endo discord servers if you happen to use the app, just talking to the people and getting used to them. the community tends to be quite kind and welcoming from what i have experienced! (of course there will always be Strange Places but there's not much you can do about that sadly). just listen to people as they talk about their experiences in life, ask them about their plurality and how it works if they're comfortable, get to know people basically! you might make some new friends out of it, which can be pretty comforting when a lot of your friends are antis, haha. it can make you feel isolated so its good to branch out. make an alt account if you're scared of someone finding out (if you so desire)! though fair warning, a lot of pro-endo servers tend to be much more heavily locked under verification because antis will frequently come raid the servers and most of them aren't really chuffed about taking the possibility of someone getting told to sudoku themself in genchat by a raider

try seeing the wider plural community from a non-disordered perspective, both for the sake of acceptance and for the sake of the possibility of getting verified in any servers you may decide to join. most people in pro endo communities describe a system as "someone who is more than one" or experiences the phenomenon of having more than one voice/consciousness/individual in their mind or body. you can shuffle any of those words around and they still make sense. i find a lot of antis will describe being a system as "when [inserts description of DID]" which tends to be a pretty big waving flag, lol. traumagenic systems fall into "someone who is more than one [usually with a disorder]." it works for anyone disordered status or not which helps

pluralpedia, while shit on frequently in anti spaces, is actually a pretty good resource if you're bored, looking for a word to describe a specific experience or role you have, or trying to learn more about other systems and how they may work and the origins behind certain labels! it's a community-driven wiki so it's a good way to get a feel for ~the community.~ don't use it as a plural bible though. lol

there isn't really any "reputable" sources for endogenic terms or communities (other than a few psych papers looking into the concept of tulpas) because it's not really a disorder, just a niche phenomenon turned community, and the psych field didn't really care that much about them until recently (i'm still not sure if they care now, i presume they're more preoccupied with looking into disorders lmao). hence why it's best to talk to people in the community directly. that being said, @/sysmedsaresexist is pretty good at syscourse debates (they are very strong in their wording, but i respect them highly). i would recommend you avoid sophieinwonderland, she has a history of being a not-so-great-individual.

some individuals may use the plural code and the syscourse code so they're good links to know. the radqueer emoji code is also good to know in order to spot members of the rqc, i'm not sure how updated that list is but it's good to have it at least.

other than that i stand by the fact it's probably best to learn by osmosis. check out the pro endo, pluralpunk, and plural party tags! that's where we usually post about our experiences :]

i wish you luck and i love your tq, anon!

:33 < (this isnt a hot take! feel furee to delete this if you want but purrlease lmk if you do!) i am an anti endo thats hoping to become purro endo, but im a bit scared on where to start? i know that sounds silly, but almost all of my furiends are anti endo, most of what i know about systems is from anti endo places or medical sites about them (im diagnosed and never did any purrsonal research on my diagnosis), and a lot of the purro endos ive met have been icky at best (tho thats mostly cause theyve mostly been either radqueers, assholes in general, or people who think traumagenics shouldnt have their own spaces). im just a bit nervous for making that final transition. do you have any advice or know any blogs that could give advice?

Being pro-endo is as simple as supporting the ways systems can form besides trauma.

We can't recall any resources off the top of our head that can be helpful, but learning about endogenic systems and other system formations can be a good starting point.

Also talk to some endogenic systems about their experiences, you may find they have more in common with you than you first thought. I invite those following this blog to comment on it with links or things they'd like you to know.

Hey everyone, come help this anon out!

[ukiyokki]

mars reads too much dreamnotfound fanfiction for their own good

a dreamnotfound fanfic recommendation list by your resident dumbass (me)

this took way to fucking long... i’m tired

below is a (very extensive) list dedicated to all my favorite dnf fics, ranging from quick one shots to 100k+ word monstrosities that devour the storage on my computer, forever incomplete masterpieces to ongoing works of art, you get the idea. i provided links for each fic/series for your reading pleasure. there will be no smutty/nsfw fics on this list, that’s just not my vibe lmao. this list goes in no particular order, and i’ll update it from time to time when i feel like it. now, without further ado, let us begin.

Heat Waves (complete) by tbhyourelame

(wtf else did you expect, looking at a dnf rec list?) amazingly well written, and while it’s not my favorite dnf fic it’s damn near close. in the midst of a brutal heatwave, a suffering dream comes to terms with the fact that he is desperately in love with his best friend. everything i could say about this fic has already been said by nearly everyone who’s read it, so if you haven’t yet caved into the hype, just go for it. you won’t be disappointed.

Gonna be around (completed) by georgescatcafe

(mc irl) my favorite dnf oneshot to date. just read it, i don’t wanna spoil for you :)

Inferno in the Sky (ongoing)by zairielon

(star wars au) an ongoing star wars au currently clocking in at almost 200k words. need I say more? everything about it absolutely slaps, each chapter is amazingly written, and it’s just good. also, can we just appreciate dream and tubbos dynamic in here? 10/10, amazing, must protecc. oh right, a summary: george, an exiled padawan turned engineer, must return to the jedi temple after attacks on it from an unknown assailant threaten the safety of himself and the other jedi.

Like Magic (ongoing) by KangarooKen, NotGra55 (Gra55)

(harry potter au) the unofficial official dnf harry potter au. we watch the young unlikely wizard pair grow up together throughout their years at hogwarts as they battle good old fashioned wizard racism. beautifully written, incredibly fun and suspenseful, and just an overall blast and a half.

GeorgeNotFound, Son of Poseidon, and the League of Minor Gods (ongoing) by Clichewho_69, Cygnvs, Trash_Kinggg

(percy jackson au) percy jackson au? check. “road trip” (technically quest but u get what i mean)? check. enemies to friends to lovers? check. this fic follows the plot of the lightning theif (albeit loosely), but everything is explained enough where you don’t have to read percy jackson to understand what’s going on. basically after moving to the usa, george gets taken to camp halfblood where he learns that a) gods exist. b) he’s the son of poseidon and c) he needs to prove that he didn’t steal zeus’s master bolt.

Protected (completed) by aenqua

(royalty/camelot au) my favorite piece of dnf media of all time. dubbed the official dnf camelot au, where dream is the heir to the throne and george is a servants son with a secret that couldp get him killed. these childhood friends grow up together and learn trust, love, and acceptance. (that summary did not justice to the masterpiece that is this fic) here’s the directors cut

The Hunter (completed) by HederEgo

(mc irl) a choose your own adventure fic with 13 different endings, where dream the hunter must kill george and stop him from beater the ender dragon. enough said.

The official dream team cowboy AU (series)(ongoing) by antsu_in_my_pantsu

(cowboy au) cowboys and outlaws horses and shit. and the big gay. it’s a cowboy au, what else did you expect? fucking yee haw (all seriousness this is a great read, i loved it so so so so much and i can’t wait for the final chapter to release).

This is a Drista moment, let's just accept it (completed) by Qekyo

dnf fic from drista pov. considering its unique perspective, it’s perfectly done. beautifully showcases a sibling relationship through drista and her memories/moments with dream, and it just works, y’a know? also drista supremacy.

Dear Dream (completed) by Qekyo

(wwii au) i don’t cry when watching/reading anything sad. translation: i’m a heartless bitch. however, this fic is the only exception. it caused me to cry so hard my mom walked in my room and asked if i was ok. ‘nuff said.

TECHNOlogical Wingman (completed) by Closeted_Bookworm

techno is the autocorrect ai on dreams phone, and he gains sentience. interesting concept, and the author fucking nailed it. great fic.

It Was Only a Fic (ongoing) by imagineitdear

dream starts reading a dnf fanfic (we’ve all been there buddy).

Teacher’s Pet (ongoing) by niyuha

(teacher au) in which dream is a high school english teacher and george is the new comp sci teacher in room 297.

Saltwater Secrets (ongoing) by earlgay_milktea

(mermaid/high school au) a great example of the shear amount of variety in fics this fandom has to offer. when i started reading dnf fics i would have never thought i’d find one about a mermaid george hopelessly crushing on his human friend, who happens to be his schools star swimmer. yet here i am, and i am far from disappointed.

Smash My Heart (incomplete) by dontrollthedice

george and sapnap are commentators for duper smash brothers tournaments, and george develops a crush on an up and coming smash streamer named dream.

roleplaying in the dark is harder than it seems (completed) by Alienu

laser tag. 10/10

solar system (completed) by quartzfia

(mc irl) george vists dream in pandora’s vault.

Ramblings of a Lunatic (completed) by jungkooksfic

ahh communicating through a notebook left on a shelf in a bookstore- what a perfect way to start a relationship.

Paint me like your French Girls (It's Charcoal, Actually) (completed) by Turtle_ier

(artist au) george is an art student, and dream is a model.

00:00:00 (completed) by isleofdreams

(soulmate au) 00:00:00 is the moment you meet your soulmate, as indicated but the clock ticking down on your wrist until the moment you meet. i’m not a fan of soulmate aus; this fic is the exception.

Blue Skies Smilin' At Me (completed) by kivy

(artist au) i don’t usually cry while reading stuff, but this brought me damn near close. george is a painting conservator and chats it is with the ghost of the artist if the painting he is working on. they fall in a love.

Current Location (incomplete) by hendollana

(influencer au) george simps for a hot american instagram model. who knew he’d actually follow back?

The Withering (series) (series ongoing, 1 work completed) by App1e_Juice

(mc irl) lore and world building and fight scenes and everything i crave. what’s not to love? something starts making the plants and crops around dreams village wither, and must team up with new friends to find the cause of the mysterious disease plaguing the land.

Minecraft, But You Can't Leave (complete) by facadecake

(mc irl) dream and george are sucked into their own private minecraft world together and must beat the game to escape.

Free The Game, Beat the End (incomplete) by goatgoatwasfound

(mc irl) a glitch in minecraft causes thousands of players from around the world to be trapped inside minecraft, with only one way of escape- beating the ender dragon. first dnf fic i ever read, and it’s still 10/10 for me.

Why don't you come a little closer? (completed) by lifeofandoms

george gets stood up by a date, and Dream pretends he’s the date to save george from the embarrassment. simply adorable.

lightning bug (completed) by saintachesP

(band au) while on tour, dream realizes his feeling for george.

Hold me closer (completed) by Treesofmyheart

(mc irl/dsmp) i just,, really like this trope.

Dizzy on caffeine (completed) by GleamingGreenGoggles

(coffee shop au) best dnf coffeeshop au i’ve read. periodt.

living a life of crime isn’t always easy (series) (completed) by itisjosh

(mafia/assassin au) stockholm syndrome except it’s not weird.

Inhibitions Make Interesting Situations (completed) by Ship_On_The_Sea

i pissed myself laughing. it’s just a dream and george being hilariously dense, flustered idiots. serotonin central.

thy eternal summer shall not fade (completed) by gracequills

(high school au) that moment when you recite shakespeare to your crush in your ap lit class instead of confessing (hate it when that happens).

All is Fair in love and Football (ongoing) by graciegirl2001

(college au) #1 favorite college au. in which george is a cheerleader, and dream is the football teams rising star player. this one gets extra points because of the amazing karlnap moments sprinkled throughout. *chefs kisses air*

online love (completed) by andbutso

(high school au) online classes go zoooooooom

Can’t help falling (completed) by isleofdreams

dream re-learns the guitar to sing to george on his birthday. beautiful. fluffy. amazing

dance in the rain and my arms (completed) by lazy_kitkat

george is a rain god, and dream is a wind god

Weather Boy (completed) by DaintyDiizzle

wouldn't you like to know, weather boy? (where dream can control the rain)

The color orange (completed) by anon

(mc irl) dream describes the colors of a sunset

Family Mode (completed)by Strawberry_flavoured_tears

they’re dads :,)

Breathing Room (incomplete) by papercranes

(band an) an amazing band au. the mad lad author wrote original songs for each chapter. above and beyond, mad props :). unfortunately, it’s incomplete

Piece of Clay (completed) by carbonbrine

(artist au) george is a sculptor and his sculpture comes to life- but oh no he’s hot.

Try (completed) by Not4typicalwriter

(royalty au) george must choose a suitor, but none of them are up to dream, his head knights, standards. or dream is hella jelly. also protective dream is perfect

When the Roses Bloom (completed) by HederEgo

(royalty au) close second for my favorite fic. go to royalty au for a quick serotonin bost. it’s all fluff and flowers and crushes, and i love it. criminally underrated.

Heavenstruck (ongoing) by dontrollthedice

george is dreams guardian angel, and dream want to find out more about him and his past life. bittersweet :,)

Bang and Burn (completed) by App1e_Juice

(spy au) george accidentally falls for target number 1 on sapnap’s secret agency’s hit list. this ones great, i love me a spy au :)

Can I get a uhh… (completed) by lemonskies

dream keeps pulling up to the drive through mcdonald’s that george works at drunk.

Pretty Stranger (completed) by anon

when looking for dream in the terminal, george sees a cute guy and decides to flirt.

Take my Hand (completed) by latinbias

(royalty au) another royalty au? poggers. surprise twists? double poggers. love this a lot.

seconds, minutes, hours, lifetimes (complete) by meridies

ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP *inhales to compose herself* roadtrip au. unrequited love, ignored feelings, longing, pining, you know the drill. absolutely love this one, its the best roadtrip au i have ever read, in any fandom. (maybe cause i identify with it a little too much, but thats not important. whats important is that you read this fic. right now. im waiting).

Message redacted (complete) by justyouraverageloser

(text fic) dream asks for a girls number and realises hes been given the wrong number. however, an unexpected relationship starts to form between him and the stranger on the other end of the line.

the waves (completed) by anon

(mc irl) this fic was written by the same anon who wrote the color orange, which is up there on my fav dnf oneshot list. dream and george know they have a higher purpose. they don’t know where they came from, or why they are seemingly the only humans in the world, or how they feel about eachother, or even where the skeletons come from, but they are sure of one thing: they have to beat a dragon.

The Dream Doll (completed) by PeppDream (Pep_Pizza)

(voodoo i guess) i’m a real big fan of fics with really out there or unique concepts, so naturally this one makes the cut! i really liked it, it’s really sweet and made me think a lot about what matters to me in the world. george finds a strange doll in an antique shop, and would really like to just stuff it in a drawer and forget about it. sadly (?), the doll has other plans.

last updated February 6th, 2021

[junowritings]

HELLO, DARLING 💕💕 I'm here to bust in and ask for some sweet, sweet Twst fluff! May I have some Ruggie, Azul, and Deuce reacting to thier fem!s/o protecting them in a fight?? Maybe some dude trying to swing at them and their gf gets in the way and protects them! Pls give me the good, much love and you're amazing 💕💕💕💖💖💖

First request! Thank you so much honey I am always happy to provide some peak content~! I had way too much fun with this and it shows lmao but I hope you enjoy~! 💖 💖 💖

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Ruggie

♡ Ruggie’s used to stepping on a few toes and tails with his antics - he’s a little trickster at heart but it’s all in good fun, he swears! It’s just unfortunate circumstances that perhaps one or two people sometimes get caught in the crossfire of his schemes, never anything too serious, but enough to leave more than a few people grumbling about it by the time things actually get sorted back out. Rarely do things ever actually spiral out of Ruggie’s control, and even if they do, chances are no one stays too mad at him for too long...most of the time. The times they do? They tend to get a bit out of hand.

