#watch me immediately mute this post ha

[orionsangel86]

So I've had quite a bit of time now to absorb the above take and consider all perspectives on this and whilst I can understand where OP is coming from on their specific perspective, I think OP is fundamentally wrong on a few points. I get that not everyone on the internet that day was an avid Supernatural fan/Destiel shipper and I get that the state of the world and the political climate (specifically in America) were particularly dire at that point and so I can see why you would want to reduce the importance of SPN/Destiel's role in the hysteria, but the truth is that regardless of everything else, Destiel going canon very much was the fuse that blew everything else up, and nothing else would have had even remotely the same impact.

Let me attempt to explain why.

Under a cut because obviously this isn't a quick and simple thing to explain so only click read more if you genuinely want to understand this whole insane mess.

Now bearing in mind I am not American, even I can admit that on a global scale the US elections this time around were tense - Trump turned your country into a global laughing stock on one hand, and quite a concerning dangerous liability on the other. The rest of the world was very much watching on with baited breath to see how the election would turn out. But I think we should stress that the Election took place several days before November 5th. Yes, the results this time around were taking a while to be revealled, building up the tension and anticipation, but regardless, had Destiel not come along and caused mass hysteria the Election would not have had such a huge impact on pop culture at the time. It would have still been iconic and pivotal of course, but it in no way would have caused the same insanity everywhere on the internet for the following week.

OP states that any inane fandom drama could have had the same effect. That any other fandom ship going canon could have given the same outcome. This is where OP and I fundamentally disagree. OP actually already contradicts themselves when they state "except that Supernatural was a thing everyone knew basic things about from dashboard osmosis"

Because here is the thing. I have been on tumblr nearly a decade, and I have certainly learnt a lot through dashboard osmosis. I knew about Superwholock, and Hannibal, and Spirk of course, but nothing holds a candle to Supernatural and the Supernatural Fandom for size, consistency, and dedication to shit posting. There is a reason SPN fandom became infamous back in the days for "we have a gif for that". There is a reason why Destiel holds the top spot for most fanfictions on AO3. There is a reason tumblr groans every April 1st as someone inevitably tries to recreate the mishapocalypse.

If it had been Spirk going canon somehow, sure, the internet would have celebrated. They probably would have done it in some reasonably well written respectable way. Old Spirk fans would surely have come out to cheer it on. The internet would have laughed about the timing sure, maybe we all would have trolled that old bastard William Shatner until he finally deleted his Twitter (if only). Spirk would have probably trended (though perhaps not over the election), but the likelihood of anyone outside of Star Trek fans going mad and joining in on the hysterical shit posting hilarity of that night and the following days is probably quite slim. I think the same can be said for most ships. Because lets be honest now, most ships aren't Destiel.

Now I'm not saying this in a smug "my ship is better than your ship" way at all. Because the Destiel impact is absolutely not about that. What you have to understand is the very specific very hostile relationship that Supernatural Fandom has with the Supernatural Creators which is very much unique to Supernatural and was very much responsible for the hysteria that night. (yes we can argue Sherlock creators were also hostile towards the fandom but I promise you with every fibre of my being as someone who experienced both shows and fandoms in real time they were NOT the SAME.)

Supernatural was a 15 year long reign of terror on its fandom. It was 15 years of queerbaiting that somehow became genuine queer coding once the showrunners had changed hands enough times, yet still consisted of an internal struggle among its creators who were half very supportive of the ship and half absolutely adamantly against it due to either a genuine dislike of SPN even remotely stepping away from a brother-centric narrative, or just run of the mill homophobia. It was a ship that was built upon consistently without long hiatus's over a 12 year period (which is an extremely long time in internet time) and its fanbase at its height was most definitely among the biggest on the internet.

It is because of this very particular relationship that SPN has with its fanbase, that has lead to SPN fandom over the past 15 years being pretty fucking hilarious in its self deprecation, humour style, and its own antagonism towards the show. There are genuinely people on tumblr who claim to be part of the "SPN fandom fandom" who don't care about the show but follow the tags and bigger bloggers simply for how fucking hilarious the fandom has become through 15 years of experience in dealing with this absolute dumpster fire show and its ridiculous real life dramas. I cannot express enough how unique SPN fandom is in this regard. The fact is, if you were part of SPN fandom at any point, you would have picked up this particular style of humorous blogging and even if people left the fandom over the years, that particular experience never would have left them. No other fandom could have pulled of the mishapocalypse (to this day still probably the best April Fools joke in internet history) and you betcha that SPN fandom was pivotal in getting Goncharov to have as big an impact as it did. You may consider modern tumblrs sense of humour to be just a tumblr thing, but I guarantee it would not be the way it is without SPN fandom laying the foundations all those years ago. Calling Tumblr "The Destiel Website" is not actually hyperbole. It's fact. Destiel and SPN were unique in building the foundations on what we now consider pretty standard tumblr culture.

So on that note, You have a fandom that has "sleeper agents" all over the world all sporting the same "trauma" about this show and years of experience in excellent shitposting on the internet, you have a show which has basically been playing Schrodingers Ship with its fanbase for at least the past 3 years. Most people who had a tumblr blog during the height of the SuperWhoLock era are aware of Destiel and how insane it was, even if they never really had any interest in it (if only thanks to their posts being hijacked by a SPN gif). Even if it were a regular day - no US elections, no covid19, no horrible real world traumatic events dominating the trending topics on Twitter - Destiel going canon would have still caused absolutely insanity online unlike any other fandom ship could have caused. I guarantee it. Not just because of Destiel being a very long running popular ship, but because of the way it happened. Because no other show would have done it like that. No other show would have had one of the lead characters confess their gay love for the other lead character seemingly out of the blue (it wasn't, but only if you really pay attention to subtext) and then immediately die whilst the other lead character has barely any reaction and doesn't respond (he does have a reaction, but unless you are very clued in on Jackles micro-expressions its not gonna register).

No other show would have made a queer ship go canon in such a ridiculous way that was so perfectly primed for tumblr style shitposting (tumblr style being SPN fandom style originally anyway). So of course, even if there hadn't been historic world events happening, it would have been an absolutely insane night on the internet. The fact that it DID happen in the midsts of several historic world events only added fuel to the fire and created a perfect storm of hilarious memes and chaos and caused Destiel to trend over the US election - leading serious political journalists to scratch their heads and wonder what the fuck was happening.

It wasn't the US election that lead to the insanity of November 5th 2020. It was Destiel. Destiel was the fuse, the US election was just fuel being added to the fire. Everything else - the Sherlock S5 rumours, the Putin stepping down rumours, the revelations in certain Manga and Anime fandoms - none of that would have even been a blip on the wider internets radar were it not for Destiel and SPN fans (both current and former) going nuts with the memes, spreading rumours and world news like wildfire across the internet, all because of their glee over Destiel going canon in typical SPN style - being the most ridiculous and frankly hilarious way possible.

The reason we have the Destiel news meme, and the reason why it continues to be one of the most popular meme formats next to distracted boyfriend, is because Destiel fans were spreading the chaotic news about the election and other weirder news globally on that night and throughout the following week. Because whilst OP calls the Destiel part inane, and irrelevant in the grander scheme of what went down that night, the truth is that no other insane fandom news would have had even a fraction of the impact that Destiel did. Because no other fandom has the same batshit crazy history and build up that Destiel did. No not even Spirk. Spirk may have a longer history, but it doesn't have anywhere near the consistency Destiel had. No other fandom would have been able to carry all of that hysteria and spread it like a virus across the internet the way SPN fans did.

If Destiel hadn't happened, November 5th 2020 would have been nothing more than another night during an intense election in America, and the rest of the world would have simply forgotten shortly after - with the exception being the UK who continue their disturbing tradition of burning an effigy of a traitor who tried to blow up a tyrranical government 400 years ago on a bonfire on this particular night each year and created the very apt poem "remember remember the fifth of November" for it, which is easily co-opted by SPN fandom now. No other fandom news would have had the same impact on internet history. No other fandom could have turned this into an annual Tumblr holiday. No other fandom is quite as insane as SPN fandom nor as devoted to shitposting and irritating the fuck out of anyone not in SPN fandom in order to pull this off.

If it had been anything else, it wouldn't be the same. If it had been anything else, OP certainly wouldn't be writing about it now, because the anniversary celebrations wouldn't have irritated them enough to complain about Destiel in a tumblr post - because no other fandom is quite as annoying as SPN fandom enough to make random people want to revise the history and erase that which annoys them. No other fandom does it like them. I say this from experience.

So whilst anyone not interested in SPN and Destiel are more than welcome to blacklist the tags, block the bloggers, and try as hard as they can to ignore the truth of what happened that night just over 3 years ago, don't you dare try to pretend that it wasn't the very specific trigger of Destiel going canon that caused that hysteria - a global hysteria mind you, not an America-centric hysteria. Because whilst OP tries to make out that November 5th was primarily about the US election, Destiel was a global event, or at least, a Western World event with people joining in the hysteria all across Europe and even as far as Australia and New Zealand (and Destiel has a huuuuge fanbase in South America as well). We don't rewrite history in these parts. we embrace it, even if it is really fucking annoying.

People who try to analyze what happened on Tumblr on November 5th, 2020, often really overstate how much it was actually “about” Supernatural. As someone who has never been in the supernatural fandom ever but dID join in on the hysterical destielposting—it was really more about the stress of the pandemic and the 2020 presidential election.

The two biggest Youtubers I’ve seen try to dissect “what happened that November 5th” in video essays both weren’t American—- and I think that explains why they both tried to explain the hysteria primarily via analyzing the Supernatural fandom/the original show, rather than through the lens of the election. And while those videos are cool, valid, informational, and make lots of really well-considered interesting points— I can tell you that me and almost all my mutuals had literally no knowledge or interest in the fact that “oh supernatural had made nods at the ship in the past but the creators were adamant that I wouldn’t be canon” or etc etc etc etc. the first time I learned about any of that context was way later, watching videos where people claimed that fandom history context (that I did not know anything about) was the actual reason for the hysteria.

But the reality is that people latched on to the Destiel stuff because it was a piece of big useless inane zero-stakes fandom news in a time when we were desperately waiting for serious high stakes election news. We were latching onto a “positive “ piece of inane stupid fandom news in a time of great stress, with all the desperation of a drowning man who latches onto whatever piece of wood will keep him afloat.

The core of the hysteria was that Americans (who make up a huge chunk of tumblr’s userbase) were currently glued to their laptops watching the live presidential election vote counts come in. These vote counts were taking an extended amount of time due to the pandemic causing high numbers of mail-in ballots, resulting in a constant state of Election Day Stress for multiple days straight.

This was also during the height of the Pandemic. People had predicted Trump’s presidency would be bad; no one had predicted it would be this apocalyptically bad. No one had predicted pandemics and lockdowns and hospitals overflowing with bodybags. remember Trump spreading Covid lies and conspiracies?? There were so many Qanon conspiracies about democrats being Satanic child traffickers who had to be put to death, and coup threats were mounting from the right wing side. It seemed like this election was a choice between ‘centrist democrat’ and “apocalyptic right wing conspiracy theory authoritarianism,” in the midst of pandemic conditions that people feared would never ever improve— and it seemed like a close election.

Another major point was that Trump voters were more likely to be antimaskers/Covid deniers, while Biden voters were more likely to take the pandemic seriously— so Biden voters were more likely to send in mail-in ballots instead of risking the in-person voting crowds, which meant their ballots would take much longer to count. And so, in many state electoral vote counts, it would initially seem like Trump was very far in the lead— only for Biden to slooooowly build up an agonizingly small lead as the mail in ballots came in, and then defeat Trump at the very end.

So you’re just watching these news sites giving live election updates, refreshing the page every 2 minutes to see if you’re going to live under a spineless centrist democrat or a literal Qanon Dictatorship. And then you go on tumblr to distract yourself, and there’s more election posting, and more agonizing over the votes, and more stress and despair—-

And then it’s been days and we’re right at the crucial tipping point where it’s anyone’s game and the next few hours will determine whether Trump will win, so you need to keep your eye on the vote count, because the next hours will determine the future of the pandemic and your country and your plans for your entire life—

And then stupid Destiel becomes canon! And it becomes canon in the silliest way possible!

If Destiel had become canon at any other time, it would have been a big goofy tumblr celebration? But we wouldn’t have gotten the insane explosion of hysterical interaction.

The entire core of it was the contrast between the inane meaningless stupidity of fandom news vs the actual stressful election news you wanted to hear! It really is best conveyed in that meme where Castiel says “I love you” and Dean indifferently responds with a piece of important election news.

It’s about the contrast between the low-stakes inanity of fandom and the massive life-destroying stakes of a terrifying election. There really was no reason it had be Supernatural specifically, except that Supernatural was a thing everyone knew basic things about from dashboard osmosis— it could’ve been any other equally huge silly fandom ship news about a ship everyone *knew of* but might not necessarily be invested in (ex. Stucky becoming canon, Johnlock becoming canon, Kirk/Spock becoming more canon somehow, etc etc etc.)

I think it’s true that people who weren’t paying agonizingly close attention to the American election news got swept up in it, and that non American Supernatural fans also were extremely excited for purely fandom reasons — but the entire reason it blew up to an unprecedented degree was because of that core of stressed out terrified Americans glued to their computers watching election results and suddenly receiving stupid fandom news instead, and deciding to just hysterically parodically hyper-celebrate this absurd useless zero-stakes news.

I think it was also all elevated by the fact that, as I said before, this happened at the crucial “tipping point” of the election where the next few hours would determine the winner. The fact that Biden began to slowly develop a lead in the hours after made it feel, hysterically, as if the hours after Destiel became canon was somehow the turning point where he began to win; so celebrating Destiel felt like celebrating that slow turn towards victory.

The tl,dr is that it’s so important to Remember the Fifth of November …..in preparation the inevitable hysteria that will happen in the presidential election on November 5th of next year. XD. Personally I’m rooting for Johnlock or Frodo/Sam to somehow become canon in the eleventh hour right before the democrats win

[iimplicitt]

OFF TO THE RACES | LN4

parings: lando x cowgirl unnamed fem! character (faceclaim bella hadid)

summary: the mclaren team gets taken to a rodeo ahead of the austin grand prix. lando takes the saying; “save a horse, ride a cowboy” a little too literally. let’s take Jesus off the dashboard, he’s got enough on his mind.

warnings: 18+ smut!!, car sex (it’s crime don’t do it), unprotected p in v (also don’t do this), one night stand, lando in a cowboy hat, hickeys, spitting, praise, size kink? kind of, lando has a thing for making her cry (in a good way), social media posts towards the end

wc: 3.8k

a/n: i’m a born and raised texan so don’t come for me with the stereotypes in this LET ME DREAM

Sweat coated his skin as they walked, the road cracked and uneven as they made their way up to the exposition center turned rodeo. It was Zak’s idea, a bonding experience he said for Lando and Oscar even though that was completely unnecessary. They probably spent too much time together as is.

Their boss smiled at them, already sun burnt a bit as they got closer and closer to the blaring country music. “You can’t get a more American experience than this!”

Lando and Oscar looked at each other for a moment before shaking their heads, smiling despite how ridiculous this all seemed. Lando had no interest in watching animals run around in dirt while shitty music blared through speakers all the while someone’s beer might be spilling on him. Then again, maybe he was being cynical and the South was about to be full of surprises.

The whole venue was crowded, making it seem even hotter despite the setting Texas sun. There was a carnival going on as well, a good chunk of people still running around playing games or going on rides. The other half were pouring through the large open doors, the Mclaren Formula One team being a part of it.

It was loud, the metal ceiling and walls echoing the sound of music and people talking and shouting. It was lively, he could admit that. Maybe it would even be fun drunk, but that was a big no go in regard to the rule book of a race weekend.

Someone met them near the entrance, a man who clearly worked with the venue based on the obvious cowboy get up he had on. Boots, hat, the whole thing. Zak did most of the talking while Lando and Oscar looked around curiously, watching as people bustled about and waving at those who recognized them.

Eventually they were led to a section close to the floor, front row seats to all the action. Neither driver really knew what to expect, but the very last thing Lando was anticipating was seeing the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on riding out on horseback.

He was awestruck immediately, his eyes not leaving her as she made her way around the perimeter, smiling and waving as she went. Fuck, she was stunning. Her skin was tan and glowing, her grin bright and brown hair tucked loosely under a cowboy hat. He felt his heart skip a beat as she got closer and closer to where he was sitting, and Lando became acutely aware of himself as he leaned his elbows against the railing. Hoping he didn’t look like a dumbass and for once hoping he didn’t look too British.

Would she even be interested in an Englishman? The thoughts running through his head were ridiculous but everything seemed to go mute as she passed right by him. Tipping her hat down and sending him a wink before the horse continued on its path.

“Careful mate, I think you’re drooling.” Oscar laughed from next to him, nudging him knowingly.

“Shut up, Osc.” Lando barely spared his teammate a glance before he tracked his gaze back to her. Watching in awe as she did whatever the hell she was doing, maneuvering the horse expertly around obstacles, dirt kicking up around her but her face didn’t give anything away but pure determination and focus. He’d never seen anything so graceful.

The rest of the night he kept an eye on her whenever he was able to, his gaze flicking up to the big screen to catch her name anytime she was shown on camera. When she laughed at something her friend said, her head thrown back and eyes crinkling, he thought the earth was opening up underneath him with the desperation to hear the sound of it.

When the rodeo was over, Oscar just about had to drag him away from the railing to get him to leave. “I’m sure this is how your fans feel,” the Australian joked, not at all bothered by the glare Lando was throwing his way.

“I’m not her fan. Merely an admirer.”

“And I'm sure that’s the mindset all your fans have. Besides,” he gestured to where a decently large group of men were waiting near the exit at the back of the expo center shouting her name. “Seems she already has groupies.”

Lando ticked his jaw, not seeing how waiting around would help them at all. He didn’t want to pull the I’m an F1 driver card because then he’d come off like a complete arse. So, cutting his losses he followed everyone else and headed into downtown Austin to find a bar to attend.

Not that he saw the point given; no drinking.

The music was even louder in the bar that was also combined with that he knew very little about like line dancing. Mulling over his water as he scrolled through his phone, he hesitated for a moment before typing her name into instagram.

“Christ,” he muttered. Every time he saw her she seemed to get prettier.

He debated on following her but he knew someone somewhere would take notice and spin it into something it’s not. Even if he wished there was something to blow out of proportion.

Someone bumped his arm and his thumb hit the follow button.

Lando blinked at his phone for a moment, watching her follow count tick up by one and he squeezed his eyes shut. Letting out a sigh he shoved his phone back in his pocket, no point in undoing that hiccup given she’d see the notification. Some small part of himself, or maybe a larger portion, wanted her to take notice. Take an interest, and maybe follow him back. Hell, he’d beg the universe for a DM if he had to.

Oscar appeared and gestured with a hand, smiling as if he knew something. “Look who it is.”

Following his friend’s gaze, Lando looked around before his eyes fell on what Oscar was looking so fucking smug about.

There she was, barely twenty feet away and leaning against the bar. Her smile was contagious as she talked with her friends animatedly with her hands.

“Go and talk to her.”

Lando spun around, looking at Oscar as if he just suggested he commit suicide. “What?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Since when are you nervous when it comes to girls? Just go and say hi.”

“I’ll look like a stalker who followed her here from the rodeo.”

“Right, like she even remembers seeing you.”

Lando's hands went to cover his heart, his features warped into offense. “Ouch, Osc. Low blow.”

The Aussie was hearing none of it as he lightly took hold of Lando’s hoodie and shoved him in her direction. “Thank me later.”

His annoyance wasn’t all that genuine, in fact he was thankful for the shove of encouragement as he made his way over to her. Fuck, was his hair alright? Did he smell bad? He’d been sweating all day. He hadn’t even talked to her yet and she had his mind reverting back into his insecure teenage self.

She caught his eye before he was too close, recognition flashing briefly across her face as her friends continued to talk. Her smile slipped into something more sultry- more knowing. Like she knew exactly why he was here. He wouldn’t be surprised if she got approached a lot, she was stunning.

He came to a stop, her friends' voices slowly fading into silence as they all looked at him. The air tense and a bit awkward but he forced a casual laugh. “Hi.”

Was that really all he had?

She bit her bottom lip, clearly amused by him before he was finally graced by the sound of her voice. “Howdy.”

Even that was heavenly.

“Do people here really say that?” Stupid non flirtatious things were pouring out of his mouth.

Her and her friends laughed, looking at him as if he was a court jester and he wanted to punch Oscar next time he saw him.

“Do you really say cheerio?”

This time he laughed, feeling more relaxed and he shook his head. “No, I don’t at least.”

Her pale green eyes slated to her friends for a moment, something silent passing between them and before he knew it they were alone. She gestured her head for him to come and stand beside her and Lando obliged like a lovesick puppy.

She leaned in close, the smell of her perfume mixed with polished leather was addictive and he wanted to bottle up the scent and keep it forever. “For the record,” she began, her accent light but noticeable. “I do say howdy as a greeting.”

He grinned at her, leaning down to match the level of her gaze and her slight whisper. “It’s cute.”

Her eyes flicked over his face, taking in his features and for the briefest moment her gaze danced over his lips. Making him feel dizzy and he wondered what the woman was doing to him.

She leaned back slightly and took a sip of her drink. “I saw you at the rodeo earlier.”

“I’m glad I’m memorable.”

“You’re hard to miss. You don’t exactly scream you’re from the south. Especially wearing this when it’s almost a hundred out.” She tugged lightly at the string of his hoodie, her lips pulled back in a playful smile and he wished he could just grab her and kiss her. The thought was overwhelming but he had to remind himself not to be an absolute creep.

“Well, it seems the stars are aligning then. I was hoping I’d get to run into you at some point.”

“You sure you didn’t stalk me Mr. Norris?”

He blinked at her. “You know who I am?”

Her cheeks were dusted a rosy pink as she waved her phone at him, his instagram page glowing at him and he shut his eyes. “That was an accident and a coincidence that you happened to be here.”

“Aw, and here I was being flattered.” She scrolled through his page, a giggle leaving her as she came across a picture of him in the ocean with mud all over his face and wearing a pair of sunglasses.

“No, don’t look-“ he tried to cover her screen with his hand but she took hold of his wrist and playfully shoved him away.

“This is golden.” She laughed. “This is what millionaires get up to?”

“You’re looking at all the wrong pictures.” He tried to reason, surely blushing as he made to cover her phone again and she pushed him away, this time with her hip and he felt his mind slip into a numbness that craved her touch again. She was pressed against him now, laughing for another moment before she eventually followed him back.

Her back pressed against his chest, turning to look at him over her shoulder and flashing the screen at him. “There.”

He looked down at her and completely ignored the phone, one hand falling to her waist absentmindedly as his other arm kept him upright against the counter of the bar. Her face was so close and he took in every minute detail. The way her skin glowed, dusted with a faint blush. Her nose was adorable and long lashes fanned out over her glowing eyes.

She was breathtaking.

The feeling of pure want coursed through every nerve in his body, acutely aware of the pressure of her against him. Her jeans tight around her hips and thighs before beginning to flare out and her top was snug fitting and complimented her wonderfully.

His grip on her waist tightened and he heard her breath hitch as she blinked up at him, her pupils blown wide and the smile that stretched his lips was anything but innocent.

Lando had her.

They barely made it into the back seat of her truck before his mouth was colliding with hers in a way that was almost violent as they fell back onto the seats. Lando settled himself between her legs, grinding against her in a way that was shattering his sanity second by second.

Her nails raked up from his neck and into his hair, a groan escaping him and being swallowed up by her mouth. She tasted sweet and had the faint taste of whiskey on her tongue, utterly maddening and he would never get enough of it.

“Take this damn thing off,” she managed to say between bites and kisses, tugging impatiently at his hoodie.