♡ When a group of students attempt to corner him on the way back to the Savanaclaw dorm, he isn’t even sure what’s got them so heated - they start cussing him out, ranting about how he must think he’s such a wise guy, getting so cocky and not knowing his place. He’s not phased by what they say at all, if anything he’s not fussed in the slightest and would probably make a comment about them coming up with something more original if he could get a word in their bickering. It gets tiring real fast, and Ruggie’s looking for an out before these guys have even finished talking.  

♡ Sure, he could use his unique magic in this situation, but given that it would only affect one of them and more than likely piss them off even more in the process, it wouldn’t do much to save his hide right now. Three against one hardly seems like a hard fight, but if Ruggie is even remotely concerned about the odds it doesn’t show for a second, instead - chances are, they’re just gonna yell it out of their system and then storm off so he can go back to what he was doing. Arguably, that just makes them angrier, and soon enough their heated bickering becomes thinly veiled threats, as though they’re trying to rile him up into instigating something - they want a reaction, an excuse to justify starting a fight, but Ruggie’s not naive enough to fall for that trick. 

♡ When he doesn’t, one of the students finally snaps, lunging forward and snagging the collar of Ruggie’s uniform, bunching it up until he can feel knuckles pressed against his throat and he has to tilt his head up to avoid the fist curling underneath his chin. As the other hand rears back, the laid-back smile on his face becomes strained, and Ruggie squares the guy with a pointed stare as though waiting to call their bluff on actually taking a swing. He doesn’t get the chance to find out, as in the next moment the hand’s gone from his collar and Ruggie finds himself looking at the back of a blazer as a new voice joins the scene - one that he recognizes.

♡ He can’t see your face from this angle, but he can hear the hostility in your voice as you square up to the three boys, standing to your full height as you curse them out and order them to back up, asking what the hell they thought they were doing to your boyfriend. And just like that, those three hotheads dissolve into cowering pups right before his eyes, all bumbling words and awkward shifting as they try to talk their way out of the situation they’d been caught red handed in. They’re doing a poor job of it, and you’re clearly not buying it as you fold your arms and fix them with a scowl, taking a step forward as you move to completely shield Ruggie from their view. 

 ♡ Ruggie can count the amount of times someone has actively gone out of their way to protect him on one hand, so the situation is as bizarre as it is entertaining. He feels a smug kind of pride at hearing you declare the word ‘boyfriend’, and hearing the anger in your voice is enough to convince him that it’s for the best to let you handle this whole thing. Still, Ruggie just can’t help but peek over your shoulder as you tear those guys a new one, shooting them a shit eating grin and enjoying the way that their expressions twist into grimaces, pissed but unable to do anything less they risk even more of your rage.

♡ All you have to hear is one of them mention ‘putting him in his place’ for your expression to visibly darken, and all three of them know that they’ve messed up at the sight of your face. You barely even have to feign lunging at them to get all three of them to bolt, just about toppling over each other as they flee down the corridor and round the corner, effectively vanishing from your sight. Even then you wait a beat, listening out for their footsteps until you can’t hear them anymore before you allow the tension to fall from your shoulders. Ruggie thinks that’s the perfect time to chime in, resting his head on the shoulder he was peeking over as he snickers.

♡ “Shishishi~! Did you see the way they ran? Talk about spooked!”

♡ You find yourself chuckling along with him as you look at him out of the corner of your eye, watching his expression carefully before you shift around to fully face him. The first words out of your mouth are words of concern, asking him if he’s okay and if they hurt him in any way. He’s quick to brush off any of your worries, giving you a non-committal shrug and assuring you that he’s fine - he’s dealt with way worse confrontations before, so it’s not skin off his hide now that they’ve scampered off. 

♡ You’re not entirely convinced, he can see it in your face as you regard him - you seem to want to press the question on those ‘worse confrontations’, but after a moment you seem to drop it. Instead, you reach out and attempt to straighten out his collar and tie, though both are still a wrinkled mess by the time you’re finished; even so, Ruggie seems to appreciate the sentiment, and that lax grin from before is back as he slides out of your grip. He’s still gotta get back to the dorm, but it wouldn’t hurt to have company on the way back, if his new ‘bodyguard’ wants to tag along~

Azul

♡ Azul’s no stranger to people’s ire - he’s gained more than a few enemies over time, having his fair share of scorned patrons cursing his name before he’d even enrolled at Night Raven college. He’s learned quickly to gauge whether someone’s just blowing off steam or if they’re a serious threat, and he learned even quicker how to deal with those situations accordingly; after all, it’s bad business if you’re busy being hounded by clients looking for a bone to pick. He’s got countermeasures in play, and a few backup plans if things become too dicey for his liking, but he’s fortunately rarely had to use them barring one or two troublesome incidents thanks to the Leech twins.

♡ Floyd and Jade have, of course, been a big help in handling these little confrontations whenever they arise, having nipped most of them in the bud before they’ve even had the chance to darken the doors of the Monstro Lounge, so there’s been a relative peace in the place when people are there to have a good time rather than try and start fights.

♡ Things come to a head when someone actually manages to slip through into the Monstro Lounge, and Azul comes out of his office to the sound of someone shouting his name in a tone that sets the precedent that this is not going to be a peaceful interaction. He sees their face before they even turn to face him - expression twisted up in anger and hands balled at their side as they glare daggers at the other patrons, as if trying to discern if the dorm leader is sitting amongst them. Azul recognizes them immediately, and, upon realizing that the twins aren’t present in the lounge, rationalizes that it’s up to him to smooth things over before they end up disturbing the other patrons and causing too much of a disturbance. And so he plasters on his most neutral, unassuming smile, and greets the new ‘client’, watching them whip around to face him as he steps forward to talk to them.

♡ Azul already knows what they want to talk about - of course he does - he’s learned to keep track of every face that passes through those doors and his interactions with them. And yet he allows them to talk, and get what they want off of their chest; talking to them like this isn’t going to get them anywhere, and it appears they’re more in the mood for yelling than they are for actually talking. So he allows them to rant, if only to calm them down enough until he deems them rational enough to listen to what he has to say; and after a moment this seems to actually have done the trick, as the yelling soon quiets down in frustrated grumbling, and the eyes once drawn to the scene from nearby tables begin to return back to what had previously caught their attention. That’s when Azul finally speaks, extending an offer to finish this conversation back inside his office - after all, he’s sure they didn’t come here simply to make a scene when there’s a peaceful resolution to be reached, right? 

♡ It’s with that thought in mind that leads Azul to a momentary slip in judgement - turning his back on the troublesome patron and begins to walk back towards his office, expecting them to follow him. Which they do, with a raised fist. He doesn’t hear them storm after him, but what he does hear is the gasps from onlookers as they watch the person in question rear back their hand, fist aiming right for the back of his head. It should have connected - afterall, they were close enough to have landed the hit, but it never comes.

♡ Instead, a sharp shove at his back has Azul’s stumbling, and not a moment later, he’s spinning around to see what’s going on and finds an unexpected sight. The patron’s sprawled out on the floor, cradling their face in both hands and swearing up a storm as they rock back and forth, nursing what looks like a solid hit to the nose. And towering over them is none other than you, blazer discarded and sleeves rolled up to the elbows as you shake off the hit from your hands, winding up your shoulders as you stare daggers down at his would-be attacker. It doesn’t take a genius to discern what’s just happened in the span of just a few moments, but Azul’s suspicions are all but confirmed when you snap at them to just try and punch him again - watch what happens, you dare them.

♡ Anger flashes across the patron’s face, and for a second Azul truly believes that he’s about to watch a brawl break out between this troublemaker and his girlfriend as both make a move to jump the other. Thankfully for all involved, they don’t get the chance to see that show, as not a moment too soon the twins are there to intervene and split it up before any real fight begins. Jade’s hands are on your shoulder, guiding you back gently but firm enough to ensure that he can pull you away from this fight if you try to push the issue; you reluctantly follow him as he backtracks over to where Azul is standing, still grumbling about it under your breath. Floyd, on the other hand, is all too eager to take care of the one still cradling their face, sporting the beginnings of a bloody nose as they’re hoisted up onto their feet and promptly directed to the nearest exit.

♡ Azul makes a note to deal with that person later - though he’s got a sneaking suspicion that the twins are already well on their way to taking care of that in his stead as Jade leaves to rejoin his brother once you’re standing face to face with their dorm leader. For now, he turns his attention to you, watching you huff and rub idly at the hand you’d punched with as the beginnings of an apology tumble from your lips. 

♡ You didn’t mean to get involved and cause so much of a scene, but when he’d turned away and you saw the person rearing back to sock him, you were up from your table and swinging without a second thought. You couldn’t just sit there and let him get hurt, what kind of girlfriend would that make you if you did! You’d never let him get hurt as long as you were around - that was okay...right?

♡ The passion behind your voice is enough to convince him that you mean every word, and you can see his expression soften a little as he takes your hand into his own, thumb brushing over the scuffed skin of your knuckles, red marks becoming visible as a testament to the force behind your punch. Your expression twitches with a flash of discomfort - looks like you’d underestimated the force on your hand; Azul’s not surprised, going above and beyond was a penchant of yours that had gotten you this far, and perhaps what had led to you worming your way into his heart in the first place.

♡ At your expression, Azul gives your hand a pat before taking a step back, using the hold to guide you. He certainly doesn’t mind the protective streak - in fact it’s a rather endearing trait, one that deserves proper compensation in return. But the first order of business is getting that hand tended to, and Azul makes that his priority as he leads them to follow him to his office, pleased when you fall into step with him and follow his lead. 

Deuce

♡ Honestly, with how much of a protector can be over his friends, Deuce is in desperate need of someone just as willing to square up for him. He takes their safety seriously, even though part of him knows that realistically they can all take care of themselves just fine if anything actually happened. That still doesn’t stop him from wanting to step in whenever things get dicey, especially whenever it comes to you or your friends, and that either becomes a sweet sentiment, or the bane of your existence depending on how many altercations this ends up dragging him into.

♡ Maybe it's because of this that a fight was bound to break out sooner or later, but for what it’s worth, this one wasn’t actually caused because of him - it was because of Grim. That feline had a habit of breaching people’s boundaries, and sure enough it was just a matter of time before things escalated into a fight before anyone even had a chance to figure out what had even happened. Deuce wasn’t around when it happened, but the sound of yelling had caught his attention and led to him looking into the passing hallway trying to figure out what was going on. He recognized some of the voices, he swears it, and sure enough he finds the owner of those voices right in the center of the hallway, a small circle of people getting into each other's faces.

♡ Both sides are yelling, and at the sight of Ace and Grim smack-dab in the middle of the bickering, Deuce finds himself getting in-between them if only to get the one guy waving his hands around away from his friends before someone got slapped. Almost immediately there’s a hand in his face, an accusatory finger jabbed in his direction as all that anger at his friends is now squared directly on him. Deuce feels himself getting angry the more this guy screams into his face, cutting him off every time Deuce tries to get a word in; it’s clear that he’s not going to get any answers from this guy any time soon, so he calls to his friends behind him, ignoring the shout of ‘Hey, don’t ignore me!’ directed at him as he does so.

♡ Deuce looks away for a second, talking to Ace over his shoulder to try and find out what started this whole thing in the first place, when he feels someone grab a fistful of hair and yanks. Pain blossoms through his scalp and he hisses, a hand flying up to snag the wrist of the guy and wrenching it forward, digging his fingers in to force him to let go only for the hand to grip tighter. There’s another sharp tug, and Deuce can see Ace and Grim diving forward to help him from the corner of his eye, their shouts of protest only seeming to anger the guy more as they round in on him.

♡ But someone else gets there first, and just like that the hand is being wrenched from Deuce’s hair and he hears something go sliding across the floor. Turns out it’s the guy, whose expression is a mix of anger and bafflement as he tries desperately to reach for something behind him - no, someone. There’s a hand wound into the back of the guy’s blazer, hoisted up enough that he has to arch to go along with the item of clothing. The guy tries to reach behind him, but every time another hand peeks out from behind him to swat it away with ease, eliciting frustrated whines when the guy realizes he’s stuck.

♡ Deuce’s face must be priceless as he takes in the scene, watching a familiar head duck out from around the guys shoulder and flash him a grin, giving him a thumbs up. He hadn’t even seen you in the crowd, did you jump in when you saw him getting hurt? A part of him feels bad that you’d seen it happen in the first place, but that’s soon quashed when you turn your focus back to the guy who’d swung, who by this point had lost the gumption to keep swinging and was now just waiting for you to release your grip.

♡ You give it a few more seconds for good measure, before you allow your hold to loosen and you step away, still giving the guy a cautious glance as you move to stand in front of Deuce, Ace and Grim in a protective stance. There’s a beat of tenseness, waiting to see if the fight is going to start back up again, but when the group starts backtracking, retreating to who knows where else, it’s clear that at least for now things have been resolved. And with that out of the way, you turn your attention back to the boys, sticking Grim a pointed stare as you huff out that you’re talking to him about this later. 

♡ Then you turn your focus over to Deuce, and he immediately straightens up under your attention waiting for some kind of comment about the confrontation, or maybe a warning for him to be more careful. You take his face into your hands, and though confused, he follows along with your movements as you urge him to look down; he doesn’t know what you’re doing until he feels a hand smooth through his hair, easing the tousled hair back into place as you ask him if it still stings. Your tone is soft, and Deuce finds himself flushing as he hurriedly reassures you that it doesn’t hurt - it’s fine, really! You’re not entirely swayed, but the moment is broken when you hear Grim make a gagging noise telling you to stop being so weird. And just like that your attention is back onto Grim again, fully prepared to choke him with that damn bow as Deuce straightens back up, carding a hand through his hair and trying to will away the pink flush beginning to rise to his cheeks.

[javier-pena]

alone

Chapter 1 of The Hunt

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Rating: Mature (for now but that will - spoilers! - change eventually)

Summary: When your best friend and companion is abducted by a group of outlaws, you hire a Mandalorian to help track down the men and get your revenge. What seems like a simple enough task stretches into a month-long trek through inhospitable terrain while both you and the Mandalorian are trying to come to terms with events in your past you cannot change. Set after Season 2.

Warnings: mentions (and short descriptions) of death, murder, and torture | a lot of hurt and no comfort | mentions of loss | mild to moderate language | a lot - and I mean A LOT - of talk about Din’s hands lmao

Notes: This is my first attempt at a Mandalorian fic and the first time in months I’ve written anything. It’s vaguely inspired by my favorite western movies, True Grit (1969/2010), The Quick and the Dead (1995), and The World to Come (2020). So yes, this is going to be very much like a western. I also want to - again - thank Dani @javierpcna​ who was like “are you writing Mandalorian stuff?” about a month ago and has, since then, read through this chapter more often than me and encouraged me to continue to write it and offered so much valuable insight whenever I came to her with an idea ... seriously, Dani, this fic wouldn’t exist without you and I hope I can find a way to repay you! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this first chapter (I’m already working on the second one) ...

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The day the Mandalorian arrives on Alvorine is the day you lose your best friend. You’re still busy putting out the fire, running your soot-blackened hand across your face, where the dirt mingles with the tears you’re too tired to stop from streaming down your face, when you hear the thrusters of a spacecraft roaring above you. You barely glance up; you can’t be bothered to. It could be the remnants of the Empire looking for recruits, it could be the New Republic looking for the remnants of the Empire, or it could be the bandits coming back for more. But what do you care? They already took away the one person you care most about in the galaxy. You just grip the shovel tighter and drive it into the soil so you can choke the fire underneath moist stones and dirt.

While you exhaust your body with physical labor, you occupy your mind with thoughts of revenge. Revenge as dark and quenching as the soil beneath you. With every load of dirt you heave onto the searing flames, your plan gains another sharp edge until all you can think of is driving the cutting edge down onto the throat of the man who gripped Brea’s arm and pulled her onto the speeder bike. Maybe his head would come off right away, maybe your tool would just obstruct his windpipe as you watch the life drain slowly out of his eyes. And even that would be too good an end for that monster.

It’s not just in your mind – those thoughts aren’t simply there to ground you while you continue your work in the ruins of what was once your home. It’s not pure fantasy, something to give you back a feeling of control. You are determined to follow through on it; you are going to hunt down these men who burned down your farm and stole Brea from you. You will not rest until they are all dead by your hand. And if you should die in the process … then you won’t go out without a fight, without taking as many of those bastards with you as you can. They have sealed their own fate by coming here today.

You know Brea isn’t dead; they won’t kill her unless she tries to kill one of them first. And she wouldn’t do that, she is too gentle for that, too docile. She would rather turn the other cheek. They should have taken you instead; she doesn’t deserve the fate that awaits her. You would’ve at least put up a fight, make them pay for what they did. And Brea? She would just die.

For now, she’s alive. But whatever you set out to do once you’re done here won’t be a rescue mission. You aren’t under the illusion you can save her. You know that even if you were to leave right now, even if you had your own speeder bike, you would never find her in time. No, this possibility hasn’t even crossed your mind. All you want to do is cause these men more pain than they caused you. You know it is impossible because you cannot imagine anything worse, but you sure as hell will do your best.

You straighten your back, drive the shovel into the ground, and use it as support while you try to catch your breath. The air burns in your lungs, and not just from the cold. There is also the steadily rising black smoke that makes breathing hard; your throat stings, so do your sides, and there is a bitter taste in your mouth. But you’re almost finished here, you’re almost done putting out the fire, so it won’t endanger the surrounding forest. And with every flame you bury, you also bury a piece of your soul until you feel like there is nothing left that makes you human, until all the pain and despair you’re feeling since listening to Brea’s screams grow quieter and quieter until they were swallowed up by silence has turned into a cold, brazen cry for revenge. But you’re glad this has made you less forgiving, less kind, less … human. Those things would only get in the way of the task ahead of you.

As the last flames go out with a wet hiss, one of Alvorine’s three blue white suns vanishes behind the treetops. You know the other two will be quick to follow. And you don’t have anywhere to spend the night. You wouldn’t mind sleeping with your back propped against a tree. You’ve done it often enough. But it’s winter, and the air is already cold and will be even colder once the other two suns set too. And you just lost every blanket, every single piece of fabric that could keep you warm in a small inferno. You know this is just an excuse, a comforting lie you tell yourself. The truth is you cannot spend a minute longer on this clearing, even if that means you have to walk the four miles to the next settlement. You’re so exhausted you cannot feel your legs, but you don’t care. Anything is better than spending the night here, even collapsing in the middle of the dark forest.

You leave the shovel where you stand and walk to the edge of the clearing, swallowing around the lump in your throat, trying to hold down more tears that are threatening to spill over and down your cheeks. Once you reach the edge of the forest, where the air is a bit clearer, you take a deep breath and turn around to look at the ruins of your home, now nothing more than a black pile of rubble. You have nothing, nothing but the clothes you’re wearing, not even a small trinket to remind you of Brea and the many happy hours you spent here tending to your fields, sweeping the front porch or sitting around the fireplace sharing supper. Even remembering how you worked on menial chores now feels like the most precious memory, one you will hold onto until your last breath. Because even though they have taken everything from you, they can’t take away the memory of Brea’s laugh.

***

They stare at you as you enter the inn. They stare and then look away. They can’t bear your presence because it reminds them of their own guilt. Not one of them came to your aid this morning, not one of them came afterwards to offer help. And you ignore them too because there is nothing left to say. All you want is some food and a dry place to sleep before you turn your back on them forever.

You sit down at a small table in a dark corner. The patrons around you either turn their backs to you or stand up to move their meals and conversations someplace else. It’s as if you’ve been marked. If you had any strength left in you, you would call them out on their behavior. Shit, you would wreak havoc, and only stop when the last one of them is on their knees begging for forgiveness. But you’re glad you’re too exhausted because your sudden hatred for everyone and everything scares you. The villagers don’t deserve to fall victim to your rage. There is nothing they could’ve done. They are just as defenseless and helpless as you. Would you have come to their aid if your positions were reversed? You would like to think so, but just because it gives you a false sense of moral superiority. Deep down you know the truth. Deep down you know you would hide too, praying that you would be spared.

As you dig into your bowl of soup, you realize how hungry you are. Even though everything tastes like ash in your mouth, your stomach is glad to have something to clench around when your thoughts stray to this morning’s events again. And you know there’s no need to punish yourself by refusing your body the nourishment it needs. The opposite, in fact – you know you’ll need all the strength you can get if you’re really going after them.

As you swallow one ashy bite after the other, you let your eyes wander around the room, looking for something that will distract you from your thoughts and your feelings of guilt. Everyone avoids your gaze; everyone acts as if your corner is empty. Everyone … except one stranger.

He sits in a booth close to the bar, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze on you. Or at least you think he’s looking at you – he’s wearing a helmet that covers his entire head, the kind you’ve seen twice before in this corner of the galaxy. He’s a Mandalorian, a bounty hunter, and his presence here doesn’t really surprise you. Even though actually seeing one is a rare occurrence, stories about them are countless.

Alvorine is a planet without laws, a planet that lives by its own rules, so many criminals decide to hide out here while they wait for their crimes to be forgotten. There is no military presence on the planet, no judicial system, no one to catch and punish the wrongdoers. The planet follows the rules of whoever is in charge, which changes frequently, but none of the powerful people have enough resources to enforce those rules anyway. Disputes are often just settled by the parties involved in whatever way they see fit. Only the Mandalorians, who are hired by people on other worlds, by people who have never experienced what it is like to live on Alovrine, are brave enough to get involved in those disputes. You have to admit you do feel a tiny bit curious as to why that particular Mandalorian is here ... who hired him? And who is he hunting?

You tentatively let your gaze wander over his stoic body, over the beskar covering his arms and chest, over the bandolier wrapped around his upper body, over the visor hiding his eyes. If you had one like him on your side, you wouldn’t need to worry about getting your revenge. He would catch those men in the blink of an eye. And if you paid him enough, he would do to them whatever you wanted.

He would cut off their limbs but keep them alive long enough to feel it.

He would make them run for it, give them the illusion of hope, only to crush it like their bones.

He would let you watch, let you choose whatever punishment you saw fit.

You shift in your seat because you can almost smell the blood, you can hear a faint echo of their screams, and it makes you feel light-headed and nauseous, but also elevates you, lifts a weight off your shoulders, even if just for a brief moment.

But he’s not here to do your bidding. And when you lift your head again, he’s gone.

You finish your bowl of soup and then decide to rent a room upstairs for the night. You don’t have a place to stay anymore and it’s too dangerous to start your pursuit while it’s dark. The forest belongs to dangerous creatures during the night, more dangerous than any man out there. And you’re planning on staying alive for just a little while longer.

You stretch and yawn and move to get up when your path is suddenly blocked. It happens so fast you don’t register anything at first apart from the cold, hard beskar chest plate that is level with your face. Its unexpected appearance makes you lose your balance and you fall back down onto the bench you’ve been sitting on. The Mandalorian extends his hand, his fingers closing around thin air. It’s a half-hearted attempt to stop your fall, and it comes too late – your backside has already painfully collided with the hard wood.

“May I join you?” His voice sounds distorted through the modulator in his helmet. He sounds like a machine, not like a being with a heartbeat.

You want to tell him no, want to tell him to fuck off, but for tonight you have no fight left in you. So you nod.

He sits down and you expect to hear the clink of his armor, expect to feel a tremor when his heavy body comes to rest on a stool opposite you. But there is no sound, no movement, and the lack makes you sit up straighter. This isn’t just another cowardly villager you can get rid of by glaring at him … this is an apex predator.

You swallow with some difficulty. “Can I help you?” you ask, your voice level, your eyes resting on his glove-clad hands lying on the table. You figure you’re safe as long as you can see them.

At first, he doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you. Or at least you think he’s looking at you. You cannot see his eyes behind the tinted visor. No matter how uncomfortable the situation makes you feel, you try not to move … you try not to show any sign of weakness, to give him any excuse to lunge across the table and strangle you.

Finally, he answers. “I’m looking for work.”

Now you cannot help but move. You exhale sharply, and with that release of breath comes a release of tension as you slump backwards, your back hitting the wall behind you. You cross your arms over your chest. “I can’t help you,” you say. You don’t have any work to offer him, no work worthy of the skills of a Mandalorian who usually hunts down important people, kings, merchants, people who influence the course of the galaxy’s history. Following a few lowly bandits is not the work he’s used to. You don’t even want to tell him about it because you know he’d take it as an insult. And even if - by some miracle - your quest for revenge would be deemed a worthy cause in the eyes of the Mandalorian, you couldn’t afford his services.

The slightest movement of his helmet is the only reaction your answer gets out of him. Whether he shifts because he’s surprised or because he’s angry, or whether his scalp itches under the metal you cannot tell.

Still, you feel the need to explain yourself. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any money.”

Shit, that’s the wrong thing to say. It implies you have work for him, but that you’re too poor to pay him. For all you know, this could be a grave insult in Mandalorian society.

His fingers on the table clench around thin air again. “What can you offer?” he asks.

He doesn’t want to know about the job, the quarry as you know they call it. No, he just wants to know how much he can earn.

“240 credits,” you answer. It’s all you have. You won’t need it anymore.

He tilts his head and you expect him to refuse, but then he says, “That’s enough.”

You’re taken aback, surprised. He’s caught you off-guard. You were fully prepared to see him walk away at hearing the ridiculously low amount of money you just offered. “You don’t even know what the job is,” you protest. The last thing you need is a Mandalorian hunting you down because you’re not paying him enough.

“They told me,” he says with a nod behind him.

You follow the movement with your eyes and see heads whip to the side, gazes wandering downwards, you notice conversations being picked up again. White hot fury fills you, more powerful than the flames that destroyed your house.

“They had no right,” you press out through clenched teeth.

The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything. He sits still like a statue, unwavering, as you fight a small battle with yourself. You should leave without looking back. Messing with a Mandalorian is even more dangerous than the task ahead of you. But he’s offering you something invaluable, something no amount of credits can get you: a chance. If you go alone, you’ll be dead in about a week. There’s no use pretending you’ll get out of it alive. But if you accept the Mandalorian’s help – his services, you have to remind yourself – you might make it through two. You might get to see your dreams of revenge become reality.

You sigh deeply as a heavy weariness settles over you. You’re exhausted, and now that all the adrenaline has left your body, you can feel all the small cuts and bruises today’s labors have left behind. And you feel empty … cold and empty, and utterly alone.

The Mandalorian still doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t defend the villagers, he doesn’t tell you what he knows about you or the job, he doesn’t try to persuade you to take him up on his offer, nor does he walk away from it. He just sits there and waits for you to make up your mind, as if it’s all the same to him. And it probably is. Either he goes with you and earns some money, or he doesn’t and looks for work elsewhere. He is completely detached from the whole affair. There is no emotional investment, just a job that needs to be done.

He doesn’t care if you live or die, he just cares if you pay him or not.

This realization is what finally helps you make up your mind. “I want to hire you,” you say, your tongue heavy in your mouth. All you really want is to sleep.

There is no reaction for the longest time but then the Mandalorian nods. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to say something, give him details or explain the specifics of the job to him. But before you can decide what to say next, he stands abruptly.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” he says before turning around.

Your brain needs a moment to catch up but when it does, you’re already on your feet. “Wait,” you say, and to your surprise the broad, steel-clad man listens to you.

He doesn’t face you, but he stops.

You briefly consider asking him if you can accompany him, but you don’t. You don’t have to ask, you get to decide.

“I’m coming with you,” you tell him.

You tell a stranger, a dangerous one at that, one who makes his money by making other people’s lives a living hell, that you will travel with him through dark, deserted forests where no one will stop him from taking what he wants from you instead of earning it, where no one will come to your aid should he not honor the deal you apparently just made with him. And you don’t care. Because no matter what he will do to you, it can’t be worse than what has already been done.

But all your worries and fears focus in on just one tiny aspect of this whole, fucked-up situation when he says, “I work alone.”

You don’t want to negotiate. This shouldn’t even be up for debate. You’re his employer now, you get to decide how things are done. But if you insist on this, he could just walk away from you. And you cannot let that happen now that you’ve had an idea of what it would be like to have a Mandalorian on your side.

“We’re not a team,” you say. “Think of me as an interested party. As someone who is fascinated by your work.”

You’re not sure if that is the right thing to say. His shoulders move, but he still doesn’t turn around. When he speaks again, you know it was the wrong thing to say.

“I work alone or not at all.”

You don’t want to accept that. You want to be there when those men are punished for what they did. You don’t want to wait around for the Mandalorian to come back, not when you don’t have anywhere to wait around in. You’ve lost everything. Had he talked to the villagers as he claims, he would know this. Or maybe he does. Maybe he knows you lost your home today but doesn’t care. He doesn’t even know the definition of the word home. It means nothing to him.

You take a deep breath. “Then I won’t be needing your services.”

This finally makes him turn around. Everything in you screams for you to take a few steps back, to put yourself out of his reach. You can feel the atmosphere between you shift – he draws back his shoulders, makes himself even taller than he already is. And you know, you just know, that refusing his offer, that backtracking on your agreement is the worst mistake you made tonight.