He smiled into the kiss, his hands blindly taking hold of the hem of the fabric before breaking away for a moment to rip it over his head. The truck was a bit cramped but he’d make it work, his mind was consumed by her at the moment and he wanted this to last for an eternity.

Her nails dragged down his body, letting out a content sigh as she took in the sight of his tanned skin and muscle, her fingers hooking into the belt loops of his trousers and the way she looked up at him would’ve been enough to send him over the edge. The sight was heavenly and the innocent look to her in that moment as her brown hair fanned out around her like a nimbus was devastating.

Lando reached forward and took hold of her cowboy hat that had gotten knocked off and placed it on his head, sending her a wink.

When a mewling sound left the back of her throat he raised a brow at her and he felt his cock get impossibly harder. Lando smiled down at her knowingly as he began to undo his belt. “Is this really doing it for you, darling?”

Her eyes nearly looked black with desire as her gaze trailed up from what his hands were doing to his face. “You have no fucking idea.”

He tugged his belt off and tossed it to the side, but before he worked on undressing himself further his fingers danced out and began undoing each button of her too tight shirt. Her breasts had already been tugging at the seams so when he popped one open they practically spilled out for him. No bra and on display and the sound that left him felt primal.

Lando needed her. All of her. Everywhere and every second of the day. If he could have her the way he wanted as he pleased he even considered fucking her in the middle of the paddock if she let him.

His fingers trailed down further and made easy work of her belt and zipper before he leaned back and took hold of each of her legs to rest them on his shoulders. “Lift up for me, baby.”

She didn’t hesitate as she lifted her hips for him and the immediate submissiveness made his mind melt into a puddle of pure desire. He tugged her boots off and then her jeans, and when the sight of her lacy white underwear graced his vision he suddenly wished they would’ve had the patience to get to the hotel.

“Fuck, I bet you taste incredible.”

But there was simply no room. He half debated on saying fuck it and bring her to the bed of the truck so he could ruin her in every way he was dreaming about, but that would probably lead to an arrest and a very unhappy meeting with the team and stewards.

“Please.” Her tone was needy, desperate even as she lifted her hips to him in an attempt to get her closer. There was already a damp spot appearing and Lando wanted to take her away and keep her to himself for the rest of his life.

“Where have you been all my life?” He sighed, his fingers dancing down her thighs and delighting in the way she trembled against his touch. “Tell me what you need.”

She bit her lip so hard he thought it might bleed and his hands dug into the soft flesh of her thighs, earning himself a moan from the back of her throat. “Use your words, baby. I need to hear you.”

“Fuck me, please.” She yanked his hips flush against hers by his belt loops. “And please lord, keep that hat on.”

His grin was wicked as he leaned down to capture her lips again, open mouthed and sloppy. His tongue dancing against hers and exploring, teeth clinking together as he pulled himself out from his trousers and used his other hand to tug her underwear to the side.

Lando never skipped foreplay but he was desperate and so was she. Not to mention she was practically dripping already and when the tip of his cock rubbed against her entrance and clit he shuddered as she let out a gasp, her nails digging into his back.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, darling.”

“Please,” she choked out, pulling him even closer by the back of his neck and kissing him.

When Lando sank into her till his hips were flush against hers he knew he finally found salvation. Purpose is what it felt like. The missing part of his life that he hadn’t even been aware of but now made him whole. He groaned into her mouth, matching her moan.

She was so warm and tight, the muscles of her cunt clenching around him. “You take me so well,” he ground out as he pulled his hips back and watched as he sunk back into her pussy slowly. The sight was other worldly. He wanted to film it but he was now determined that this would not be the last time he had his way with her.

She grinded her hips against him, matching his agonizingly slow rhythm and trying to get more. More satisfaction and he laughed at her desperation before burying his face in her neck, sucking and biting as he continued the slow pace.

“Lando, harder.” She gasped out, clutching at his shoulder with one hand while her other twined in the curly hair at the nape of his neck that was peaking out from under the cowboy hat.

He pulled back, teeth tugging at her skin before he released it with a pop. He got a little carried away, a hickey on her neck already forming but he couldn’t find himself to care as he got lost in the sensation of her cunt around his cock. She was perfectly made for him.

His hands pressed into the seat on either side of her head. “Open.” His tone was sharp and her lips parted immediately at the command. He smiled as he let saliva drip from his tongue and into her mouth, not giving her a moment to get a grip on reality before he then spit on her at the exact same time he pulled his hips back and snapped them hardly forward, burying his cock even deeper inside her.

She let out a cry, pleasure mixing with pain as he brushed against her cervix before pulling back and dragging against her g-spot, only to repeat the process over and over again. Bending her knees up so he could get a better angle, his thrusts brutal and being driven mad by the sound of his name being cried from her lips.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he said through heavy pants, watching her unravel beneath him and when his eyes caught sight on her naval the sound that left him didn’t even sound like himself.

Lando could see the outline of his cock as he fucked her, her smaller and skinnier size making it easier. “Oh fuck, you’re gonna kill me, baby. Look at you.” He pressed a hand gently to her stomach, feeling himself thrust in and out.

She bucked against him at the added sensation, tears streaming from her eyes and leaving pretty trails of mascara down her cheeks.

“Lando, oh my god—“ a scream left her as his other hand began rubbing tight circles into her clit. “I’m gonna—“

“Do you want to come on my cock, darling?”

She nodded, words lost on her and Lando knew he was on the verge of crashing as well. Feeling each of his nerves winding tightly. “Why don’t we come together, can you do that for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Please.”

“Such a good girl,” he praised, his tone soft. A complete antithesis to the almost violent pace of his cock slamming into her.

He switched the direction of his fingers on her clit. “Now, darling.”

Not a moment later she was convulsing against him, her cunt clamping down in his cock and Lando groaned out her name as he threw his head back, his cum filling her up nicely as the muscles in his stomach clenched. Sweat was coating both their bodies, all the windows completely fogged up and he felt delirious as he collapsed on top of her, settling comfortably between her hips and still buried inside of her.

He could both feel and hear her rapid heart beat, her warm breath coating the side of his neck as she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.

“God, I love the English,” she muttered breathlessly against him and he laughed, loving the way she fit so snugly against him.

“And I’m in love with this form of southern hospitality.”

She snorted, the sound heartbreakingly adorable and he never wanted to let go of her. “All I said to you was howdy.”

He turned his face to hers, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “Say y’all.”

She raised a brow at him but complied. “Y’all?”

He groaned and kissed her through her laughter. “I’m done for.”

Eventually, and not with any thrill, he had to pull out of her and she shivered as he did so. Picking up his discarded hoodie from the floor, he gestured for her to sit up. “Lift your arms,” his voice was soft and his heart clenched as she smiled at him, doing as told.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him but he felt like he was struck by cupid’s arrow or something. Lando didn’t want this night to end and he wanted to see her tomorrow. And the next day, and the next. He wanted her by his side till he was rotting away in the earth.

He needed to thank Oscar next time he saw him.

Slipping the hoodie on her, he brushed the hair out of her eyes and dusted his thumbs over her cheekbones as he cradled her face. The air was quiet but not tense, a comfortable silence and he sighed slightly through his nose.

“What?” She asked, her brows furrowed and her smile timid. A bit shy despite the events that just unfolded.

“Would it be mental to ask you to come to the race this weekend?”

His eyes caught her tongue as it darted out to wet her lips, which were slowly forming into a grin. “I would love to, but I don’t know anything about it.”

He shrugged, pulling her in gently by hooking a finger into the collar of his hoodie she was wearing. “Just cheer for car number four and I’ll be on top of the world.”

She bit her lip, eyes searching his before she nodded. “Okay, but I want to do something for you.”

“You don’t need to—“

“It’ll be fun.” She reached her hands up and straightened the cowboy hat on his head. “Besides I haven’t seen enough of you dressed like this yet.”

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, youruser, oscarpiastri and 307,284 others

landonorris am i doing this right?

photo creds and tour of austin courtesy of youruser

*tap to load more comments*

userone: THIS IS EVERYTHING

youruser: you are definitely doing this right

landonorris: taught by the best

oscarpiastri: i’m still waiting on a thank you

landonorris: shut up

usertwo: i need to know the tea

userthree: AND WHOS THE GIRL???

f1wags

liked by 56,029 others

f1wags oh? who’s this? potentially a new wag spotted in the paddock this weekend at the usgp and rooting for lando norris!! some sources say they were seen together afterward, but nothing is set in stone yet! pictured is; youruser

*tap to load more comments*

userone: OH MY GOD THEY WOULD LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER

usertwo: right?? i hope it’s true

userthree: lando dating a cowgirl is not something i knew i needed

userfour: ew? really? not an american LMAO

userfive: she’s literally stunning what do you mean

usersix: the way she was screaming and cheering for him has me SOBBING she already seems so supportive

userseven: everyone needs to chill we don’t even know if they’re together, just because they follow one another doesn’t mean anything

usereight: you must be fun at parties

youruser

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lilyzneimer, iamrebeccad and 67, 892 others

youruser south side of heaven

*tap to load more comments*

userone: PLS TELL ME THATS LANDO

usertwo: oh my god?? all the wags liking it???

userthree: CHAT PLS I NEED HER AND LANDO TO BE REAL

userfour: he’s been seen in texas NUMEROUS times over the break istg i think they are dating

landonorris and youruser

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 702,299 others

landonorris happy birthday pretty girl

*tap to load more comments*

userone: oh. my. GOD

usertwo: I KNEW IT

carlossainz55: the black and white made me think she had passed

youruser: i thought i missed my own funeral

landonorris: i hate you both

userthree: IM LOSING MY MIND WKSKSJW

userfour: he looks so happy IM SOBBING

taglist: @theonottsbxtch @fortunapre @ashbone @c8lap1nto @taasgirl @stopeatread @dying-inside-but-its-classy

[rinhaler]

i cant stop thinking abt noncon + stepcest Rin who cant control himself anymore after noticing how much his lil step-sister has grown since he was away bc of soccer n shit yk..

(btw your blog is goated)

GOATED WHAT A COMPLIMENT AKGHDSAKLH thank u very much I hope u enjoy this <3

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, stepcest, dub/noncon, slight fingering, vaginal sex, nii-chan/rin-nii used, slight degradation, praise, dacryphilia, calls ur pussy 'she', shush kink?

words: 2k

“You’re always flirting with me.” Rin speaks. It’s the first time he’s said anything to you since he got back from Paris. He’s always been cold with you, short-tempered and even cruel. But you hadn’t expected to hear him say something like that.

You scoff, shuffling your position on the couch to get more comfortable to read your magazine. He always notes how often you change your position when you read; you can never sit still for more than a few minutes. You often read with your bedroom door open, and if he passes by to go to the bathroom, you’re always in a different position by the time he walks back to his room again.

“What was that?” he asks, pulling a disgruntled face at your dismissive response. “You think you don’t? You only wear short skirts when I’m visiting. I see your socials.”

“Oh… so, you’re stalking me then?” you giggle. “Don’t flatter yourself, Rin-nii… I jus’ feel pretty like this.” you defend yourself despite knowing he’s right. He thinks you’re dumb, and the fact that you smile and giggle after every word is a dead giveaway. You’re a flirt, and you’re a liar.

He also hates that you’re absolutely right.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t check your social media profiles. He likes to see what you’re up to and who you’re seeing. It’s only been a recent development, though, he saw a particularly sultry post on your Instagram and he quite frankly hasn’t been the same since. He hadn’t realised you’d grown so much and come into your own. He can’t get you out of his mind.

You gulp a little as he leans forward, his fingers lingering on your chin and guiding your eyes to meet his own. He doesn’t speak immediately. Instead, he opts to examine your responses. The way your forehead forms a tiny bead of sweat under the pressure of his gaze. The way your tongue quickly swipes over your plump lips when his eyes drift to stare at them. The way your breasts almost spill with each heave of your chest as you try and keep your composure.

“Be grateful, little sister. Good nii-chan’s keep an eye on their little sister’s, you know.” he tells you matter-of-factly.