You’re pretty sure that not honoring a deal is the worst insult to a Mandalorian.

“Going alone will be your death,” he says when you cannot bear the tension a second longer.

“What’s it to you?”

The words are out. They are a challenge, one you didn’t mean to make, one you shouldn’t have made, but it’s done now. Your hand begins to tremble, and your feet grow cold with fear as you prepare yourself for his reaction. You don’t know if he will hit you, tie you up, torture you, or just kill you on the spot. He could do all of these things without having to fear any repercussions. You curse yourself for not having been more careful, for making this fatal mistake, because now Brea will go unavenged. Just because you couldn’t keep your damn mouth shut, just because you’re stubborn and hot-headed and oh so stupid.

But to your surprise, the Mandalorian shrugs. He lifts his broad shoulders, then lowers them again as your eyes follow the movement. But he’s not giving you anything more: He doesn’t insist on going alone, he doesn’t turn around and leave, he just keeps standing opposite you, motionless, emotionless, until you’re convinced you imagined the shrug.

So you decide to make the next move by removing yourself from this situation before he changes his mind and drags you back to his ship to do whatever he wants to you. You take a deep breath and start to step around him, a movement that is almost impossible to complete in this small space you’re both in. But you attempt it, nevertheless. When you’re level with him, doing your best not to brush up against him so you won’t enrage him, you hear his voice. It’s just one sentence, four words, but for some reason it sounds so much more human than it did when he was opposite you. Maybe it has something to do with the distance between his helmet and your ear, maybe it’s the angle from which the sounds hit your eardrums or maybe it’s because you feel light-headed, dizzy with the realization he hasn’t killed you yet and probably won’t.

He says, “Have it your way.”

You stop right next to him, staring ahead at a group of three men who do their best not to look at you. But you don’t see them anyway. In fact, you don’t see anything at all because the rushing sound in your ears drowns out everything else, even other senses.

“You can come with me,” he says, and it’s the first time he has spoken two sentences in a row. “But you do as I say.” Three. “If I tell you to run, you run.” Four. “If I tell you to get out of the way, you do so.” Five. “And if I tell you to kill, you kill.” Six.

Then nothing, just the faint sound of his deep breaths through the modulator.

Your thoughts are racing, tripping over their own feet like children running down a hill, and they’re unbearably loud. Everything is loud suddenly, from the sound of the barkeep filling a glass to the way that woman over there is chewing her food. The only thing that’s quiet is the last one you would have suspected to be so: the Mandalorian. Now he is waiting for you to say something and as he does, he balls his hand into a fist and then releases the tension again, over and over like a nervous tic, like he needs an outlet for the tension in his body, the tension you have no idea he is feeling until you see his arm flex beneath the fabric covering it.

But, once more, you’re at war with yourself. You don’t know what to tell him. There is still that shimmer of hope on the horizon, the light that makes you believe you stand a chance if you bring him along. But his terms … you’re not sure if you can accept them. He doesn’t know Alvorine or the men you would be hunting half as well as you do. And you’ve never been one for following orders. So if you feel that his assessment of a situation is wrong, you’re not sure you’ll be able to run just because he tells you to.

You have a feeling that defying his orders would be the most dangerous thing you could ever do, even more dangerous than hunting down a group of ruthless bandits who like to torture and kill for fun.

“All right,” you say finally.

His fist unclenches one last time and he exhales slowly.

“But when we find them,” you swallow hard, once, but your mouth is completely dry, “I get to decide what happens to them.”

The Mandalorian turns toward you so abruptly that you almost lose your balance. You lean back and hit your elbow on the wall behind you. The pain makes you curse under your breath.

“Agreed,” he whispers. He sounds like a machine again, as if everything that makes him human is shut away beneath that cold, hard, invaluable beskar steel. You too feel cold suddenly, cold and afraid. “But until then you do as I say. Understood?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. He is too close to you, and drowns out everything else, even the sounds that you considered to be too loud mere seconds ago. If he wouldn’t be wearing a helmet, you would be able to feel his breath on your cheek. He takes up your field of vision almost entirely. You’ve never felt more on display, and yet more hidden. And you know that if you say the wrong thing now, it will have terrible consequences.

So you just nod again.

“We leave in the morning,” he tells you, then turns around suddenly and leaves, his cape trailing behind him.

All sounds come rushing back at once, as if you’ve just emerged out of a pool of water. You release your breath quickly, only now realizing you’ve been holding it. Then you slump back against the wall, a shaking, quivering mess.

***

tag list: @bella-ciao​, @filthybookworm​, @frannyzooey​, @khalysa​, @leannawithacapitala​, @mothandpidgeon​, @mrsparknuts​, @mxsamwilson​, @piscespussybabe​, @something-tofightfor​

[a-supernatural-writer]

hcs for poly! tlb with a fem! s/o who’s style is dark academia and is really blunt/logical and smart. she basically gives off a ‘mysterious, quiet, dark, critical’ vibe (she also doesn’t really know how to handle people who are extremely emotional and she doesn’t know how to soothe someone. she’s just really oblivious/clueless when it comes to others feelings). i’m so sorry if what i requested doesn’t make sense or if it was too much. i am seriously incapable of writing anything without making it look like an essay lmao. love your work btw 💕✨

Dark Academia Fem! S/O 

Poly Lost Boys x Fem reader

I had so much fun writing this! I love the dark academia aesthetic! And it made perfect sense and it wasn’t too much! Having a lot actually helps me expand and write more so thank you. And I’m the same, once I have an idea, I write a lot, so you’re all good! And awww!!! Thank you!!! 💗💗✨✨ I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy!

Okay, so you are very different compared to the large number of characters on the boardwalk. Your style consisted of button shirts, sweaters or turtle necks, dress pants or a plaid pleated skirts, cardigans or waistcoats, oxford shoes or even wire framed glasses if you wore them for seeing or just for the look. 

To say that you caught the boys attention would be an understatement. You seemed to stand out amongst the crowd and they became curious. You were a mystery to them and they love the challenge. 

Somehow, someway, after days or weeks later, you became good friends which soon lead to you dating four trouble making punks. It was tough on both parts, but it happened, and hey, you weren’t complaining. 

You were very blunt when you first met them, not really interested in them and more or less interested in the book in your hands. It took a lot of “accidental” run ins to even get you to hang out with them. 

You slowly opened up when they offered to take you out for dinner at a local diner. They’re constant joking soon had you letting out small, almost whisper-like giggles and tiny smiles that sent them into a frenzy. 

When you would start talking about yourself, your ideas of fun were different from theirs. You liked museums, opera houses, bookstores and going to theaters to see plays. The games you played were chess and cards, and the music you listened to was old. You were pretty sure they thought you were boring but you actually peaked their interest. 

After a while of being friends with them, they asked you out. You liked them and the only logical step was to see if you liked them the same way they liked you was to date them, so you said yes. 

In general, them having a girlfriend with a 1940s/1950s dark prep look was fun. David and Dwayne like it the most. Paul next, then Marko. 

David actually really likes picking out your clothing on most days. You have an extensive collection of clothing with material from cashmere to linen, all the colors consisting of browns, black, cream and even a little dark green. 

His favorite thing to put you in is trench coats. Doesn’t matter what color it is, he just likes seeing you in them. Also, there are a handful of times that he has MADE you wear his trench coat. Yeah it almost swimmed on you, but he thought it made you look cute and it fit in perfectly with your look. 

Dark academia isn’t only your style, but it’s your way of life. David is the one that plays chess with you. You had to reteach it to him and pretty soon, the two of you had your own little set up in the cave that was always ready for a game of chess. 

David is sort of like you… in a way when it comes to others feelings. But deep down he knows that he really likes you and tries to show it the best he can. He took you to a theater to see a play that you were constantly talking about and so he took you on a date. You being you, didn’t realize that’s what it was until he told it straight to your face. Let’s just say you were speechless for the next hour. 

Also, when it’s just the two of you, deep inside the cave where your nest is, classical music is playing from your record player. It could be Beethoven, Tchaikovsky or Mozart. Whoever it is, David is the one that will listen to it with you the most. I think he really enjoys classical music and he enjoys it even more if the two of you are cuddling in your bed. 

Occasionally Dwayne would join the two of you. You would be sitting in between David’s legs as Dwayne sat in between yours, his head leaning back against your chest. It was like a cuddle pile… cuddle train?? Whatever you wanted to call it, it was cuddling while the three of you relaxed listening to classical music. And it was darn cute. 

Dwayne loves listening to you go on and on about any books you were reading at the moment. Whether or not it was nonfiction or even about any type of history. He was down. He lived through a lot and he knew about half of the stuff you gushed on about, but for some odd reason, it never bored him when you talked about it. 

He would be the one to get you new books, leaving you sweet little notes tied to them. Of course you thought it was just him being nice and thanked him for it without thinking there was any romantic meaning behind it. Yeah he was one of your boyfriends but it never really crossed your mind that way. He would just shake his head at your obliviousness and give you a small peck on the lips. 

Don’t ask him why, but his favorite look on you is a light cream colored blouse with a plaid skirt and Mary Jane shoes. Dwayne is a leg man so… he’s very happy when decide to show off some skin if you decide not to wear knee-socks or stockings with it. Even if you did wear them, he would still be attached to your side the entire night. 

Like David, Dwayne would bring you out to a lot of places that were opened late at night. If there was an art exhibition in town or even a museum that was open late, just say the word and he will happily drive you on his bike. Heck, David might even tag along. 

Also, late night bookstore dates… oh my heart, it’s too sweet it hurts. There are times that he does have to throw you over his shoulder when the bookstore is closing and you're pretty much refusing to leave. When he does that, you just stay frozen over his shoulder, not knowing if you should be blushing or cursing at him for carrying you like a sack of potatoes. 

If anything, you and Dwayne connect very well. You’re naturally very quiet and so is he. Not much is said between you two but there's a mutual understanding that can’t be explained. While the others are out causing trouble, you and him are on the sidelines watching hand in hand or your reading and he's just staring at you as you do so. 

Paul and Marko kind of give you whiplash. They’re loud and rowdy and definitely 100% opposite from you. But they interested you. They had a very chaotic outlook on life which made you ask many questions. 

Paul found your look sexy. He’s horny and you give off preppy school vibes, he’s living for it 24/7. Constant teasing of you giving him ‘private lessons’ which results with you whacking a book against the back of his head. But it doesn’t stop the reddening of your ears which doesn’t make him stop.  

This man is also your designated jewelry expert. You only wear some accessories and they're very simple. So you are very surprised when Paul finds you jewelry that is your style and collects it for you. You like leather watches, guess what, he’s got it for you. You want some fancy victorian looking brooches, he’s got that too. Simple rings with a single jewel in the middle, expect constant ‘will you marry me’ jokes, but he gets you the best.

Also, he’s not overly big into your music selection. He does try to get you into his type of music, which you only like very few and far between. But when you do get him to listen to your type of music, it’s only if you agree to listen to his music the next night. You guys come up with a system and decide to switch every few nights. 

Each of the boys have their favorite look on you and Paul's is when you wear a button-up of any color with a simple black tie, a pencil skirt and a pair of Dr.Marten boots. He especially likes the tie… for reasons. God damn it, you know the reasons, get out of here. 

He’s a very affectionate boy and he finds your looks over confusion some of the cutest shit he’s ever seen. Probably the first one to tell you that he loves you and you honestly like glitched out. Did you feel the same way? Yes, but poor little thing you doesn’t say it right away, but Paul knows that you aren’t really used to saying things like that without warming up to it. Which is okay. He knows even if you don’t say it. 

He definitely steals one of your blazers to put pins on it. Marko helps, putting a few patches on it that they both know you would like. It’s the one item that stands out in all of your clothing and you will wear it if they ask you to. 

Marko definitely thinks the look is cute and it suits you very well, but why no color?! You wear dark colors but nothing bright like the colors that are on his jacket. He tries to slip in some colorful clothing into your everyday look, it never goes as planned but you give him an A for effort. 

He loves how dark you can be at times though. You want to go to a local graveyard just because? Sure! Let’s go! He’s your designated graveyard buddy. You have many date nights there, looking at all the different gravestones and finding it interesting when you jot down some names in one of your notebooks. 

Speaking of notebooks, you have many of them. They were filled with notes from books you’ve read, real life observations or even just some random poetry and short stories that you wrote. Marko would go through them a lot and even sometimes draw little doodles or rough sketches that were thought up from your writings. 

When you spend nights down at the Boardwalk, your go to drink isn’t a slushie or a milkshake or even a soda. It’s coffee or tea. Yeah, and only Marko knows your drink orders by heart. None of the others seem to remember them correctly which you thank them for trying but Marko has got them all beat. 

Marko likes seeing you in sweaters and in your trousers or linen shorts with chelsea boots. If anything, when the two of you are alone, just wearing a knit sweater and shorts were perfect for him. He likes how cozy and warm you look. He’s very happy when he cuddles you and you are warm. 

Now when they tell you that they’re vampires, you think that they’re joking. Vampires aren’t real, they’re a work of fiction. Yes there was a real man named Dracula, but there was no way that they were actual vampires. 

Then they showed you hard proof and then there was no denying it at that point. Instead of running away, you were fascinated. You wanted to understand your boyfriends vampire ways that lead to you conducting extensive research and a notebook dedicated to them. 

They showed you everything about them, how they feed, to which you didn’t bat an eyelash of watching them feed one night. You were one morbid chick but they saw that as a plus that you didn’t react. You had graveyard dates for crying out loud, nothing really surprised them at that point.

Flying came next and they had a lot of fun showing you just how high they could go with you in their arms. You never screamed at the height, you were too caught up in seeing the overhead view of the town. You could get used to seeing a view like that every night.  

Then came the other things; how they slept before you came along, what actually hurt them and what didn’t. There was one time that you stared at their vampire faces for hours because you were taking notes on how their facial features changed. 

Soon you had to stock up on more turtlenecks because of the many bite marks they would leave behind from feeding on you if the weather was bad one night. It wasn’t tough adapting to their occasional feeding. A lot of your clothing already covered up your skin so it was easy to hide from people on your nights out. 

Not too long after, they popped the question. Would you want to be a vampire? Live forever, never grow up? Be with them for all eternity? You didn’t really need to think about it for too long, you knew what your answer was and so did they even if you didn’t say it out loud. You loved your boys and not much would change.

When you did change, it was entertaining for them to watch. You soon started taking down notes about your progress, comparing and contrasting your experience to their own. 

To the eyes of many, you became even more dark and mysterious. You had an aura around you that drew people in, it’s what got you your four vampire boyfriends, only now, it brought in your meal for the night.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 290: It’s Touya Time

Previously on BnHA: Iida and Hadou showed up like a couple of Pennsylvanias and Georgias to bail Shouto out at the last minute. Ochako and Toga had an exceptionally strange fight which consisted of Toga being all “guess what Ochako, I used your quirk to murder someone, how do you feel about that”, and Ochako being all “I do not like that”, to which Toga was all “:(”. There was some doll-stealing and some bookcase-yeeting, and then Toga left in tears because Ochako was all adamant that murder has consequences. Anyway so I have absolutely no idea what Toga is thinking now, but I guess we’ll have some time to stew on it, because we ended the chapter by cutting back to the Iida+Hadou+Shouto VS Afomura battle, which was interrupted by Gigantomachia and the LoV showing up like a bunch of Floridas to ruin everyone’s nice day.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi hands the mic over to Dabi and is all “take it away, kid.” Over in Room 315 of Musutafu General, Rei is all “may I please watch some TV” and the hospital staff is all “sure”, and so she tunes in just in time to catch Todoroki Touya’s Peabody Award-winning documentary “Number One Hero, Number One Fraud: The Todoroki Enji Story”, which is being broadcast nationwide courtesy of Skeptic and his magic laptop. Meanwhile in Jakku, Dabi is all “I’M TOUYA, BITCHES”, and Shouto and Enji are all, “(゜◇゜ )”, and Dabi is all, “anyway so just to sum it all up, because of how much of a jerk Endeavor was, I am now Evil.” Everyone continues to be all “(ﾟoﾟ)” except for Dabi, who is all “└(˘▾˘┌ )≡ ( ┐˘▾˘)┘≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛≡┏( ˘▾˘)┓≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛” for pretty much the rest of the chapter. Idk. Just let the man have his fun, guys. He’s waited a long time for this.

y’all I have a confession to make. I am technically not spoiled for this chapter thanks to my robustly paranoid system of spoiler-tag-filtering, which is extensive enough that it pretty much will catch whenever someone so much as breathes something even remotely new-chapter-related. that being said, I like to think that I am capable of making basic logical inferences! and so the fact that for the past 36 hours, my dashboard has pretty much nonstop consisted almost entirely of this...

...has led me to conclude that MAYBE, POSSIBLY, PROBABLY, BUT ALSO DEFINITELY, a certain someone is finally going to reveal his ~secret identity~ woop woop. lmao

anyway so everyone, please remember to act surprised though, as we would not want Dabi’s feelings to be hurt at all. he has been planning this moment for the last decade or so and I wouldn’t want him to feel like all of that effort was for naught. so just play along, okay. OH MY, IF IT ISN’T THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS’ MYSTERIOUS DABI. WHATEVER COULD HIS ARRIVAL POSSIBLY BE HERALDING, I JUST DON’T KNOW

“Dabi’s Dance” lmao. I’m sticking with Touya Time myself. ngl I had this recap title planned out for at least the past year or so. just waiting for that day to finally come

anyway so some people in some building somewhere are all “TURN OFF THE TV IN ROOM 315” and idk. I’m guessing the LoV is hacking the airwaves to livestream the reveal, as predicted

-- oh shit. UHHHHHHHH

did she always have this TV or did she get it just recently?? jfc of all the times for the hospital staff to finally loosen up

um... so that’s... (・＿・；)

well but I mean, she was gonna find out one way or the other at some point though. like you can’t really just keep her locked up and isolated from all news of the outside world forever and ever and ever. granted, this isn’t exactly the ideal way for her to learn this particular bit of information, but it’s not really ideal for anybody else either! EXCEPT DABI, THAT IS. have yourself a day you funky little terrorist

oh shit what is this?? it’s not live???

over in Jakku, a red-faced, sputtering Dabi makes a frantic grab for Skeptic’s laptop. “WAIT, NO, JESUS, NOT THAT TAPE!”

lol. but seriously Dabi are you even wearing a shirt. like I’m not one to slutshame anyone bro, but it’s just, exactly what type of mood were you looking to set here??

anyway so we really are cutting back to Jakku now, and Gigantomachia is all, “MASTERS”! which, I wonder if he really did use the plural? that’s right Machia, both of them in one place now! that sure is convenient for you huh

lol what is this with all this AFO monologuing. you’re really gonna make me read through this when I’m sitting here all sleep-deprived from election week. JUST GET TO THE TOUYAS. WE WERE PROMISED TOUYAS!!

sigh

“tee hee it’s fucking hilarious how goddamn powerful I am now lol”

alas, in spite of myself I do have two serious takeaways from this. one is that AFO is still controlling most of Tomura’s body behind the scenes, which both does and doesn’t bode well for Tomura (like, at least he’s not dying, but the long-term implications of this for his free will and such certainly are not Good). and two is that this confirms that Ujiko did give Tomura at least one powerful mutant quirk, which explains why he was still so deadly and indestructible even when Aizawa was using Erasure on him (since Erasure doesn’t work on mutant quirks, just emitter and transformation ones)

MEANWHILE ON TODAY’S EPISODE OF “TODOROKI SHOUTO’S TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD LIFE”

I like how he doesn’t actually say that he can’t take on Gigantomachia. just that he can’t take on him and Afomura at the same time. that’s confidence, baby. that right there is why you always draft Todoroki Shouto in the first round for your fantasy team

HADOU!!!!

OOOH, TOMURA’S ALL “MAN, THIS GIRL’S WAVE POWERS AND THIS KID’S ICE POWERS ARE A SUPER-STRONG COMBO DAGNABBIT.” YESSS I LIKE THAT, TELL ME MORE ABOUT HOW COOL AND POWERFUL THEY ARE

HOT DAMN LOOK AT THAT

um but not to take away from this exceptionally cool moment or anything, but why is Endeavor dying and shouting “RUN” down there in the corner um

oh

excuse me. not to take away from How Bad This All Is, but!!

just a little, smol, IidaBaku for everyone. Iida, who apparently doesn’t know a damn thing about first aid and is all, “hmm that’s a pretty bad-looking puncture wound he has in his left shoulder there, I think I’ll just let his arm dangle freely like that and I won’t bother taking off his heavy gauntlets either. I mean. he’ll be fine, probably.” smh. at least Shouto probably cauterized the wounds

EXCUSE ME WHAT

TIME FOR MORE OF THAT GOOD OLD FASHIONED SHOUNEN RIDICULOUSNESS I GUESS LMAO. KACCHAN YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO. THERE IS A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, AND YOU LOST LIKE FOUR GALLONS OF BLOOD, BUT SURE. “PUT ME DOWN” HE SAYS. FIRST OF ALL, PUTTING ASIDE THE FACT THAT YOU ABSOLUTELY SHOULD NOT BE CONSCIOUS, THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN GOING TO DO, LIE DOWN AT THEM?? LISTEN, YOU SWEET IDIOT. TAKE HEED, BELOVED DUMBASS!!

ah well. I guess he gets to watch the Touya Show now too then lol

LMAOOOO now Machia’s lifting Tomura carefully in his palm like a broken action figure and Spinner is all “THE FUCK, YOU LOOK LIKE DEATH WARMED OVER”

“oh hey there Spinner. well let’s see, I woke up from my three-month coma and destroyed a city, had my body incinerated, and am currently being possessed by a diabolically evil potato. but please, tell me more about everything you've been through”

AW YISS AND THE FOCUS NOW SHIFTS TO THE TODOROKIS. EVERYTHING IS PROCEEDING EXACTLY AS WE HAVE FORESEEN

Endeavor my dude. it’s as if you want to die here. also holy shit, that bit about his lungs definitely does not bode well for him either

MOTHERFUCKER

GO AHEAD AND SIGN YOUR OWN DEATH CERTIFICATE, WHY DON’T YOU!! FLAGS UPON FLAGS. JESUS CHRIST

meanwhile Dabi’s just waving at ‘em

lmaoooo please oh please Caleb please keep this ‘EYYYYYYY’, it’s fucking perfect kdlshk;hg

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: so as you will see very shortly, I completely missed this detail in my first read-through because I was so anxious to get to the reveal page, but THIS MOTHERFUCKER LITERALLY DOUSED HIMSELF WITH INSTANT HAIR DYE REMOVER THAT HE’S JUST BEEN CARRYING AROUND IN A LITTLE HIP POUCH APPRENTLY SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIME. MOTHERFUCKER. I HAVE NO WORDS.)

IS THIS THE TIME. IS THIS THE MOMENT?! HERE IT COMES SLKFHS BRACE YERSELVES LADS

EYYYYYYYYYYYY

OKAY EVERYONE JUST LIKE WE PRACTICED!! SURPRISED FACES ON THREE! ONE... TWO... (•̪ o •̪) !! okay how was that

LMAO ENDEAVOR

at least Shouto looks properly stunned. Enji just looks like endeavor.exe just straight up stopped working

meanwhile Deku’s out here trying to do the math on this latest surprise family reveal! first Tomura is related to Nana, and now this. what’s next. who are you related to, Spinner. he rips off his boots to reveal engine legs and declares himself Iida’s long-lost uncle

oh shit Touya

it’s as if a million fanworks suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly jossed. who knew that all this time he was secretly sporting a crop top scar

also, THIRTY?! holy shit son you been busy

la la la two-page spread of Touya casually driving the dagger into Endeavor’s hero career and rocking the foundations of hero society as we know it la la la

la la la!!!

OH IS THAT THE END OF THE STORY THEN

almost got confused for a sec. there’s two monologues happening at once here. Endeavor doesn’t even know that his dirty laundry is being aired out nation-wide as we speak ffffff

btw while I appreciate the close-ups of Enji and Shouto here for sure, ngl I would also really love to see everyone else’s reactions right now. SHOW ME BAKUGOU AND THE LOV YOU COWARDS

is his hair actually turning white all of a sudden?? your hair dye just reacts on command??

(ETA: in all seriousness though, the hell kind of hair dye was he using? all he has to do is pour a bottle of that stuff and not even lather it in and it’s just gone just like that?? what the fuck would have have done if it ever rained lmao.

and this motherfucker just goes and leaves the dye remover in afterwards, too. I have never dyed my hair in my life and even I can tell you that’s probably not a good idea, Dabi.)

is this it. is this the legendary Dabi Dance in action. lmfao

oh hey what the fuck

so you figured you’d just murder your innocent younger brother to get revenge on dad, huh. well that’s nice

is that really all there is to the origin story though?? feels like we’re still missing a huge chunk of it. what was it that finally sent him over the edge? or was the trauma of being created as Endeavor’s perfect little hero tool and then being subsequently rejected by him enough on its own? because I’m still kind of confused on the part where he goes from “abused and discarded by his father” to “killed thirty people and was plotting the murder of his own brother” to tell you the truth

(ETA: lmao the initial fandom reaction to this did not disappoint. listen guys. people can be traumatized and shaped by awful circumstances that are completely out of their control, and grow up to be people they wouldn’t have grown up to be if things had been better, and all of that absolutely sucks, but. it doesn’t mean they get a get-out-of-jail-free card for all of their future actions, either! the tragedy of this situation is that terrible things happened to Touya, and he then went on to do terrible things himself. the tragedy of it is that this is exactly how the cycle of abuse keeps repeating itself on and on and on. maybe one of the people Dabi killed had a child who will now grow up traumatized themselves, and potentially go on to pay it forward themselves when they grow up. the tragedy is that the eye-for-an-eye justice that Touya is seeking out won’t actually make anything better in the end. the tragedy is that we understand why Touya is so angry, but that anger has basically warped him into the gleefully sadistic dancing figure we see in this chapter who has stopped caring about anyone else’s pain or suffering and just wants his own revenge.

anyway. basically what I’m trying to say is that it’s possible for the concepts of “Todoroki Touya was an innocent child and a victim of abuse” and “Dabi is a grown-ass motherfucking adult who killed thirty people and PROBABLY NEEDS TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THAT” to coexist lol. like, y’all wanted your moral grey, well HERE YOU GO lmao, eat up.)

lol but LOOK AT THAT BOY DANCE HIS LITTLE HEART OUT though

Todoroki Touya confirmed not a fan of the Endeavor redemption arc huh. well we all saw this coming lols

anyways here’s a sexy Touya for y’all

you really are the most theatrical bitch I s2g lmao

also for real though, what is happening with his hair? anime team in shambles here. they’re probably just gonna double down and keep it red. too bad though cuz this is a surprisingly good look on him

SO MANY CLOSE-UPS OF THE TODOROKI FACES

friendly reminder that Dabi without a doubt REHEARSED this speech like a thousand fucking times. LET US FALL TOGETHER!! COME DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL. apparently if you fake your own death in middle school you will never mentally age past that point and will remain a permanent chuuni

OH LMAO THAT’S THE END

we really just gonna end on “DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL”, huh. very well then. you know what song to play, Horikoshi. one, two... YOU ARE MY DAD. YOU’RE MY DAD!! BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE

[xpeachesncream]

acquainted | five

> series masterlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: (2nd bts member to be revealed) x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut (to come)

words: 4.2k

warnings: implied sexual content, cussing / mature language, relationship issues, angst, club scene, alcohol consumption, intoxication, seokjin is ready to risk it all cause reader is a huge flirt, the love triangle mess shall begin

notes: AH IM SORRY, THAT’S ALL I HAVE TO SAY?!? I TRIED to make this as fair as possible, but i..... clearly have an issue and just really wanted this to be messy lmao 

tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead @bluesharksandfish​ @photographic-girl (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Waddup bro." Namjoon steps aside to let Jin in. "Wasn't expecting you to come by since we're seeing each other tonight." Jin chuckled.

"Fuck, that's right." Joon laughs as he hands Jin a bottle of water before sitting.

"What, you forgot? You planned this for your own stepbrother."

"No, I know. Just a lot of things going on." He sips on his water, manspreading in Namjoon's loveseat in the livingroom. He tilts his head back and closes his eyes, the headache he felt earlier this morning no longer as bad, but still lingered. After getting home last night, he had tried to push you out of his mind, but failed miserably. It didn't help that he really and genuinely tried to clear the air with Grace, only for her to push him off and sleep on the far end of their bed.

"You alright? What's going on? I feel like I haven't seen you this stressed in a really long time. Last time was probably when you were planning your proposal." Jin softly chuckles, his head still tilted back.

"Yeah, it's been quite the shit show lately."

"Can't be that bad, can it? Have you and Grace been fighting?"

"A tad."

"A tad? The way you're acting right now says it's much more than a tad."

"We've been distant. Busy. We don't do things together anymore." He shortens the shpeel cause quite frankly, he's tired of repeating the story even though he hasn't told many people.

"Why don't you guys talk about it?"

"We can't communicate properly. I try, she gets even more upset and blows me off."

"It's probably just a rough patch in your relationship. I'm sure if you just give each other enough space, you could figure out how to fix things and have a serious conversation about where you both are at and what you need from each other. Remind each other that you're a team, and not working against each other." Jin's slightly shot his head up, his eyebrow raised.

"That's actually pretty solid advice coming from you."

"Shut up, you need help right?" Joon laughs.

"You're right though, it's just been hard. I feel like we've been constantly pushing each other away."

"You two are stubborn."

"Yup, that too." Jin sipped his water.