“T- uh, thank you, Rin-nii…” is all you can muster beneath his intense stare. He smirks, too fucking coolly before withdrawing. You close your magazine and stand up, desperate to hurry to your room to calm your nerves. He watches you walk away as he flicks through the channels on the TV.

“Oh God, miss you on my lips… hm-mm-mm…” you sing along with your record player as you listen to Lana Del Rey, following a muted makeup tutorial on your phone to pass the time. You grunt in annoyance when you realise that maybe you aren’t destined to perfect winged eyeliner today.

After locking your phone, you immediately tap the screen to see the time. You almost gasp as you realise it’s 7PM and five hours have passed since you last checked what time it is. Dinner will be ready soon, you grab a makeup wipe and begin to cleanse your skin. You should probably do your skincare, too, but it can wait until right before bedtime.

You examine your face to see if you’ve missed any makeup. Your eyeliner is stubborn but eventually comes off. And so with that, you get up to toss the wipe into the bin in your room.

“Jesus Chri— Rin! What are you doing?” you ask, spotting your elder brother in the doorway of your room. His eyes follow the stained wipe as you drop it into the bin, but his eyes linger on you once more as you wait for him to answer. “Oh… is there something on my face? Thought I got it all…” you tell him, leaning over your dressing table again to make sure your face is spotless.

“Tell me the truth.” he sighs, entering your room without closing the door. You look at him through your mirror before you turn to face him, an eyebrow quirked in confusion as he continues to close the distance. “You flirt with me.”

“This again?” you laugh. You lean back against your dressing table, fingers curling beneath the tabletop as you cross one ankle over the other. You feel heady as he gets closer and you smell his cologne. It doesn’t suit him, you think, but it’s nice. The scent is generic and sporty but Rin Itoshi himself is nothing close to generic.

Though it doesn’t matter, ultimately, not when it’s flooding your senses and drowning your mind.

“You’ve gotten so big…” he sighs, placing a hand on your hip. He smirks at how you shudder from his touch on your bare skin. Your watery eyes make his heart swell, unable to believe how trusting you are. You don’t stop him when his hand smooths over the curve of your ass and fingers dip under your skirt, though you’re trembling. Thick fingers prod at your panties and a tiny mewl escapes your lips. A condescending chuckle leaves him as you uncross your legs, widening them to give him better access. “Your panties are soaked. I knew you wanted me…”

You grab his wrist, urging him to stop when you remember the bedroom door is still wide open. It doesn’t deter him, though. His heavy fingers still press against the material covering your cute little cunt, his bulge growing tenfold when he pushes by your puffy lips to tease your throbbing clit.

“Don’t act coy, now. I know you want this, you opened your legs for nii-chan to play with you.”

“We can’t.” you whisper, biting your lip in a feeble attempt to stifle yourself. “Not l-like this! Not when they’re home… please nii-chan.” you beg, though it’s fruitless. Your eyes flutter closed as his head sinks, his lips meeting your neck to kiss you delicately.

You barely have the energy to fight when he encourages you to hook your legs around his waist. He carries you to the bed, mumbles of protest leave you but you don’t dare make too much noise and draw attention.

“Has to be now, princess.” he tells you. “Don’t know when we’ll get a better chance.” he continues.

You’re trapped beneath him, making a point of looking away from him as he humps against you pathetically. And you want him, of course you want him, but the risk is too high. He’s lost all sense, instead thinking with his cock rather than his brain. But you’re not too far gone yet. You can put a stop to this.

It needs to stop.

“Why are you being like this?” he wonders as he pulls out his length, jerking it slowly all the while still humping the tip against your clothed, wet panties. “I have to do this… little sister. I have to know how tight you are around me.”

“Another time, please! What if we get caught? P-Please stop, you’re smarter than this!” you beg once again, the request falling on deaf ears. You gulp as you feel his fingers hook under the gusset of your panties, moving the material into the crease of your thigh. Your voice breaks, a whiny moan following as he presses his tip into your sticky cunt. The stretch is heavenly, and you can barely catch your breath. His glimmering green eyes staring down at you as he inches further and further into your welcoming warmth makes you feel humiliated. You don’t want this, but fucking hell, you really do. “Aaah~!” you sob.

His palm flies to your mouth, the pressure almost suffocating as lust blown eyes turn impatient.

“Shut the fuck up,” he whispers, still bullying his cock into you. “Gotta be quiet, don’t want our parents to see what a little slut you are for nii-chan, yeah?” he warns you.

You don’t know what to do with yourself. You aren’t sure where to put your hands. They grip into the duvet below before you begin pulling at his shirt. He doesn’t have the patience to take it off, though, not when you’re sucking him in and squeezing around him like a fucking virgin. Are you? He doesn’t want to know. His head dips as your nails begin to claw up his back, marking your territory unintentionally.

He moves his leg, hooking his ankle around yours to keep your thigh pinned in place and open wide. You feel him hold your other ankle briefly, kissing it softly before he moves his hand under the bend of your knee. Your eyes cross as he pushes your leg until your opened up for him like a blooming flower. The new angle is monstrous, his thick, intimidating length reaching depths you didn’t even know existed.

He groans as he watches tears roll out of your innocent eyes. Those trusting eyes that didn’t think your nii-chan could be capable of something so salacious. He’s sure he won’t last long. Not when your clamping around him like this and looking at him with those pathetically wet eyes. You’re mumbling something beneath his dampening palm, but he isn’t stupid enough to free your airways and risk you crying out needily for your dear nii-chan.

You panic as you feel him withdraw his length, though deep down you know it’s for the best. But your eyes roll over white as you feel him stab it in again.

“Pretty little sister… want you to cream this cock for me…” he announces, repeating the motion again and again as he basks in the way you can barely look at him in your ecstasy. He can’t take his eyes off you, though. He doubts he’s ever seen a more beautiful sight. “I’m gonna cum inside, princess. I belong inside, yeah?”

You shake your head, his words stirring in your mind and bringing your senses back once more. Oh God, he can’t. You’re on the pill, all should be fine if he does cum inside but it’s so damn wrong.

“Did you just say no to your nii-chan? I don’t like that answer.” he replies, his hips picking up the pace again. His body shimmers with a sheen of sweat, and his breathless pants become heavier. “You should be begging me for my cum. I’m sure you didn’t mean it, don’t worry, I’ll give it to you.” he continues. Each thrust of his hips is deep and powerful and you’re sure your inner thighs might be developing bruises.

You whimper, again, knowing you can’t do anything to change his mind.

“Your pussy is so cute… think your clit needs some attention, though. Touch yourself for me, let me watch.” he requests. “Go on… she’s so swollen.”

It’s like being hypnotised. Your dominant hand flies to your cunt and begins to rub your needy clit. And it’s minimal, after barely any touching at all and you’re creaming for your beloved nii-chan. The sight is too much for your brother and the way your walls squeeze him for all he’s worth are an additional lure into his release. His own eyes turn white briefly before he looks down at where you’re joined. Your combined coupling forming a beautiful white ring around the base of his cock with every shallow impale.

“F-Fuck… don’t wanna pull out.” he tells you, finally uncovering your mouth to kiss your lips intimately.

You’re speechless. You aren’t surprised your brother is so experienced or so filthy with his words. Not when he’s travels and fucks girls around the world. But how are you meant to be without him now? When he goes away again… how will you stand it? His cock is made for you, of that, you’re sure. But you doubt he’ll keep it in his pants for your benefit.

Fuck, this was a mistake.

“Dinner’s ready!” your mother calls up the stairs, your nii-chan’s hand instinctively flies to your mouth and he shushes you before chuckling again.

You cry desperately as he withdraws his softening length from your twitching hole. But neediness turns to discomfort as you feel your brothers fingers move the gusset of your panties back into place. It’s so wet and sticky and gross, your face distorts at the unpleasant feeling.

“Come on, don’t want to be late, do we?”

© 2023 rinitxshi

[leebitofficial]

come to bed?

fluffy! hyunjin x reader,

2am, you quietly enter your home. it’s dark, it’s quiet, no sign of hyunjin.

the smell of freshly baked bread still lingers after hyunjin spent the evening trying to recreate his mother’s apple bread.

tiptoeing into the bedroom, you’re careful not to wake your sleeping boyfriend.

dropping your bags, you hear shuffling coming from the bed.

“baby?” hyunjin peeks from under the covers.

“oh- i’m sorry! did i wake you?” you worry.

“no, no, i’ve been up for a while. come to bed?” he ushers you.

“i will, need to shower first though.” you reassure your impatient lover.

he whines in protest as you bend to give him a quick kiss on the forehead before you maliciously abandon him yet again.

you hurriedly shower, eager to finally get some time with hyunjin after your long night.

finally climbing into your comfortable bed, hyunjin turns around to wrap his arms around you and hold you impossibly close, placing a few very soft kisses along your crown.

“how was it? did you have fun?” he asks, brushing your hair through his fingers.

“i guess it was fun, missed you though. it’s just hard to have fun being away from-”

her.

there’s that familiar sound again.

“i got it, you’re tired, go to sleep.” he spoke before kissing your forehead and unbinding you from each other.

rolling over and grabbing the baby monitor from his bedside, hyunjin mutes it before hopping out of bed.

he’s already heading out the door of your bedroom before you could say a word.

he told you to stay but you can’t help it. you follow behind him quickly, a man on a mission, his long legs carrying faster than yours ever could this late into the night.

nearly out of breath, placing your hands on his hips, you peek from behind hyunjin.

normally he would jump at the sudden touch from behind, but he was far too focused on the issue at hand.

“aigoo~ why is my baby crying?” he coos as he gently picks her up from her crib. he holds her gently in his arms and begins to ever-so-lightly rock her.

almost immediately she stops crying.

all you can do is sit back and watch in awe.

hyunjin has always been the favorite between the two of you, but you don’t really mind. she’s still your baby and of course she still loves you with all the emotion she can process at six months old.

she’s such a daddy’s girl and it absolutely melts your heart.

you sit on the chair in the corner of the room, overwhelmed with drowsiness. through tired eyes, you watch your boyfriend sing a makeshift song to try and get your daughter back to sleep.

“i think she’s hungry” he says as he turns to you sitting behind him.

except you’re sound asleep.

so once he’s finished feeding your daughter and putting her back to sleep, he gently scoops you from the chair, careful not to wake you— though not successful— and takes you back to bed.

you let out a whine in protest of him disturbing your sleep, but that doesn’t stop him from ensuring you’re comfortable. he tucks you in before then tucking himself in, settling into your previous position with your limbs intertwined, and placing kisses on your temple with some incoherent whispers in between.

forget his career, he’d rather spend his life taking care of the two of you if it meant moments like this.

a/n: i literally wrote this months ago and never posted it but baby fever got the best of me 💔

[snootlestheangel]

Hear Me Out

Guys, just, hear me out: YouTubers/Streamers AU for COD. There was a series of posts on @cod-dump 's blog about what games are banned for the boys and I've just been thinking about this but with Ghost, Gaz, Soap, and Alex where one of them is the actual streamer/gamer dude and the others just almost always play with him (maybe Roach if we went on the path that he's not actually mute, just kinda hates talking)

Retired or discharged for whatever reasons, the 141 are actually kinda happy to be living semi-normal lives. Maybe they're not all entirely civilian now, maybe Price has a position that doesn't require him to be on the field but he's still teaching/being a Captain.

But he's constantly telling the boys to find things to do to keep themselves happy. Especially Gaz and Soap, cause the military is kind of all they know, they've never had to be civilians really as adults.

Ghost is transitioning fine, and he's been a huge help for Soap, but Gaz is still kinda struggling. Eventually something happens and Alex is part of his life, but it's still not really what Gaz needs to feel "normal".

So Soap and Alex convince Gaz to start streaming/recording videos of their gaming sessions. It's a slow start, and Gaz is getting frustrated.

Until one time they play something silly but incredibly rage-inducing. It's a trending game because it's designed to pit you against your friends but is still silly nonetheless. There's one clip in particular that starts trending and becomes the reason Gaz's channel starts to take off.

The clip? Gaz yelling at Soap for something and Soap immediately just cursing him out in straight Scots only for Alex, an American, to scream into his mic as loud as humanly possible "WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETER?!?!" after having been dead silent for the last 2 minutes. Why did he scream this? Not because of Soap's Scots, but because he had secretly just won the round after having lost the entire time they'd been playing.

People eat that shit up! Suddenly everyone's like "damn there's this hella attractive dude that records gameplay with his friends and they're all really funny." Everyone falls in love with Gaz's appearance first, but then they actually hear him and his friends interact and it's just trading insults and stupid jokes, acting like there's no one watching and they're suddenly kids again.

It eventually comes out that Gaz and his friends are all veterans, and despite the air around military not being the best, there's no denying that caring for veterans is a must. People slowly start to support Gaz's channel/streams, and before he knows it, he's actually got quite the following. His whole thing is about "wanting to do something to distract himself and others from the shitty aspects of life with a few laughs and some good games"

Eventually they convince Ghost to start gaming with them. It makes Gaz's popularity grow because now there's this really deep accent in the mix that's completely clueless as to what he's doing like 90% of the time (I just have this gut feeling that '22 Ghost is so fucking awful at video games) that they refer to simply as "Ghost". Suddenly, the chaos Gaz and his friends are known for increases tenfold. Ghost is flirting with all of them, Soap is arguing with him over literal couple things that come with living together, and there's a new element of really dark humor that wasn't there before (there was dark humor, just not this dark)

They're playing The Backrooms one time. They're not even in the game yet, just in the lobby. Gaz is laughing at Alex's tag for the game "MYLEG!" which is a reference to that one fish in Spongebob always yelling "my leg!" after an incident. Gaz is laughing too hard to actually explain to his viewers that, yes, Alex is an amputee. Soap starts making fun of him, as usual, and that's when it happens.

Alex: "I'll take my leg off and hit you with it, Soap, I swear to god." Soap: "I forgot you were already missing one for a second there and got real concerned." Alex: "No, Soap, I planned on removing my other leg. The one that's still attached, yeah. Just like a lil *pop noise*, ya know?" Gaz: *wheezing so hard he almost throws up*

Then they're playing this silly monster/cryptid hunter game called "A Day Out" and there's skeletons every now and then on the map. Gaz walks up to one and just starts freaking out, saying Ghost's name over and over.

Ghost, freaked out: What?? Gaz, pointing at the skeleton: Look, it's you! *cackling* Ghost, after a concerning long pause: *quietly* Nah, I'm not gonna say that Alex: SAY IT COWARD Ghost: No, that's my brother *Gaz making the most horrified face as he tries not to laugh* *Alex and Soap are losing their shit* Gaz: NAH THAT'S NOT OKAY

That clip posts and the internet looses it. I see this being the actual first video Ghost is in, so for this to be the first thing the viewers get of him, it's safe to say he's a hit. It's also never explained that Ghost does have a deceased brother, so there's just an acceptance of Ghost's skeleton brother.

There's several times where they've all gotten together and played silly games like Mario Kart when there's a bunch of them. There's the sober one and there's the drunk one, where there's so many different languages being hurled as curses at each other, Gaz gives up on captioning ANY of it.

OOOOooooooooohhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! WHAT IF! Roach becomes his editor once he gets popular enough so he can spend more time playing games, solo ones when the others are working.

For a while, everyone's going crazy wanting to see what the others all look like, and sometimes (cause we're assuming the world they live in now during all this is a lot better), they're joined by Rudy or Alejandro, or both in one rare instance. Sometimes, for old times's sake, during the drunk gaming sessions, they'll call Laswell only for her to scold them. There are times they'll bully Roach who always, as the editor, changes their words from the insults to compliments. Or he definitely trolls Gaz a lot with some of the editing, and it's all around just a good time. Hence why everyone wants to know what they look like.

Then it's around the holidays after about 2 and a half years of Gaz's channel being as popular as it is. He posts a single picture on his socials with a group of people and the caption: "Love seeing the boys over the holidays."

It's such a nice photo; Alex with an arm wrapped around Gaz's shoulders, Soap and Ghost on his other side with Roach between Soap and Gaz.

And the internet has once again gone crazy. Why? Cause not only are these dudes fucking hilarious, but they're hot and taken.

Except, as they all end up teasing him about, Roach is very much still single XD

I have been watching too much YouTube lately, can y'all tell?? Haha anyways back to my hole I shall crawl

[striveattemptfail]

Minor Differences | Logan Howlett & Wade Wilson, 1.9k, PG-13

@poolvertober: Day 20 – Pop Culture

Summary: Five times Logan learns something new about the timeline he's in (and one time it was for the better). Inspired by this post by @nichknack. Rated for language. Takes place some time after the movie's events; just assume Logan and Wade are back-up X-Men. More gen than slash but we all know the truth ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Read on Ao3

A/N: Once again, I'm taking today's prompt fast and loose so forgive me in advance 😅🙏 Un-beta'd but quite frankly it's a miracle I even finished on time lmao. Can you believe this was originally supposed to be ~600 words? (ノ_<、)

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

The first time Logan notices that his new timeline isn’t identical to his old one, it’s over a subtle name change.

He’s reading the Saturday paper in the living room, Wade watching some reality show on the seat next to him with Mary Puppins in his lap, when Althea leaves her room and shuffles into the kitchen.

“Alexa,” she calls out, “what time is it?”

A robotic voice replies, “The time is 5:43pm.”

Logan drops the newspaper from obscuring his face. He immediately finds the source of the reply on the coffee table: a grey, cylindrical device that looks like a mini speaker, control buttons on its side. It blinks a turquoise light around the rim until the light turns off with a muted beep at the extended silence.

“What the fuck?” he wonders out loud, surprised to see such a familiar gadget.

“Have you not interacted with an Echo before, peanut?” Wade asks. “Did you not have Bezos’ army of listening devices where you’re from?”

Althea barks out a hollow laugh. “You keep calling the damn thing a spy machine—”

“Because I don’t trust it!”

“—but you keep it right there anyway.” She scoffs, making her way to the fridge. “Fuckin’ hypocrite.”

“Well, it’s also convenient!” Wade argues. “Do you miss when I used to shoot the lights off?”

“What the fuck?” Logan says again, but for a completely different reason this time.

“Listen,” Wade starts, and from his tone Logan can tell some bullshit is about to leave his mouth, “sometimes a guy just wants to pass out after walking in at ass o’clock in the morning without having to get up when he forgets to deal with the lights!”

“So you shot the damn lights out?” Logan guesses. “Is that why all the light switch panels are just exposed? Because you shot the fuckin’ plates off?”

“Alexa, tell peanut to stop bullying me!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know that command,” the device says. “Would you like to—”

“Alexa, shut up.”

The cylinder goes quiet with a beep.

“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question,” Wade says before Logan gets a chance to berate him more. “Did your world not have Echos?”

“We did,” he admits, “but they were called Alexis.”

“Like Texas!” Wade shoots him a wink before chuckling to himself.

(Presumably to himself, because Logan has no clue what the fuck he’s talking about, as usual.)

Before either of them can elaborate, Althea yells from where she’s bent over in front of the open fridge, “Wade, did you put the fucking milk carton back empty again?!”

Their attention quickly shifts from there.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

The next time Logan notices, it’s over something equally innocuous.

He and Wade hate talking to the authorities when they finish a mission, but none of the X-Men who are way better suited to dealing with humans made it in time to stop their target. He and Wade finished the job before those asscracks even left the X-Mansion, which meant the two of them had to deal with the aftermath until someone more qualified arrived.

“I’ll play you for it!” Wade finally suggests after five whole minutes of arguing over who should talk to the police chief.

He sticks his hands out, a fist over a flat palm. Logan rolls his eyes but dutifully mimics the gesture.

“After three, okay?” Wade clarifies. “No cheating!”

“Let’s just get this the fuck over with.”

Wade nods once.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” he counts as Logan simultaneously chimes, “Paper, scissors, rock, bang!”

They don’t even look to see who won. Instead, they mirror each other’s expression: one of total confusion.

“Mr. Deadpool? Mr. Wolverine?” a voice calls behind them—Logan recognizes it as one of the younger detectives Wade was speaking to earlier. “We need one of you now, please.”

He and Wade finally both look at their hands.

Fuck.

“Ha ha, sucker!” Wades hollers, his rock crushing Logan’s scissors. He only grunts in response when Wade quite literally skips away after slapping Logan on the ass. Logan turns around with a flat expression and follows the detective to where the police chief is giving a statement to some reporter.

Whatever. The sooner this is done the sooner he and Wade can go home.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

Another time it happens, Logan’s not even sure if he even remembers the reference correctly.

He and Wade are at the X-Mansion for another mission, catching up with Ellie and Yukio inside the Blackbird jet while Colossus to grabs more a few more people. Logan’s not quite paying attention to the conversation’s details, more enamoured by the strange friendship the two girls have with Wade.

At some point, Ellie says something that makes Yukio giggle and shove her shoulder, causing Wade to cackle out, “Weird flex, but okay!”

Logan furrows his brows but doesn’t comment because Wade’s already pivoted the topic to something else.

He could swear that the saying was odd flex, but very well. If he actively recalls the kids from his old universe, that was what they used to say, right?

(Most days, he usually tries his best to not remember them. The pain may not be fresh anymore but it still hurts all the same. He’ll never be able to hear Kitty, or Jubilee, or Rogue, or Bobby cracking jokes he doesn’t understand but finds amusing nonetheless. Never again.)

Apparently, he’s still deep in thought by the time Laura walks up to him. Her face looks remarkably similar to one he sees on himself all the time—brows pinched, eyes narrowed, lips turned downward. At least on Laura the expression looks like a cute pout compared to Logan’s usual, unimpressed glare.

“What’s wrong?” She looks to the other three still caught up in their conversation, not paying Logan any mind. “Did they say something?”

Logan shakes his head. There’s no point in dwelling over the kids’ memes from his old life. He’s poked at those memories like an old bruise more than enough now.

“Nah,” he says, mostly telling the truth, “just remembered something.”

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

He finally catches on by the following incident.

A song has been driving Logan fucking crazy for the past four hours. The goddamn earworm simply refuses to get out of his head, even with Wade’s incessant rambling at his phone in the background. What he’s blabbing about right this moment, Logan has no clue, because lyrics are on loop in his brain and he can’t hear anything above it.

Time for a replay session, he supposes, taking a seat in the living room. Hopefully making his ears bleed from the melody on constant repeat will finally get it out of his head.

“Hey, bub, can you play that ‘Vegas glowing’ song by Handsome Delight on the Alexis?” he interjects in the middle of Wade’s rant.

Wade furrows his hairless brow-line. “Come again? This time in my ear? Also, it’s still just Alexa.”

“You know,” Logan says, followed by a vague hum. “You walk in over time / ‘Cause we both know you’re mine / Fallin’ straight, don’t look down / Las Vegas glowin’ on the town,” he sings, hoping he has the correct lyrics. “That one?”

“One: Excellent singing, honey badger! Do you practice scales when I’m not listening? Because that voice is—” Wade cuts off to do a chef’s kiss with his fingers. “Two: Nope! Still no clue what that song is.”

“Stop fuckin’ with me, Wade.” Logan grunts, remembering how annoyingly often the song was playing on the radio when he was bar hopping earlier this year. Wade listens to pop music almost exclusively—there’s no way he would’ve escaped this song. “It was in the Top 40s for months. You had to have heard of this.”

Wade just blinks at him. “I really, truly have not.”

“Wait,” he pauses in realization, “does Handsome Delight not exist here?”

“Never heard of them!” Wade confirms, shaking his head and starts typing away on his phone. “Aaaaand Google here only pulls up a very adorable cake when I search that name.” He shows his screen to Logan, who grumbles in frustration after squinting at the results.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding me.”

“Why? What’s up, buttercup?”

“Shit. The damn song’s stuck in my head but I only know that stupid part.” He groans at himself, throwing his head back onto the couch, miffed that he can’t scratch the song’s itch like he thought. “I was hoping I could put it on repeat so I’d finally get it out of my system.”