"I know that's not the only thing on your mind." If it was anyone in Jin's circle, you could count on Namjoon to figure things out before you can even say anything to him. "It's a little hard to believe you came over here to tell me this." In which, he's right. Jin never really talked about his relationship problems, let alone did he go out of his way to tell his friends what was going on. It was more of a thing that naturally came up in conversation when they were all together.

"Don't know what you're talking about." Joon shakes his head.

"Who is she?" Jin watches Namjoon's curious eyes as he leans into the palm of his hand. He was trying to come up with excuses or find ways to see himself out of his conversation, but he couldn't. Namjoon was too smart for this. If it were Yoongi or Hoseok, maybe he could get away with it. The only thing that Jin can come up with is a stupid smirk before he shakes his head and breaks eye contact. "See."

"See what?"

"That smirk. You can't tell me I don't know that smirk. I've been there before, dude. Who is she?" He repeats, causing Jin to succumb to defeat.

"She's a grad student in my creative writing class." Namjoon pauses before he bursts out in laughter.

"I need to sit back and get comfy on my couch for this." He says leaning back and crossing his arms. "She's a grad student? What's her name?" Jin nods.

"Y/N. 25 and so fucking attractive. It's frustrating." Jin groans into his hands.

"And you're telling me you see her more than just a distraction? I mean, I have to ask cause you are going through a rough patch with Grace." Although this is definitely not what Namjoon agrees with, he was only going to advise Jin on how to approach things. But execution-wise, it was up to Jin because this was his life. Namjoon was only part of it.

"She's smart, and she's fun. And.. she's refreshing."

"What did she do to make you feel this way?"

"She kissed me. In my classroom. And," Jin swallows the lump in his throat. "It happened again last night. It almost escalated into other things. But she stopped it." He quickly says because he can see Namjoon's facial expression changing. "She stopped it and she put me in my place because it just made things even more complicated. She said that we should keep our distance from each other."

"Which, she's right Jin. You really can't be doing this." Namjoon says sternly. "Please don't be stupid. This can hurt alot of people, especially since you're still engaged to Grace."

"I know, but likeeeeee--"

"No but's." Joon shook his head. Honestly, he didn't expect this behavior from Jin and it concerned him. "I can't force you on how to act, that's solely up to you. But you need to understand that it has to be one or the other, it can't be both. You either try and work things out with Grace and leave Y/N alone, or you call it quits with Grace."

"Y/N has been occupying my mind lately and it's been hard to push her out."

"Maybe that should be a sign as to what you need to do?" Joon sighs. "I don't know. I don't know her, so I can't say much, but are you really ready to throw away all these years with Grace for her? Like, is it really that serious?" Jin shrugged.

"I don't know, she doesn't want this."

"Correction - she doesn't want this because you're engaged. It's obvious that things would be different if the circumstances changed."

"I love Grace. A lot. We've been through so many things together, lots of ups and downs that taught us things."

"Yeah, and I love you both. I love Grace like a sister. But you can't stick around just because of history and because you both are comfortable, if that's what it really comes down to. It's not fair for both parties. If you find out that this is the end of your relationship with Grace, then it's the end."

"I'm just torn."

"Look, whatever you do, know that I support you no matter what and I'm always going to be here for you. But please do this right, no matter what that is. You can't have both of them."

"Yeah I know, I hear you." Joon nods.

"You're selfish, you know that?" Joon laughs. "You couldn't even introduce her to your single friends?" Jin smiled.

"Nope. Finders keepers." Joon rose his middle finger. "Just do me a favor and keep your mouth shut until I tell Yoongi and Hoseok myself."

"Sure, whatever. Not my battle anyways." He stood up and stretched. "So, where are we taking your little Jungkookie tonight?"

"The club so he can get some for his birthday."

"What a good older brother." Jin laughed.

"Is Grace in New York already?"

"Yep. I'm probably just going to head home and sleep until then. I don't remember the last time I stayed up this late, let alone the last time I went to a club."

"Yeah go home, and not to Y/N's house."

"Should I?" Jin joked, but Namjoon rolled his eyes. "I'm kidding, don't worry. Everything didn't just go in one ear and out the other."

"Yeah, please reassure me and tell me that I didn't waste time giving you advice."

"Oh my god, hurry up!" Jimin groaned loudly as he laid sloppily on your couch, getting restless while waiting for you, Ryujin and Taehyung to finish getting ready. To be fair, you all had been getting ready and fooling around for 2 hours, while Jimin sat patiently and watched whatever was on TV.

"Shut up, Jimin! I'm going to make sure I look good tonight." Ryujin yelled back.

"For who?"

"The dick I'll be getting."

"Why did I even ask?" Jimin sighed and dug his head into a pillow while you and Ryujin continued to yell and sing along loudly to every song that came through on your bluetooth speakers. "You all look good already, please, what else do you need to do?" He mumbled into the pillow. Don't get him wrong, he loves you all to death. He truly does. But it's just been such a long time since you all have gone out like this. He forgot what it was like.

"You know, she really means me." Taehyung tugged on his collar and swiped his thumb across his bottom lip.

"Okay, honestly. You two should probably fuck already. Get it out of your systems, you know?" You say as you dab lip gloss on your lips before shrugging and rolling your eyes. "Jesus Christ."

"Okay, no. You're supposed to be on my side, and that doesn't help." Ryujin's cheeks flush to a rosy tint as she pulls you aside. You knew damn well she was feeling embarrassed because it was true. She wanted to. Once Ryujin finally dusted herself off and was satisfied with her outfit, you both walked out into the living room to meet Jimin and Taehyung. Their eyes widened as they caught sight of you two, Ryujin in a pink, ruched dress with matching pink heels and you in a matching 2-piece skirt and low cut crop top.

"Oh shit, you both look good as hell." Taehyung says as he gets up and continues to eye both of you up and down. Mostly Ryujin, though. "Shall we head out?"

"Yup!" You say as you come to Jimin's side and lead the way out of your apartment. Jimin decided he'd drive tonight since he didn't feel like drinking too much, but he still wanted to go out and have fun. The crew headed to grab dinner at the Farmhouse Kitchen, which served the best Thai food in town. You all enjoyed some good grub, along with some really strong cocktails. You felt super happy that you all had time to finally do this since it's been a minute. You felt like you could finally let lose and get your mind off of things. The things that your dearest bestfriends don't even know about.

But, stories for other days. Tonight, you felt good and you looked good. You were all that and then some. Maybe tonight was the night you could meet a single, fine ass man to dance up on and act up with.

The cocktails were hitting you and Ryujin the most, already feeling tipsy before heading into the club.

"Wooooo!" Ryujin yelled before laughing out loud. "I'm ready!"

"Okay, yes, same, but please keep it together so we can at least make it inside the club." Jimin pleaded. He led your crew up to security, flashing your IDs one by one and paying for the cover fee before stepping in to the already packed nightclub. You and your friends ended up walking in a straight line, holding each other's hands to navigate through the crowd to the bottom floor. The top floor was the most crowded, being it was the house / EDM floor, while the bottom Hip Hop floor wasn't too jammed packed.

"Shots, my friends?" Taehyung asks as he swings over to the front of the bar. You follow behind him and line up against the bartender, asking for some good ol' Don Julio tequila. It wasn't your fave, but it was definitely Taehyung's go-to, and you can't lie, it got the job done quick for you. You all stick around the bar to take your shots, kicking them back to back [besides Jimin] to really get this night started.

As you waited for the final around, Taehyung is scanning the room and notices a group loudly making their way from down the steps and over to the bar. They were cheering on whoever the birthday boy was. A face in the group had looked familiar, so Taehyung squints his eyes to get a better look, and realizes its no other than Jin with his friends.

"Oh, shit! Look! Mr. Kim's here!" Taehyung laughs and says loudly, pointing towards the other end of the bar.

"Is he really?! Let's go take a shot with him and his friends!" Ryujin squeals as she sees him come into full view. You too, get a glimpse of him as they approach the bar and suddenly, you felt hot and nervous - the alcohol being of no help during this time. He looked good, and he didn't look like the already-handsome-professor you had. His hair was more natural, slightly curly, and almost like he had showered and let it messily air dry. The look was perfect on him. Not gonna lie, you were somewhat happy he was here to see how good you looked and part of you really wanted him to crave you until he couldn't take it anymore. You wanted to drive him crazy, and little did you know that you already were. It was a game you didn't mind playing, especially since you knew you couldn't have him.

You shouldn't.

"Ayeeeee! Mr. Kim!" Taehyung's ass yells with Ryujin cheering in the back. He does nothing but flash that smile of his while chuckling. His friends are all really handsome as well, one especially caught your eye with the way his wavy black hair fell down his eyes as he stood against the bar in black ripped jeans and a button up shirt. He seemed to be the youngest out of the group, but you were just assuming.

"Let's take a shot! On me!" Ryujin yells as she runs over with her loud ass. You follow behind her with Taehyung and Jimin, slightly hiding behind Jimin since you were feeling a little shy and awkward at this encounter. The events of the past days just flashed before your eyes, and you can feel Jin's eyes burning holes through you from your peripherals.

"These are your students?" You overhear as one of them looks behind at Jin and laughs.

"Yup." Is all he says, hands deep into his pockets.

"That's her isn't it?" Namjoon says in his ear, loud enough to make sure its clear over the music blasting. Jin simply looks at him without saying a word before returning his attention back on Jungkook, who he noticed was eyeing you. The look said everything to Namjoon.

"Do you know her?" Jungkook points at you and Jin nods.

"Why?"

"Why? She's gorgeous." His eyes light up, causing Namjoon to slightly choke and laugh behind Jin.

"Go for it." Is all Jin says. He's honestly livid right now, because the thought of someone else being able to get a taste of you while he hasn't fucks him up.

"Ohhh, boy." Namjoon sighs. "I hope you're truly over her or else it's going to get really fucked up, you know that right?"

"Don't worry about it." He says, dismissing him as he takes the shot from Yoongi's hand and immediately downs it.

"Hey." The black-haired cutie that caught your eye pushed his way through the group to come into full view. "I'm Jungkook."

"Y/N." You lightly shake his hand before tucking a strand behind your ear.

"I just wanted to say that you're absolutely gorgeous." He says cutely, his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Aw, thank you. That's so sweet."

"I, uh—"

"It's his 23rd birthday today!" One of the guys against the bar yells, grabbing Jungkook's shoulders and playfully massaging it.

"Yeah, it's his birthday Y/N! Give the boy some love!" Ryujin winked from where she was at.

"Happy Birthday." You chuckled as he nods.

"Thanks. Maybeeeee you can bless me with a dance after this shot?" He asked shyly. Boy, was he fucking attractive. You could see his thighs poking through the rips of his jeans, his sharp collarbone poking out from the unbuttoned portion of his shirt and his arm muscles defined even in the dark.

"Yeah, I'd love to." You leaned back against the bar as he stood next to you, waiting for the round of shots to come. "Are these your friends?" He chuckled.

"More like big brothers? That's Yoongi, that's Hoseok and that's Namjoon. They're Jin's friends. Jin is my stepbrother." You swallowed the lump in your throat as you quickly glance at Jin, who's side-eyeing you as he leans against the bar. You have got to be fucking kidding me. God was truly testing you.

"Ohhhh." You respond. "That's sweet of them to take you out."

"I honestly didn't wanna do much, let alone come to the club. It's not really my thing, but I'm glad I did or else I wouldn't have met you." He smiled, his smile being just as perfect as his stepbrother's.

"I'm glad I could make your birthday a good one after all." Ryujin suddenly comes to your side and gives your arm a good squeeze.

"He's a cutie! You better hop on that since Mr.Kim is taken." She says in your ear, pulling you into a hug.

"That's his stepbrother."

"Even better!" She exclaims, making you shake your head. You all gather and take the last round of shots in honor of Jungkook's birthday and shit gets wild, quick. Your group led them to the dance floor, partying together like you had known them since forever. It didn't feel awkward at all knowing it was Jin and group of friends, but it did get awkward when you felt the tension with Jin every time you were near him. He didn't like seeing you dance all up on his stepbrother, getting all handsy and touchy-feely when just the other night, you were straddling his lap, ready to risk it all.

Hell, what was he gonna do though? He couldn't do shit. Not with his people around, especially Namjoon.

You knew this. He didn't have to say anything for you to know he wasn't a fan of it. You'd catch him looking at you throughout the night, his eyes hungry and almost dark. Let's get this straight - there's no bad blood here. You're not mad or bitter [slightly]. You're just having your fun because you're single and can do whatever the fuck you want. You know he wants you, what's wrong with a little tease?

A couple of songs have passed and Ryujin has made her way through Taehyung, Yoongi and Namjoon, and now she was back to doing her own thing on the dance floor. Jimin has had a couple of ladies welcome themselves onto his lap, and he gladly accepted. You loved seeing Jimin have fun and you especially loved when girls swooned at the sight of him because he was deserving of it and he was mighty good looking. He always worked hard and never gave himself a break.

You, on the other hand, had been stuck to the hip with Jungkook and you had brought him deeper into the dance floor, away from the group just to get a little alone time. You had danced up on him majority of the night, his muscular arms always gently bringing you back against his body. You both were feeling some type of way with the alcohol running through your veins, but you weren't complaining one bit. Alcohol or not, Jungkook was fine.

"So, are you going to let me take you out on a date?" Jungkook asks in your ear, causing you to bite onto your bottom lip.

"I'd love to go out on a date with you." You face him, his smile going from ear to ear as he nods and starts taking down your number. To be honest, you could be here all night with him, but you decided you needed a break from all this dancing and from the crowded dance floor. You quickly excuse yourself to the bathroom, suddenly needing to break the seal really badly and freshen up. As you were exiting the bathroom, Jin was also exiting the men's bathroom at the same time. You both locked eyes, with you breaking the contact with a small, toothless smile before walking off.

"Y/N." He says, gently grabbing your wrist and pulling you back towards him. His body is against the back wall, both of your groups distant and not as visible from where you're standing. He looks down at you, his hand still wrapped around your wrist.

"Jin."

"You haven't said one word to me all night."

"I'm trying to keep my distance from you, remember?"

"You know that's not necessary." His hand was now on the small of your back, fingers gently caressing your back in small circles.

"It is. You know what you do to me." You say as you look down at his lips. Truthfully.

"And so do you." You can feel his breath against your skin and it sends goosebumps down your entire body. You're trying your hardest right now to not get turned on by this man, let alone throw yourself onto him. "This isn't fair, you know?"

"I gotta get back to everyone." You say, slightly pulling back.

"Just for the record," He gently pulls you back, his other hand lifting your chin. "Jungkook might have you right now, but I know in the end you'll be coming home to me and that's all that matters." He lets go of your wrist and walks away, leaving you slightly dumbfounded at the way he stood his ground like that. Your panties felt soaked, and you wanted nothing more but to ride this man into the next dimension. He was truly testing you, and quite frankly, you could burst any minute now.