“Sorry, peanut!” Wade pats his shoulder. “If it helps though, I can sing anything you want to rid you of the earworm plaguing you! I’ll be your personal jukebox!”

His answer is automatic. “I’d rather chop my ears off.”

Wade, obviously, starts singing anyway.

“You are! My fiiiire—”

Logan promptly sticks a claw into each ear. He might have pushed a little too far and nicked his brain a bit on both sides, which is just fine because the injury causes him to briefly pass out, a good solution as any at this point.

The last thing he sees is Wade’s comically dismayed face.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

Logan accepts that this universe is just weirdly different after one more incident.

He and Wade made it home too goddamn late last night after finishing a job that took way too fucking long, which meant they both pass out for a solid eight hours and wake up well past noon for their first meal of the day. Althea had already left to do her own business (Logan never asks her what she’s up to, and he’s probably better for it) and took along Mary Puppins, so it’s just him and Wade in the kitchen.

Wade’s already sitting at the table, digging into something from a silvery packet when Logan shuffles by.

“Mornin’, peanut.”

“Hrm.”

“Figured I’d get some real food later, but I’m too damn tired right now, so, y’know—” he lifts up what Logan finally sees is a Pop-Tart, “—Pop-Tarts.”

Logan assesses that he is also too damn tired to actually cook himself a meal, but also too hungry to ignore his appetite. He combs through the cupboards with a quiet hum until he can kick his ass to get some real food. He eventually decides to follow Wade’s lead to eat something now and order more food later, going to the cabinet and bypassing Wade’s stock of sugary children’s cereal for the Special K.

“Not digging into the Raisin Bran, old man?” Wade teases.

“I may be old,” he tosses right back, “but I don’t need to act like it too.” He grabs the milk (a new carton because Althea chewed Wade out last time), a bowl, and a spoon, bumping the utensil drawer closed with his hip. Then, he makes his way to the kitchen table to sit across from Wade.

As always, he pours the milk first.

“Logan,” Wade says slowly, his eyes growing wide with what looks like concern, “why the fuck are you pouring the milk before the cereal?”

“Because that’s how you’re supposed to do it.” Logan shoots him a bewildered look because that’s how everyone does it? He’s pretty sure it’s common knowledge to pour the milk first so you get an even distribution of crunch. He’s adding the cereal in when he asks, “What the fuck are you on about?”

Wade’s horrified gaze flickers back and forth between Logan and his bowl. “That’s so fucking cursed.”

At this point, Logan doesn’t bother dignifying that with a response, digging into his bowl with a dismissive grunt and shake of his head. He very purposefully ignores the implication that people on this planet pour the cereal first.

Now that’s fucking cursed.

Logan may have been engineered to be a wild animal, but he’s not a goddamn savage.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

&1

Logan finds out that Dolly Parton is still alive on this planet.

He considers forgiving the cereal before milk bullshit just for that.

——————————————

(More notes on Ao3.)

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 致命游戏 / The Spirealm.

The Spirealm is a 2024 drama about two young men who fall in love while basically playing a whole bunch of horror-themed escape rooms that can for-real kill you.

This show/book combo has gripped my entire ass. The second I knew I wanted to watch this, almost immediately after it started airing, I muted the tag. I was so right to do this, because this is worth not spoiling yourself about. If you are a Guardian fan in particular, you owe it to yourself to watch this for reasons I think will become clear as you go about watching it.

So! If all you need to know is that I think you need this show in your life, great! You don't even need to scroll down to the end of the post for the links; go to Viki and press play. In case you need more convincing than that, though, I'm going to give you here five reasons to watch it that are as spoilerless as I can make them.

Before we start, though, I'm going to take a moment to note that I had to torrent the video files so I could make screenshots of my own, and if I hadn't, this would have been a much uglier rec post than the others I've done. Not only were there not many promotional materials or official stills released, the show itself barely stayed up two hours on iQiyi, and that's because this drama is a...

1. (Barely) Censored Adaptation Of Same-sex Original Work

Ah, you know that MyDramaList tag well, don't you? Yeah, the original novel, Kaleidoscope of Death (which has a rec post of its own!), is supernatural story about grief and loss built on the love story between the two male leads. Now of course you know already that a mainstream Chinese television adaptation of something like that is going to straighten up everything and turn the horror romance into the sci-fi platonic love of besties.

...But damn, folks, it's still real gay.

Ling Jiushi, the sweet-faced newbie, is a canonical virgin and loving cat dad who plays the mysterious video game once, then finds himself suddenly able to enter the game worlds bodily -- and of course, if you die in the game, you die in real life. He's pretty much doomed, until he meets...

Ruan Lanzhu, the cool-as-a-cucumber veteran of the door worlds, who falls pretty much immediately for the completely oblivious Ling Jiushi, then has to spend the rest of the series consumed with lust while trying to keep him and a couple other dipshits alive.

The show preserves so many overtly gay beats and declarations of affection from the novel, to the point where it's just this side of suggesting that the romance is actually, textually happening just offscreen, every time the camera cuts away. I am forever grateful that working with Zhu Yilong on Reunion seems to have perfected sweet baby Junjie's ability to look at a man with nothing but love in his eyes.

I adore so much the dynamic they have, one where a man who has never told the truth a day in his life encounters a man so sincere and naive that you cannot seduce him with anything but absolute honesty or he's never going to get it.

There are three (3) separate door worlds where they share a bed, and in every one of them, they both sleep with their shoes on. Like the absolute freaks they both are.

2. It's puzzle solvin' time!

So if you've read some of my rec posts before, you know that I am critical of stories that center around cases that are unfollowable, uninteresting, or both (e.g., Mysterious Lotus Casebook and White Cat Legend). I am therefore thrilled to tell you that the door worlds are actually (largely) thoughtful mysteries with reasonable solutions, where you care about what's happening and why.

The way each door world is set up is that you have to solve the puzzle to find a key and unlock the door that will let you leave. One of the challenges is each world's door ghost, who has the key and does not want to give it up. The other challenge is the world-specific set of taboo conditions, where violating them means the door ghost can kill you -- and you are not always told what those taboo conditions are. That means that solving a door involves 1) figuring out what will insta-kill you, 2) not doing that, 3) finding where the hell the exit door is, 4) placating and/or scamming the door ghost long enough to snatch the key from them, and 5) running like hell to the exit door with that key before the door ghost fucks you up about it.

As the show goes on, you get introduced to the concept of door-passing shepherds, which are experienced door-finishers who take through lower-level players, building them up in the process. A lot of these shepherds work for organizations, such as the one Ruan Lanzhu runs. And a lot of them are ready to reach the exit by climbing over everyone else's corpses.

That's part of the fun of the setup: You're not just thrown in alone. You show up with a random number of other players, some with very different levels of experience. At least one of you will make it out; not everyone will. So you can add a step 6) to the list above, which is: surviving all the other players who will gleefully stab you in the back in order to be the first player out the door.

The door worlds are also lovely. They all feel like sets -- and I know that's a weird thing to say about places that are literal sets, but they manage it feel it even on film. In fact, even the show's uses of clunky-ass greenscreen feel appropriate, because of how unreal everything is supposed to be. Everything looks like a dream, which is only amplified by how beautifully everything's shot.

(What's that you say? You say the guy who directed this was the editor on Infernal Affairs? No kidding.)

From a fandom perspective, what's great here is that even though there are technically just twelve doors, there are canonically way more than twelve door worlds out there. That means that whatever worlds you want to create are valid. The best pieces of fanfic I've read are the ones that dream up their own door worlds, complete with taboo conditions, key puzzles, and world-specific perks that lead to gay sex, because come on.

3. A good middle ground of horror

So at this point you are perhaps wondering: How scary is it?

And the answer is, kind of as scary as you're willing to let your mind go with it. Everything has been science-fictioned real hard, including the video game premise that "explains" what's happening with these doors. It relies on dread way more than jumpscares. The blood/gore/gross content is extremely low, again on account of Chinese content censorship. Most icky things are done with offscreen sounds and shadows. I'm pretty squeamish about pain and injury, and I can't recall a time I had to look too long away from the screen.

However, that means the show works some real conceptual horror. That picture up there is of a man forcing three young girls to hold raw eggs unbroken in their mouths. There's nothing about that image that's not technically G-rated, and it's awful in context.

The best bits are when the monsters don't need a lick of CG to become horrors. They cast a contortionist in the Waverly Hills door world, and she absolutely earned her keep.

I have a lot of critiques about how the show handles things, especially in terms of defanging the horror elements (which it does), but one thing I think it absolutely gets right is that it understands that ghost stories are first and foremost tragedies. That's a thing I've always liked about Asian horror in particular, how often you wind up siding with the ghost. Yes, sure, she tried to strangle you with her hair, but have you ever considered she's the real victim here? There's always a bit of a calculus: Can you negotiate with the door ghost, or do you just need to stab them and run? The Spirealm prefers negotiation, and frankly, so do I.

So yeah, it's about as scary as you let it be. If your horror tolerance is low, watch it in a well-lit room and focus on the unreality of it, and you'll be okay. If you're looking for something genuinely spooky, spend some time thinking about the existential dread of the entire situation, and that'll be good for a couple good spine tingles.

4. The Obsidian Family (& Friends!)

In a show where death is always an option, you have to have characters where you actually care if they live or die. Fortunately, all your allies are charming and loveable enough that you are going to be real upset every time they get put in danger!

Obsidian is one of the organizations I mentioned earlier. It's run by Ruan Lanzhu, and it includes a cool and collected doctor, a mom friend who cooks for everybody, a guy who's maybe not having the best mental health day of his life, and two identical twins who could not be more different if they tried. They all live in the same amazing big fancy house, which is where Ling Jiushi too goes to live when he joins the group. They have big family meals, they look after one another, they hang out together -- I mean, if this is the kind of setup you love, then you will love this setup.

There are also plenty of allies who aren't technically part of Obsidian, but who are our friends nonetheless, and who come over to hang out in the Obsidian house from time to time. Some of them are rivals turned friends, some of them are clients turned friends, and some of them were just friends all along! Surely nothing bad will happen to any of them, and they'll all live happily ever after, right? ...Right?

5. Toast and Chestnut!

Of course, the true heroes of the show are Toast the Corgi and Chestnut the Kitty.

Animals are so good.

Truly, I love that one of Ling Jiushi's defining characteristics is that he is a Cat Dad. He is a simple man with simple needs, and one of those needs is to pet his kitty or he'll explode.

caveat: Some thoroughly bad adaptation choices

Yeah, so I keep talking about the novel (and talk even more about the novel in its own rec post), but I assure you, you don't need to have read the novel to feel the degree to which this is an adaptation -- and one that's had its rough, nasty, spooky, gay edges all sanded off in the desperate hope of ever seeing daylight.

Now, sometimes I consider batshit nonsense janky creative decisions to be a selling point for a show (see: Mysterious Lotus Casebook, Legend of Fei, Sand Sea)! In this case, however, I'm going to have to take points off for how incoherently bad they are here. We're talking Psych-Hunter levels of Why Would You Do That-- and the answer, as always, comes down to how you write around what censorship won't allow on television.

The novel says the doors are supernatural. The show says they're a virtual-reality computer game. Now, on the surface, this move sort of makes sense -- you can't have ghosts, but you can have computer games that make digital ghosts, which, sure, okay. But then the problem quickly becomes that the plot of the novel is not remotely built to support a sci-fi premise, so a lot of things have to be grafted awkwardly on. Like, say, a bad guy who stole his corporate logo from Even Worse Twitter. Or a game-designing bestie whose face is never seen. Or [late-stage spoilers about a major character].

The eventual explanation is that this whole setup is a righteous and good game that has somehow been corrupted by evil game-designing capitalists from the West, and that's why it can abduct you in broad daylight and kill you if you fail it. There are good people who want to purify (???) the game, and evil people who want to make money off the game. And I don't mind spoiling you for that part, because it's garbage nonsense. You will be deeply unsatisfied with the show's half-assed attempt at resolving it all. (You may, however, have that disappointment tempered with the amazing concurrent display of heterosexuality that is apologizing to your best bro by coding his perfect man for him. The Spirealm is a land of contrasts.)