"You okay?" Jimin says, lightly squeezing your arm. "You were gone for awhile."

"Yeah, long line." You lied.

"We're thinking about heading out, you good with that?" You nod silently. You look around to see Ryujin flirting with Yoongi and Namjoon, making you shoot him a look. "Not me, all you. Go get her." He shakes his head, chuckling.

"Alright, I need to say bye to Jungkook anyways."

"Oooh, Jungkook." He wiggles his eyebrows. You make your way over to the area that Jin and his friends are occupying, prying Ryujin's drunk ass away. You give Jungkook a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, letting him know you'd be waiting for his text.

Finally, you all headed out of the club and into Jimin's car, Ryujin being the first drop off of the night. Thank God he had decided to drive, because all three of you were still pretty tipsy and in no condition to get behind the wheel.

"Y/N, listen to me. You need to hop on Jungkook because he's fine as fuck!" Ryujin's drunk ass yells in the backseat as Jimin is making his way to her house.

"Ouch, Ry, stop kicking my chair." Jimin whines.

"Y/N, did you hear me?"

"I hear you loud and clear, Ry. Thank you." You laugh.

"And you, Jimin! I hope you grabbed a ton of numbers because there were tons of pretty ladies feeling you tonight and you need a girl!"

"Perfect, thank you for pointing out how single I am." He says, making Taehyung snorts.

"What about me?"

"Shut up, Tae. You don't need shit. Mind your own business." You and Jimin laugh in your seats.

"Also, Mr. Kim was really eyeing the hell out of you tonight, Y/N." She adds, making you sigh silently to yourself.

"Actually, I concur." Jimin chimes in. "He couldn't keep his eyes off of you."

"Mistress Y/N." Taehyung calls out, causing you to turn and pinch him on the leg. If you haven't gotten it by now, Tae loves to tease the fuck out of you by calling you a mistress. It's been his thing since you got all googly-eyed for him. And you hated it. You truly wanted to fight him every single time.

"It was nothing. He was probably just drunk."

"Sure." Jimin responds. "Call it what you want, he was definitely feeling you tonight." The ride goes silent, which, you're happy that none of them are pressing on it. You were not trying to get caught up at this moment.

Ryujin gets dropped off before Jimin makes his way to your apartment, parking in the yellow passenger/loading zone. Taehyung is knocked out in the back seat, while Jimin throws his hazards on and walks you to the front door of the lobby.

"Thanks for driving, Chim." He smiles and pulls you into a hug.

"No prob. Call me if you need me?" You nod. You walk in and get into the elevator, Jimin and his car disappearing in sight. You take a deep breath and sigh because you had been having an internal battle since the moment you stepped out of the club.

You were losing.

You stepped out of the elevator, only to step into your apartment to quickly freshen up and throw on comfier clothes. You find yourself heading back downstairs to meet your Uber. You knew exactly where you were going and you knew exactly what you were doing.

But you didn't give a fuck. You had been dying to get your needs fulfilled and the only person you wanted was a quick 25 minute Uber trip away.

[armillary-spheres-lover]

SP/so vs SO/sx

Not sure how much this can be generalized since it's only my personal experience. When I was a pre-teen my best friend used to be a so/sx 6w7, while I am 9w1 sp/so. Sp dom vs Sp blind... some stuff went down and it’s fascinating to analyze such differences to me (I feel like I'm fascinated by sp blinds in general wtf).

She was the V immature of the pair, throwing herself in any possible weird experience she could have just for the sake of it. She would always cause so much drama it was legit concerning and I always was on the sidelines, not participating and sometimes suggesting her to stop, but did she listen to me? Never, and also, in some ways, I think I did in fact understand her desire to feel alive and feel stuff and do dumb stuff, possibly in that I am sx-blind and I won't fucking allow myself to do that, while she totally did. I guess, I don't usually pay any mind to my sx-blindness but the only time that it kind of felt like I was missing on something was when I would spend time with her? And also now that I'm actually studying the instictual variants I guess I'm starting to realize it (but also not really there's a shit ton of work to do). She would always act as if she was the protagonist of some weird 19th romantic novel but, make it dumber (we were 11-12 after all, how smart could we be?).

I deeply, deeply understand her need and wish to be like a novel protagonist. I do think of myself in that way quite often. But while she did it by acting and getting actively involved in stuff, I’ve always done the same by hyper-interpreting my simpler, more boring experiences (9 basic bitch here, feeling attached to something while being withdrawn and out of touch with your body results in amazing fantasy sky castles). She was never satisfied by this.

If she wanted intensity, she would create it by idk, doing some dumb stuff she would for sure later regret. While she went on to feel so alive, I would stay in the back overthinking my more boring life. An example would be that while she actually acted so that everyone around us hated her and shunned her, I would simply feel and think I was being shunned as well, but in practice I would never do something that would elicit a strong reaction out of others. I basically fantasized about it. As you can tell her being a Social Dominant I guess she got the sx juice she wanted through social stuff (her reputation, going against the social system (social 6s often do that)).

In so many ways, if I were to simplify it, she was a mixture of Dorian Gray and Heathcliff and I was Des Esseintes. She was an edgier version of Dorian Gray, wanting to experience everything but make it dark and painful and tormented (a là Heathcliff), not once holding herself back. Des Esseintes, on the other hand, would also feel like a misfit and a tormented soul but he did so by staying inside his house and hyper-interpreting his experiences to an insane degree, until he basically starts to hallucinate. He barely goes outside of his home and when he does everything seems weird, scary, magical in its own way, and while a bit creepy that’s also part of being sx-blind I think? You secretly want that way of feeling alive via the dark things in life (not sure if my fixes have a part in this as idk other 9s may not relate to this maybe) but also you want to go about it safely (sp) and by not exposing yourself (9), so it becomes like wearing a pair of glasses that adds a layer of poetry and beauty and suffering to an otherwise normal, boring and inane reality (again, 9 fantasy shit). But that’s about it. It’s a magical pair of glasses that at times I feel like I can remove and put on at will when I’m bored and I feel like I want more out of life. Outsourcing sx if you will w/o ever acting on this shit. I relate to Des Esseintes even though he was possibly a sp 4 but whatever I guess...

My old friend, being sp-blind, of course did not feel the same need for “safety” and had nothing to hold her back, really... the 6w7 sp blind brings a lot of energy and a way to never be able to fucking stand still, so yeah... it was so fascinating to see her act that differently from me, but also empathizing with her desire to get MORE out of life and dive into the darker aspects of it. I guess that’s why I sticked with her even when I thought she was being unreasonable and annoyingly melodramatic. Most people would shun her and don’t get her ways and while I can’t say that I got her, I would at least sympathise with her wish to experience more and be dramatic, even if I couldn’t quite elaborate it at the time and I superficially thought she was being too immature (this is so funny, we were fucking 10 and we were already doing instictual stuff with me acting like the adult one idk. Also w1 may play a part in this shit. Me being sp dom felt like I was supposed to check on her but also I didn't really do it because it was fun to tag along with her dumb stuff). But while she had the courage(?) to act on such a wish, I did not - I never had it, and instead compensated by having an hyperactive mental landscape...

There was a Wilde’s quote that went like, “the artist always represents what they themselves cannot live and experience”, or whatever, and I’ve always related to it way too deeply, lmao. I would represent, think, imagine, write the stories, and instead she would actively live them. Also Wilde was a so/sx so I guess that means something

While I may be bitter, because even as a sx-blind I at times feel....... like I want to live and get involved in stuff more? also I guess 9s have a way to dissociate with their life quite easily so that doesn't help (a sx-blind 7 would probably feel like they're getting involved more). Plus possibly having a 5fix makes it worse? it kind of sucks tbfh. Like it feels I've been dissociated since I was 4 yo and never got back to actual earth wtf. 95x sp/so may be the most fucking boring thing on earth + it may bring a neurotic need to keep your little bubble untouched by real life and finding security in that bubble, to the point that you're actually missing out. Idk. I may *do* stuff to make me feel like I'm going around with people more but it doesn't really affect me that deeply so yeah... fuck all of this. It's not even the same as being stuck in your comfort zone? I guess it is but again I may at times challenge myself in some small ways and have new experiences but it's like nothing really reaches me idk.

Again, I usually prefer to go about stuff safely (aka not disrupting my little bubble too much), and in this way, I’ve always had way less regrets than her - so in this, I’m actually fine with my way of playing it safe. I like letting myself wear that pair of glasses when I feel like it and call it a day. I’ve always been content with very little...

Though honestly I’ve not been hanging out with her in years (at least 8 years, wow) and while I do hear from her I can’t say I can get to see how much she’s changed, lol

It was weird, you’d expect that with such a melodramatic friend the break up would be at least as dramatic, instead it has been quite the opposite - we simply slowly stopped reaching out to each other once we had nothing much in common anymore, and something else going on with our lives, lmao...

Also I mistyped her as a 4w3 in the past but it's so funny I got that little about the enneagram and IVs and somehow got her IV right at first try wtf I guess she's just that obvious

[unforth]

I don't think people have seen some professional, paid translations, even stuff like subtitles in streaming 😢

I'm a few days behind answering stuff but. EXACTLY THIS. I wonder, who do they think does the bulk of the translation - of manhua, of c drama subs, of...everything? A ton of the translation work we all rely on all the time in these fandoms is fan-done, and even when it's not fan-done, "professional" translators are often under paid, over worked, functioning under ridiculous deadlines, and far from actually fluent in both languages.

Example 1: I play a phone app game called Love Nikki which is from China. They rake in the cash from users, I myself have probably spent a few hundred bucks on it over the last 3-or-so years. They definitely have the money for good translation of the story part of the game...and yet the vast majority reads like it's been put through a machine translator. Like, I've ever seen instances in events where main character names are misspelled.

Example 2: Kathy Mok, hired to translate Daomu Biji, only had experience translating, like, professional manuals/industrial stuff? Which means that, even in her best effort professional translation of these fictional books, she often had no idea what she was doing? And people I know in the fandom who can actually read Chinese and have compared are routinely shocked at just what a poor job she did.

I could go on, but really, I wish people would learn a little about translations before they mouth off. I've only been in Chinese-based fandoms since late 2019, but I've been in anime fandoms since 1999, when all the professionally translated manga on the market fit on a single shelf if you could find it in a bookstore at all, and the entire system ran on video taped fansubs that we copied and traded around or bought illicitly in a NYC Chinatown basement for $5 a VHS (shout out to the Elizabeth St. Center, I still love you sweetie). And I've seen dreadful fansubs (Hecto Kenshin, anyone? Anyone? God I'm old lmao), and I've seen wonderful fansubs, and I've seen dreadful official subs (I even helped produce a few, I worked a summer as a QC intern at Central Park Media in 2001), and I've seen wonderful official subs. I've read dreadful fan translations, and wonderful fan translations, and dreadful professional translations, and wonderful fan translations.

Whatever issues there are with the Seven Seas translations (as I mentioned in the tags in my last post, I personally - as a professional editor myself - felt that TGCF especially was under-edited and could have been better) it's not because the translators were fans, and shitting on other fans is never ever going to get us where we want to be.

I personally think it's very, very important to, on the one hand, support Seven Seas in what they're doing so that we continue to get new titles, and, on the other hand, to hold them accountable so that they do better as they grow.

I wish y'all understood just how incredible and wonderful it is that our first publications come from a company that actually gives a shit what we think, wants to supply us with content, and wants to improve. I wish I could drag some of y'all back to anime fandom c. 2000 to see how *fucked* we got over and over and over by publishers who went "oh, new cash cow?", licensed something, did a terrible job because they weren't even trying, failed to make money, stopped publishing...and never gave up the license.

Things are so so so much better now than they used to be.

And yes, they can be better, and we should demand that they be better, because we deserve that! But. For all I've seen? Even with the issues I've been hearing about, esp with MDZS vol 1?

We've got it good, y'all.

We've got it so good.

[hybridfanfiction]

Owner Training - 9

- Lonely Kitten - 

If there was anything that made you hate having to get up at the crack of dawn to go to work besides the fact that you were actually going to work , it was the sight that greeted you when you went to say your goodbyes for the day.

Yoongi was curled up on the right side of the bed, the blankets pulled up so much you could barely see his face. He looked so comfortable and cozy, and you wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed and let his soft purrs lull you back to sleep.

Yoongi suddenly does that weird snore/snort combo he does when he’s jolted from sleep, and he turns to the other side, now facing the doorway. His eyes are still closed but your heart flutters a little when he tugs some blankets back like he’d worried he’d pulled them off of you.

You grin and walk up to him, bending over to press a small kiss to his forehead. He cracks one eye open and looks up at you sleepily.

“Work?” he mumbles, his voice adorably slurred.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll see you later, kay?”

He hums and smacks his lips. “Don’t stay too late. You’ve been working too much.”

He had a point. You’ve already worked nine days straight this week and you were going crazy.

“I won’t. Today should be an easy day.”

How he manages to project so much skepticism with just one eye is a mystery.

“Promise?”

“Sure, baby. I promise. Love you.”

“Love,” is all he manages to mumble before he falls back asleep.

****

The thing about your job is that...you hate it. You’d gone into this job expecting to be able to make a difference. That you’d find abandoned kids great homes, bring families together, or...you didn’t even know. It was a lot of rainbows and unicorns. The reality of it was that you saw a lot of kids being given back to abusive homes because their dad passed an anger management class, only to be back in the system six months later. Parents would take each other to court over visitation rights, and only relent when they received even more money from the other. And those were just some of the more mild issues. Basically, this job had opened your eyes to the fact that people were monsters.

And on top of the actual work, was the fact that your seniors and boss made your life a hell. Instead of treating you with the respect due to you as a fellow lawyer with the same shiny degrees as them, they instead handed their work off on you or made you do menial tasks like you were just another paralegal ( NOT to shit on paralegals either - their job was hella hard too).

You didn’t even have your own office! You were just another desk in the sea of paralegals and secretaries. When you’d brought it up at your last review, you’d been told it was because you were the new hire and you had to work your way up. Well, you’d been working here for several years now, and the hotshot young guy straight out of Yale that they’d hired a year ago already had a private office and his own secretary.

Literally, the only thing keeping you going these days was the fact that you needed the money and you didn’t know what else to do. At least you had Yoongi waiting for you at home to look forward to.

“L/N, I’m going to need your help with these pleadings. Need them done for tomorrow. Thanks,” Johnson, one of the lawyers you hated the most, threw a pack of client interview notes on your desk and struts off without even giving you a chance to reply.

You sigh and look at the packet, debating setting them on fire and walking out of the building like a boss. But then he’d just complain to the big boss, who would call you in and give you a talking to. It all seemed like too much of a hassle. (You knew you were being bullied for being the only female lawyer here - it was ridiculous and sexist. Like, hello? Is this 1924? No.)

You’d get out of here eventually. Somehow. For now, you simply pull the packets closer and get to work.

Yoongi is going to kill you.

****

When you arrive home and finally kick off your heels with a happy sigh, it suddenly hits you that your apartment is silent. No TV, no booming rap music, not even the blessed sounds of cooking that your empty stomach had been looking forward to.

“Yoongi?”

“Nice of you to join us.”

You jump as he mumbles the words, finally pinpointing him in the corner of the dining room. He’s lounging in one of the chairs with his arms folded, his eyes screaming his disappointment.

“I know I’m late, I’m sorry.”

“Late, she says. It’s past midnight,” he scoffs.

“I know! I was going to leave earlier but I got stuck with some extra work.”

“You promised.”

His tone hurts you and you feel horrible.

He reaches out his hand, looking you dead in the eye...and pushes your vase of wildflowers right onto the floor.

The glasses crashes everywhere and he merely sits back and looks at the mess with a slight smirk.

“What the fuck, Yoongi?”

He shrugs. “It was in my way.”

“Why do you... aw hell ,” you whisper, feeling tears well in your eyes.

Suddenly, he leans foreword, looking at you with alarm. “Why the fuck are you crying? No, wait , stop that.”

“I’m so so-sorry,” you hiccup, as your tears turn to wails. “I’m a horrible person and a horrible girlfriend. I can’t do anything right. I’m a failure.”

Yoongi rushes to you and crouches down, pulling you into his chest.

“No, you’re amazing. The best. I’m just throwing a tantrum like a baby because I miss you. I’m sorry, I’ll be better,” he croons, petting your back frantically in an attempt to comfort you.

You lean into his touch and let yourself cry until chest and throat throb in pain too much to continue. Yoongi presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Better?” me mutters, and you nod your head, finally looking up at him. His eyes are red too, with tear tracks down his cheek. You swipe at them and he kisses your hand.

“Sorry,” you whisper hoarsely, and he shakes his head.

“No need. I’m sorry I was being a brat.”

“You have a point though. I’m never home.”

“Because you’re literally working to take care of us.”

“Yeah, but...even I know that they are working me too much. I’ve never been so stressed in my life, Yoongi. And today I had to literally watch some kid cry and be torn away from the foster family that’s been raising him since he was two weeks old and be given to his druggie mother who he’s seen once in three years. I just...how is that okay?”

“It’s not. Not everyone has as big a heart as you, love.”

You grunt and relax into his touch as he pets your hair soothingly.

“If you could find something else, what would you do?”

You consider the question. “I’m not sure. I think there’s still a part of me that desires to help and make a difference, but then there’s the me that’s been at this for awhile that isn’t sure that’s realistic. I’d still work in law, but...I don’t know. I don’t know who would actually need me.”

He hums and tilts your head up. “Want some tea?”

“Yes please,” you smile softly as he stands up and reaches out a hand to help you up.

He peeks sheepishly at the glass and gestures for you to go sit on the couch.

“I’ll clean it up”

“Seriously though, Yoongi. My vase?”

“Honestly, I’ve been feeling the urge to push that off the table for a few days and I just used that as an excuse. I’ve also been eyeing the wine glass display, but I’ve held off since I actually use those,” he chuckled on his way to the kitchen.

“Don’t you dare. Bad Kitty.”

“Kinky,” he hums, then you hear the click of the electric kettle.

You wait in silence, exhausted after your outburst of emotion. Truthfully, it was probably long-due. A few minutes later Yoongi returns and hands you a mug full of lemon and ginger tea, blowing on his own mug as he settles in next to you.

“I had a thought,” he rumbles after taking a sip.

“Finally,” you snort, grinning when he pinches you.

“You never call in sick or go anywhere so you probably have a shit load of vacation time saved up, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I should have at least a couple weeks worth. I usually just cash out at the end of the year.”

“Take it. Let’s go on vacation. No sense killing yourself over a job you hate, and I want to spend some time with you.”

You sigh, leaning into Yoongi’s warmth. “Yeah, you’re right. Where shall we go?”

He shrugs. “Jeju? I don’t know. I don’t care as long as it’s somewhere with a nice bed and I get to see you in a bikini”

You pinch him and he laughs unapologetically.

“You know I love you right? No matter how much I’m away or if we are having some stupid fight - I love you,” you ask, your voice soft and a little shy.

He picks up your free hand and places a kiss on the back of it, squeezing it gently.

“I love you too, even when I’m being a brat or when you forget to pick up ice cream.”

“Wow, that’s deep.”

“What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m a man of refined tastes.”

****

Notes:

Why are my cats always knocking shit off my counters?

Also, I had a few requests from people who wanted to send me fanart. You can email it to me at smirksslayme@gmail.com or tag me on here. I’d love to see it.

I think I have a twitter made but I can't remember it right now lmao. If anyone wants that I'll try to find it later.

[crispyjenkins]

I LOVED the dooku prompt fill! Soft grandpa dooku and smol obi wan is amazing! Not the original prompter, but I'd love a continuation with Jango involved :)

(lmao it took me like thirty minutes to find both the anon prompt and your new user @0ptim0u5e and was worried i’d have to go into this blind without anyone to tag T*T but we here, and bby Obi is as soft and flirty as ever (part one here)

senior padawan obi definitely looks like this, without the scar, of course. imagine releasing that on phantom menace smh. oh also he uses two ‘sabers just to piss dooku off, based off Dooku’s quote:

"What was to become of elegance and gallantry if a duelist couldn't make do with one blade?" from the jar’kai wookieepedia page)

 Despite his best intentions, Yan has raised a flirt.

  Despite distilling decorum and civility and restraint into the boy’s very bones, when Obi-Wan grows up confident and self-assured, he grows up with a silver tongue and the follow-through to make it dangerous. 

  “Your hair is longer than I imagined,” he greets the new Mand’alor, charming smile turned up to ten, and Yan wonders if he even knows he’s doing it.

  Fett raises a brow, clearly unimpressed, but luckily not so upset that Yan will have to steer his padawan away from another interplanetary incident. “Imagined me often, have you?”

  Feeling far older than his seventy-one years, Yan sighs and sends his ire across the rubble to where Yoda is directing a few padawans in their cleanup efforts, because it is the old troll’s fault that he and Obi-Wan are even on Concord Dawn when they should be at the Temple preparing for Obi-Wan’s trials. But, of course, Master Yoda had requested every available hand to aid the Mandalorians following a terrorist attack on a refugee colony, and even his lineage can’t weasel their way out of it.

  Yan watches Obi-Wan’s smile slide into a smirk, and bemoans the few quiet years they’d had together before Obi-Wan realised he could wrap anyone around his little finger if he tilted his head just right. 

  “Well, it was certainly shorter when I’d seen in it last,” Obi-Wan says easily, arms tucked behind his back in a deception of propriety.

  “Padawan,” Yan warns softly to deaf ears.

  Fett gives them both a little smile of disbelief, snorting as he moves his helmet to his other hip. “And I never forget a face, kih’jetii, and yours is not one I’ve seen before.”

  “No, we’ve not had the pleasure to meet before now,” he laughs and dips into a short bow, “but I’d know your beskar’gam anywhere, Mand’alor.”

  “Ah, so the cryptic bantha shit starts young.”

  “Please forgive my apprentice,” Yan cuts in with another sigh, not at all appreciating the lack of remorse from Obi-Wan’s side of their bond. “He forgets his place.”

  “I have forgotten nothing, master.” Obi-Wan smiles up at him, rocking back on his heels before turning back to Fett. “I only doubted that your honour would believe in Jedi ‘bantha shit’, and refrained from opening the conversation with ‘I’ve had precognitive dreams about the length of your hair, Mand’alor.’”

  Maker protect him from the idiocy of youth.

  “Thank you for your time, Mand’alor Fett,” Yan says, grabbing Obi-Wan by the back of his robes. “I hope our work together will be as smooth as it has been in the past.”

  “Of course, Master Dooku,” Fett says, mouth twisted in an attempt to keep from laughing, which only encourages the smug mirth in Obi-Wan’s mind. “Though I imagine you’ll have your hands full with this one.”

  “Most do,” Obi-Wan manages before Yan can drag him away.

-

  “I don’t need protection!”

  The baby Jedi blinks at him with a polite smile, so perhaps he really has dealt with worse than an inconvenienced Mandalorian, but Jango also refuses to be coddled by magical space wizards on his home planet. Even if they are currently blockaded in the room that had become his office during the relief effort because Death Watch had heard about all the Jedi foundlings running around the remains of Foxsoll and made a play for a redux of Galidraan.

  “Consider it assistance, then,” the baby Jedi —Obi-Wan— says, gently pushing Jango around the nearest corner with a hand on his chest, just as the heavy wooden door explodes into splinters. “I’m afraid my master would be very disappointed in me if I disobeyed his orders to stay at your side.”

  Jango growls, but jams his helmet on and tugs Obi-Wan further behind the wall. “And I imagine you always follow your ‘master’s orders’.”

  The boy’s smile turns sunny as he slips out of his outer robe and pulls two jetii’kade from his belt. “Imagined me often, then?” he returns cheekily, leant far too close against the background noise of three Death Watch commandos smashing into the room, and Jango catches his eyes flicking down to where his lips would be. Kriff, thank the Maker for his helmet.

  “Is now really the time?” A little desperate, Jango grabs him by the shoulder and switches places with him so he can lean around the wall and fire his westar at the closest commando, hitting them right between their chestplate and pauldron. 

  Obi-Wan hmms, letting himself be handled but twisting the hilts in his hands with practiced ease, something comfortable and dangerous in the action. “I suppose not,” he agrees softly, letting Jango take out one of the commando’s legs before leaping out from behind the wall and  igniting both his ‘kad like a kriffing lunatic.

 Dooku is going to have his balls on a platter if he lets his padawan get himself killed, so Jango has no choice but to follow.

-

  “You age me more than Qui-Gon ever did,” Master Yan sighs, as Obi-Wan smiles unrepentantly up at him and Jango shoves his helmet back on to hide how dark his cheeks have turned.

  Perhaps he should feel bad, that his master had searched him out after the battle only to find him snogging another planetary leader against a wall (which, despite Temple rumour, had only happened once before, and it hadn’t even been a good snog, so did it really count?), but despite this being perhaps the most compromising position Yan has found him in, Obi-Wan finds he couldn’t give a flying kriff. 

  All those holodramas were right, having a grumpy Mandalorian knock you to the ground to shield you from a grenade is absolutely wizard.

  “I don’t think that’s quite fair, master,” Obi-Wan says easily, stepping back so he isn’t crowding Jango against the remains of his office wall. “Surely this isn’t as bad as Qui-Gon trying to sneak Flesh-Eating Scorpion Vines into the Temple.

  “No, but perhaps it is as bad as Melida/Daan.” With another sigh, Yan hands him the robe he had abandoned in the other room, and tsks as he takes in the minor shrapnel cuts on Obi-Wan’s cheeks, the way the blood is smeared from eager fingers. “I respectfully ask you don’t involve yourself in another system-wide uprising.”

  Obi-Wan feels Jango’s bemused surprise through the Force, and coughs in embarrassment. “Master, that’s hardly... I didn’t start the uprising of the Young.”

  “Hm,” Yan raises a brow, completely ignoring the Mand’alor to turn Obi-Wan’s hood right-side out. “I’ll attempt to remember that the next time I must rescue you from the Daan’s latest kidnapping attempt.”

  And despite Temple rumour, that had only happened thrice, but one more time and Nield is offering him a punch card. 

Mando’a: mand’alor — “Sole ruler”, contended ruler of Mandalore. kih’jetii — “Little Jedi”, usually offensive but the relationship between Mandalorians and Jedi are better in this ‘verse so beskar’gam — Armour made of beskar, “Mandalorian Iron” that was actually probably a steel alloy jetii’kad/e — lightsaber/s, lit. “jedi saber/s”

[emocatkeith]

oh i might add onto this little list in the future, but i just made two new blogs if you wanna check them out! they’re still new though. i also decided this would be easier for the people who followed me for the fanworks i make and not, like, memes or something lmao

superjail side-blog [in hiatus] @lordstinggay

batman side-blog [in hiatus] @wonderland-in-gotham 

sun and moon (fnaf)/general simp blog lol @soleilxe

ppg/cartoon side-blog @un-luckylynx

My General/Trigger Tagging System

3/09/21: Hey everyone! I want to implement something into my pinned post I made a bit ago, which is about how I tag certain things. To keep things tidy, I’ll add the tags underneath the cut so my blog doesn’t look cluttered. But that aside, the main reason why I’m making this is because I’m worried people could get triggered by some content I post.

To begin, I always end with TW in lowercase for possible triggers, most rather common to have. For general stuff and memes, I usually don’t add, but for big fandoms and stuff I like, I usually put the name of the series I like in the tags. If there’s spoilers, I’ll put either the full title or abbreviation of it followed by “spoilers.” 

I also don’t really tag my specific posts or art since I don’t think many people see them, but you can check my archive to search for anything I’ve made, or you can just ask me and I’ll dig through my posts to find the one you’re talking about. Take in mind this might take a while as I have around 3k posts the time of writing this.

Now, here’s the general trigger list. If you need to add any spoilers you want me to mark, just hit me up an ask (I have anon messaging turned off because of possible hate mail and shit. I don’t have time for that kinda stuff, haha.)

bugs tw/insects tw: pretty self-explanatory. i use both for most posts including these so more people can be safe while not having to blacklist one of them at the same time.

child abuse tw/abuse tw (for general cases): also obvious. if it involves gaslighting and stuff, i’ll still try and tag that as abuse since that shit,,,is fucking nasty dudes.

body horror tw: i usually use this for fictional characters or art pieces not depicting actual people, since that’s really disrespectful to say to someone like that. if i do reblog something pertaining to this, i like to tag it as either “wound/wounds tw” or “disability tw” for people with major facial/body deformity and stuff.

sui/cide tw: tbh i’m half afraid to say the full word in a post, but i tag this content with the full word and no slash in the middle. i’ll also tag posts just mentioning sui/cidal things, or attempted tries, under this general category.

scopophobia tw/trypophobia tw: for the fear of characters or people staring right at the viewer or even implying eye contact, and the fear of hole-like spot clusters.

unreality tw: for the subject of fictional events taking place in real life (ie monsters being real, the moon being alive, etc.) while this is a source of personal comfort for me, i know some deal with bad paranoia and i can understand!

tw nsfw/tw nsfw txt: pretty self-explanatory lmao. for “tasteful” depictions (i guess that’s how you say it?? censorships weird lol) i’ll use nudity tw!

eyestrain tw: anything with bright colors or possibly harmful visuals when it concerns eyesight and stuff. for brightly-colored/flashing gifs, i use flashing tw/epilepsy tw

i think this is all i have now? or at least the ones i commonly use. if you need me to add a trigger to the list, let me know! this tagging system also extends towards my side-blogs as well. thanks for reading!