Look, I consider myself a mild to moderate socialist, and even I was yawning and making jerk-off motions every time someone started to wax halfheartedly poetic about how evil American capitalism is. Like, yeah, but not because some college student made a vile and wretched video game that eats people! This show is a critique of capitalism like a five-year-old crying because he doesn't get ice cream before bed is a critique of authoritarianism.

And even this, I can't be too mad at it about, you know? I just assume that this was some absolute Hail Mary attempt at getting past censorship -- you know, maybe if we make all the right "grr, USA bad!" noises, they'll let our gay ghost story slip by? And it worked! I mean, just barely, but it did.

So yeah, fair warning that the Spirealm is a show that, if you love it (and I do), you will have to love despite some glaring flaws that haunt it all the way through and hit especially hard during what should otherwise have been an amazing endgame. But hey, we're c-drama fans! We're good at loving janky things, right?

Want to enter the World of Doors?

As I said at the start of the post, Viki's got it -- and only Viki. I'm not sure what circumstances got it up on Viki after iQiyi pulled it, but I'm glad. Watch it quick, before Viki changes its mind!

Hug him! Hug that boy!

[andy-wm]

Andy, I dont think JM is queer, coz in WHO he is singing about a her, not a they.

She/her pronouns leave no scope for ambiguity.

Anon, that's like me saying 'Anonymous' must be your real name because that's who the ask came from.

Makes sense?

No.

No it does not.

If the pronouns were THEY, Jimin would be

a) slammed for being woke

and

b) not clearly telling you that he lives in a society that makes him think his love MUST be a she/her. And he can't find love, he can't find it anywhere.

If he had grown up thinking he could find love with (he/she/they... any pronouns) don't you think he would have found it by now? I mean, look at him, he's so beautiful and kind and smart. How could he not find someone?

Would he be singing songs about how he can't find love?

The way he specifically says HER tells you THAT'S WHERE THE PROBLEM LIES.

Please, Anon (not your real name, yeah?)

Please, for your future self, for you to navigate the information you encounter every day, don't just grab the first thing you see and run with it. Sure, consider your immediate reaction, but also consider what else might be happening.

Because theres always more than one way to look at a situation.

(Thats why we have a jury of 12 and courts of law, and we don't just let people claim revenge for perceived wrongs by vigilante justice. Because there's two sides to a story, and you need different perspecives to see all the angles.)

Critical thinking skills are important because often messages are hidden.

Sometimes it's because the author wants you to misunderstand at first, because their real meaning will have more impact when you discover it later.

Sometimes there are two different messages directed at two different types of audience (like kids movies with adult jokes hidden in them)

Sometimes it's because they actually cannot say what they really want to say because they aren't allowed to or because it'snot safe or because they simply don't want to be upfront.

In the case of this song, it's all three of those reasons.

Context clues tell us that this album is very queer themed. There are rainbows and smeraldo flowers everywhere.

Smeraldo flowers LITERALLY mean a hidden truth/ truth untold/ I couldn’t tell the truth.

The original posts about Smeraldo flowers are translated here:

You'll find this here: https://cafearmy.wordpress.com/category/flower-smeraldo-blog-post-translations/page/2

There are also clues in the WHO music video - the extended metaphor of the weather, and the rainbows and colour flares. These tell us THERE'S MORE GOING ON HERE.

Read the lyrics and also watch the mv and think about what you are hearing and seeing.

Follow the story and think about WHY everything is happening the way it happens.

The director didn't just randomly yell "ok dance! Now run a bit, now look at the camera, now sing!"

There's a plan. The plan is based on a story they're telling. The story has an ending that THEY ALREADY KNOW, but that we don't.

Until we've seen the whole thing and thought about it, and then gone back to see what we missed the first time around, we dont know.

Like Spring Day isn’t REALLY about the seasons, and Bapsae isnt about birds, and The Truth Untold isn't about growing flowers.

Go back and watch the MV with the audio muted and think about the story thr MV tells without the music.

Read the lyrics as though you are reading a poem.

Genuinely, i care about this (i am a school librarian Anon, i wouldn’t be one if i didn't care about how people interact with information) so listen and think about it.

Then come back and tell me if you still think he's not queer because the pronouns in this song are she.

Borahae 💜

[respectthepetty]

My Love (Color) Mix-Up

Disaster bisexual Aoki and stoic (aro?) Ida of My Love Mix-Up/Kieta Hatsukoi are color-coded boys in love, but unlike most series where the colors are quickly given, seeing the colors emerge throughout the series was a key part of the narrative.

So we must start with the plot:

Aoki likes Hashimoto who is a Green Gal (lively and hopeful).

When Aoki thinks about her or speaks to her, he is engulfed in his color, like in this moment, he is looking at her.

But normally, this Orange Oddity's color is muted (optimistic and communicative).

Because he thinks Hashimoto likes Ida who is a Blue Boy (stable and loyal).

Yet an eraser causes Ida to believe Aoki likes him.

Instead of freaking out, Ida says "bet" and so begins the delicious color extravaganza!

As mentioned, Aoki's color is muted.

But the second Ida starts paying him some attention, Aoki's color starts evolving.

First, he morphs from tan to yellow

After Ida works with Aoki in the play and immerses him in blue

But Aoki is worried about Hashimoto's feelings since he believes she likes Ida. He discusses this with her while both are highlighted by their color with hints of the other person lingering in the shots.

Yet Hashimoto informs Aoki that she actually likes Aida, Ida's Red Rascal friend (more like a Red Flag if you ask me, but he is spontaneous and energetic).

The entire class has to go on a trip, and Aoki feels more confident in his color after Ida confesses to wanting to try being with Aoki.

Once they get back home, Aoki freaks out

But he does a great job of covering it up.

Not really. Not at all. The boy is losing it! His love for Ida is evolving quickly and his emotions are written all over him in his brightening color. Some issues emerge with Hashimoto and Aida (telling you that he is a giant Red Flag!), so Aoki mutes his color a bit to not rub salt in his friend's wound, yet his tutor even notices Aoki in love, but is bothered that Aoki likes a boy. Aoki cannot hide his feelings, so his Blue Boy becomes a vegan for a day to squash that beef.

Aoki's color comes back and Hashimoto reminds him that in order to date Ida, who is doing everything right, he has to like actually go on dates with Ida.

And just like before, Ida says "bet" and asks Aoki out on a date.

The date is great despite Aoki picking a movie where the dog dies in the end and both boys are solid in their colors.

Well, until Aoki freaks out again believing that Ida doesn't feel as deeply as he does (which it would be kind of hard to tell since Ida's sweater turns from the softest blue into white). However, with Hashimoto's encouragement, Aoki decides to properly confess to Ida about just how deep his feelings are (as if it isn't obvious).

But Ida tells Aoki that Ida already admitted to his teammates that they were dating after they questioned seeing the two out together on their date. Aoki, worried that Ida will be bullied for dating him, breaks up with Ida and falls deep into the blue.

Ida's teammates explain to Ida how Aoki came to them claiming that they were never dating and begging for the team to be kind to Ida. Ida realizing what Aoki was doing runs after him (Japan and that damn running!), and we get one of the most fucking satisfying color exchanges from any show ever.

DO YOU SEE THAT?! DO YOU SEE IT?! Aoki, void of color, walking aimlessly, immediately is surrounded by Ida's color the second Ida hugs him, then the camera pans out to show how BOTH of their colors are present.

*I'M SCREAMING!*

Ida talks to Aoki in Aoki's color letting Aoki know that he feels just as deeply for him as Aoki feels for him.

When Aoki finally turns around, both boys are equal in their colors and feelings.

Aoki believes Ida, and they sit down to watch the lights, covered in their love and colors.

And the show ends where it began, with an eraser.

This colors post was brought to you by this random piece of text

[booksandabeer]

Ramblings on Fandom: Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers, Delusional Shippers, and Alleged Misogyny

So with the release of Season 2 of What If…? emotions are once again running high, the outrage is outraging, and people are up in arms about the whole Captain Carter situation. While I do think that some reactions are a little overblown, even needlessly aggressive in tone to the unfortunate detriment of their otherwise convincing arguments, I share the confusion and frustration about the sudden centering of a long-dead & never excessively popular character, the sidelining of the Steve-Bucky friendship, and the as-inexplicable-as-it-is-total exclusion of Sam Wilson as Captain America. However, I’m not here to talk about the show because (1) I haven’t watched this season and have no plans to (why waste time torturing myself with something I know I’ll hate?) and (2) other people have already written dozens of metas about it, so what could I possibly add at this point.

What I do want need to talk about (lest I explode) is something that has irritated me for a long time and that is now happening again: Every time someone even mildly criticizes Peggy Carter, expresses doubts about her suitability as a heroine, or even just questions her disproportionate importance to the franchise post-EG, inevitably a certain section of fans will come out of the woodwork to immediately throw around accusations of misogyny and yell about how we’re all just a bunch of delusional Stuckies who are mad that she got "in the way" of our ship. Sigh.

This is gonna be a long one, so I’ll put it under a cut. Rant incoming. You've been warned. If you don't want to read, simply keep scrolling.

First of all, let me state very clearly that I’m not debating the existence of misogyny and sexism in fandom spaces—or in the media from which these fandoms originate. At all. It exists, it’s a thing, I’m not denying that. Which is exactly why it frustrates me endlessly to see these accusations thrown around as a gotcha! argument to shut down any and all critical debate around a female character. All it does in the end is escalate rhetoric and radicalize attitudes.  

In the case of Peggy Carter, specifically her treatment by Stucky shippers, I’ve always found 'misogyny as a motive' to be a largely unsubstantiated accusation.¹ Now, I neither presume nor do I want to speak for the entirety of Stuckynation, so I will not claim that there aren't corners of the fandom where people discuss her in ways that I find off-putting and deeply unserious, but I will say this: If you genuinely believe that disliking one (1) fictional female character equals “hating all women” and wanting to suppress and marginalize their presence in fiction and real life alike—then I think we need to take that word away from you until you’ve learned its true meaning.

You might also want to ask yourself how exactly reducing a female character to a mute trophy wife or a heroine who has to act out her love interest’s recycled storylines helps your feminist fight.

As for the “getting in the way of your ship” part of the argument. Very simply put: No character can get in the way of something if there never ever was “a way” to that something to begin with. “Being mad” implies that there was a reasonable expectation that wasn’t met, a substantive hope that was crushed. Now, I’ve said this before and I’ll gladly say it again a million more times: No Stucky shipper in their right mind ever truly thought that there was even the slightest chance that Marvel Studios owned by the Walt Disney Company would allow Steve “Captain America” Rogers and Bucky “Winter Soldier” Barnes to be canonized as an explicitly romantic pairing in their billion dollar franchise. Be serious. That was never in the cards. I wish we all lived in a world where it was, but we don’t, and it wasn’t. The best we could ever hope for was for Steve and Bucky to get a good, satisfying, in-character ending. And if, in Steve’s case, that would’ve included hints (or more) about a possible rekindling of his, uh, aborted romance with Sharon—then so be it. But we never got any of that. The characters never got any of that. Instead they sent Steve into 1950s suburban hell, literally trapped him behind a white picket fence, and condemned him to a life of passivity and lies, all so he could be married to a woman he barely knew a long time ago in a completely different world; who built and ran a top-to-bottom Hydra-infested organization, but apparently never noticed that there was anything wrong with her life's work. For decades. Great. As for Bucky—well, we’ve all seen the devastatingly grim-faced, utterly lonely, and deeply sad version of him that was presented to us in TFATWS. Happy endings all around, I guess.

So. Am I mad that Steve didn’t get to ride into the rainbow-colored sunset with Bucky at the end of EG? No. Because that was never going to happen anyway. Would I have been mad had he ended up with Sharon or another female character in the 21st century? Also no. Granted, I wouldn’t have been ecstatic about it, but mad? No. But am I mad that Steve ended up with this specific female character under these specific circumstances as presented in canon? Fuck yeah, I am.

The thing is: I personally believe Steve and Peggy to be fundamentally incompatible when it comes to the way they view the world and their respective places in it; their morals and values; their capacity for compassion and empathy; their ability and willingness to compartmentalize, compromise, and collaborate with people and institutions whose ethics and/or politics do not align with their own. I have a real hard time believing that a relationship between these two (or worse, a hasty marriage) could be either happy or long-lasting.

I don’t believe Peggy to be inherently evil, I don’t hate her, I simply think she operates within a different moral framework than Steve (and even genuinely believes it to be a righteous one).² Your mileage may vary, but I personally happen to find that framework reprehensible, even indecent, and ultimately dangerous. After all, over the course of the 20th century, we have seen exactly where that kind of “the ends justify the means” brand of pragmatism leads—over and over again. Not to mention that the people who use this line of argument to defend characters like Peggy (or real-life politicians for that matter) never seem to want to look too closely at who gets to define what "the ends" are in the first place and who decides when they've finally been met.

(Never. The answer is never.)

And to be clear, there is absolutely nothing wrong with depicting, and even centering a narrative around a morally (dark)gray character—oftentimes it’s actually the more interesting option—but you cannot at the same time claim that they are purely good and should be only admired as such when their actions literally tell an entirely different story.

So, no. I will not accept Peggy Carter as the shining aspirational heroine that the MCU so badly wants to sell her to me as—while simultaneously continuing to reveal things that paint an increasingly darker picture of her character. And I will certainly not celebrate seeing one of my favorite characters of all time—whose defining trait was that he couldn't ignore "a situation pointed south"; who used to fight for the little guy and against the establishment; who once said about the very organization that Peggy Carter helped build that it was so corrupt, it all needed to go—rendered morally inert for some hollow happy ending that may as well be a conservative’s wet dream full of false nostalgia for an America that never really existed. I cannot find it in me to be anything less but mad about that.

But that does not make me a misogynist. It does not make me a delusional shipper. It makes me someone who looks at what the MCU has been telling me about Peggy Carter for years now—over and over again—and takes it at its own word.

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¹ If you’ve actually read a a fair number of Stucky(!) fanfics you will have noticed that the reverence afforded to and "page time" devoted to her character and her relationship with Steve is somewhat disproportionate to anything that's backed up by canon—well, up until EG, where she was suddenly reanimated as The Great Love of Steve’s Life—and in my experience, it's highly unusual for any fandom to put so much (mostly) positive attention on another character, let alone a potential love interest that is not part of the endgame ship.

² I also want to emphasize that if you love Peggy and she's your fave: good for you! I genuinely have no beef with you. People can agree to disagree. All I ask for is that we maybe stop willfully ignoring the less savory aspects of her character. You don't need to pretend she's perfect to justify your affection for her. I LOVE Steve, and yet I have no problem conceding that he is FAR from perfect.

[zeddylux]

I know I'm a little late to the party, meant to make this post yesterday but here we are. It's Arcane season at last baby!!! We've waited years for this and I know we're all excited but a few things to keep in mind for my page specifically.

1. I profoundly apologize to anyone who follows me for any other content it will simply be Arcane from now until probably into next year. I fully understand if you mute or unfollow me because of it.

2. We all know Netflix is being a massive cunt with password sharing so not everyone has access to the show. PLEASE TAG YOUR SPOILERS.

3. Please everyone be civil when discussing the very heavy themes involved in this show. If you cannot behave yourself in my comments and reblogs you will get blocked. End of discussion.

4. Just a few opinions I have specifically...I don't much care for Silco. I think his relationship with Jinx is very manipulative and creepy so keep that in mind if you choose to follow me. If you really like their relationship I'm probably going to make you mad. In addition Vi hate will not be tolerated. I know the shallow stupid opinions alot of you have about her character. Believe me I'm going to be fairly critical with how the series handles her transition (and hopefully later opposition) to being an enforcer as well as the revolutionary writing in general. But get your season 1 takes out of my face. Vi did not create Jinx. Stop it. Mel, Ambessa, Sevika, or Ekko hate will also NOT be tolerated. If you bring your racism and antiblackness to my discussions you will be blocked and reported. You have been warned.

5. As I mentioned above I will be fairly critical of how this season handles its political writing. I love Caitvi I do. They actually mean quite alot to me but I'll likely be the hardest on Cait this season. Speaking as an American there are alot of bad things going on here that she specifically represents and I'm hopeful and curious as to how the writing team chooses to handle her.

Other than that welcome to the discussion! I'll be watching the new season as soon as I'm able and I'm sure will be putting my rambling on here as I think of them. I've watched season one an ungodly amount of times I'm sure this season will be no different. I hope Netflix does these characters justice and I hope anyone who is new to this amazing series feels welcome and safe on my page to discuss. Let's fucking go!!!

Also this blog still stands with Palestine, Sudan, and Congo as well as all marginalized groups affected by fascism and imperialism around the world. Just gonna pin these rules for now!

Allright. Now that everything's over...I have some new rules. The above rules still stand but...tbh I really really hated that season. There were some things I enjoyed but for the most part I did NOT care for it. You're welcome to scroll through my blog to see my thoughts and various discussions between me and my mutuals. (Usually tagged Arcane critical or anti Caitvi). They did everyone so dirty and I'm EXTREMELY dissappinted. Especially with Caitvi. Please keep all these rules in mind before interacting with my posts. Also please let me know if there is any bigotry of any kind in my comments, posts, or forums. I will take care of it immediately. Thank you!

One last addition, I had to briefly log back on to address a small matter..I was looking through wattpad to see if they had slightly better Arcane fanfics than A03...and came across a drabble that was almost identical to my Vigert drabble...rebranded Caitvi. I don't know if this was some kind of revenge scheme by a Caitlyn Stan or what but the coward immediately deleted their fic once I sent them a message. I think this goes without saying...but do not steal my fanfics. Do not steal my ideas do not steal my drabbles. I will delete them if I see this happening again. The fuck?? 😤

Update #2- Said person is now stalking my tumblr and sending me nasty messages 😑 Unfortunately I will have to turn asks off again since no one can behave. I swear every fandom is just full of immature children but oh well 🤷‍♀️

Even though I had to turn my asks off again please consider donating to any of the gofundmes I have shared below. Palestine and many people around the world still very much need our help and any amount you can donate in my stead would be greatly appreciated! Love you all 🫶

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

ICYMI: There are so many Japanese qls airing weekly, so I’m going to start posting this little round up at the end of each week. Most of these shows are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching!

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna 2

Another great batch of episodes this week, as Kasuga and Nomoto settled into dating life, all the gals got together for various food related events, and Nagumo began seeking treatment for her eating disorder. This show is just always so compassionate with its characters, and manages to find interesting conflicts without going for high drama. I am very much enjoying seeing Kasuga and Nomoto figure out how their relationship should look now that they're dating and also how to communicate and respect each other as they make decisions. Kasuga's tendency to let Nomoto steamroll her feels harmless when it's about picking fruit or vegetables, but it won't be when it comes to making decisions about where they live and how to set up their home, so it's great they're addressing it early. It's also awesome to see them expand their circle of friends and deepen their bonds with Yako and Nagumo--I was high key jealous of the curry and s'mores parties. And Nagumo just has my whole heart. When she expressed profound relief at learning there is a name for her illness and ways to treat it, my mind immediately jumped to Rachel Bloom. Looking forward to her healing. I can't believe there is only one more batch of episodes coming, love and gratitude to @furritsubs!

Chaser Game W

I’ll keep this brief. This show was a mess, and not even in a fun way because unfortunately it was also extremely misogynistic. @twig-tea covered the major issues well in her post. Wild that this show aired simultaneously with TsukuTabe, what a dichotomy.

My Strawberry Film

This one is really not grabbing me. It feels kind of slow and muted and uncertain about what it's doing. I am not finding the mystery or the love rhombus compelling, and this week's focus on Hikaru's infatuation with Minami had me yawning and picking up my phone a lot. But it's early, I am hopeful it will pick up some steam.

Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka

This was a cute episode about Sakae and Soga getting past their initial awkwardness, learning how to communicate with each other, and moving into a more intimate phase of their relationship, and I think I would have loved it if we'd gotten it two weeks ago. This should have been the episode that followed their initial confessions, but instead the show did a two week diversion into love triangle nonsense, and unfortunately, I think it really threw off the pacing and the connection to these characters for me. It just feels too late in the show for this relationship to still feel so new. We haven't had time to settle in with them as a couple, or for them to develop a strong foundation to make us root for them to overcome the coming obstacles in the final arc. Still, this episode had some delightful scenes--Soga finally paying a visit to the sauna was my personal fav, and I also enjoyed the metaphor of Sakae literally catching Soga's love (and knowing @bengiyo would lose it over another important SPORTS moment in bl). This is a show I really want to love, but something just isn't connecting.

Perfect Propose

I love this final episode and I love this show. Hiro quit his job, Kai resolved things with the shop owner and his son, and they finally got on the same page about their relationship and made out about it. 10/10 no notes for this finale. It was lovely to see Hiro finish his project and make a decision to quit the daily grind--I loved, too, that he is still in touch with his former colleagues--and we saw the change in him so quickly. He looked happier, lighter, brighter. His skin was cleared and his crops were watered! And Kai got to have his moment of catharsis too, sharing his fear that he is a burden on others and having Hiro affirm for him that he wants him in his life and he's a help, not a burden. And I loved that we got all that plus a great kiss, a bed scene (with a very cute leg cramp diversion) and a small peek at their new domestic life together. This show makes me happy and it will definitely be one I return to for rewatches.

Ossan's Love Returns

I'm of two minds on this finale. On the one hand, I really loved it as a single episode of the show, was happy with where all the resolutions landed, and was left with a very warm feeling toward the show overall. The cherry blossom scene especially really got me right in the feels; I've loved the progression of Maki and Haruta's relationship this season and I love the way they talk to each other. They have earned themselves a spot on my list of favorite drama couples who I actually believe are going to stay together. I also loved everything about the big chaotic group scene and all these characters coming together to pour love on Haruta; it felt earned after a season of him knocking himself out for all his loved ones. The end joke with Chief moving in next door, and getting a final Maki/Kurosawa battle, was *chef's kiss*. And Takegawa's perfect life partner being a cat? 10/10 no notes. I will be clutching my aroace Takegawa read tightly to my bosom.

On the other hand, the episode reinforced for me that the way we got to a lot of these resolutions didn't feel quite right. In particular, I don't think the way Kurosawa's health scare played out across the back half of the season worked, and I'm not too pleased about spending three episodes in a downbeat, tragic mode for the sake of a simple pun joke. I think the whole plot would have landed a lot better for me if the audience was let in on Kurosawa's mistake at the start and the tone of his overwrought goodbyes was farcical all the way through. Not only would that have maintained the comedic tone of the show, but we could have used that story time to better seed some of the themes of this episode with Haruta's crisis of confidence and yearning for family. I'm pretty much agnostic on Kiku and Izumi; they never sold me on that pairing but I wasn't mad about their ending.

Overall, I am very glad I jumped into this show and enjoyed the watch experience a lot, despite my quibbles with some of the overarching writing choices. The cast is amazing and all the characters make me smile. If they make another season, I'll be watching!

Bonus: Josi teki Saikatsu

I finally watched this drama this week--I held out for awhile hoping to find it in better quality, but no dice, it's 480p in the grey--and despite the potato lens I loved it so much. This is the story of Miki, a transfemme lesbian, just trying to live her life in the way she wants, and all the barriers she comes up against in that pursuit. Our story begins when her childhood friend, Goto, comes looking for his old pal in a moment of desperation and is stunned to see how she's changed. The show is only four short episodes, but they manage to paint a full picture of Miki's life at home, at work, with friends and lovers, and with her estranged family, and show us how she became who she is. Miki is whip smart and perceptive and generous, but also wary of trusting anyone after she's been let down by so many loved ones. I love her so much, and you will too. This story was written by a trans woman and it shows! Brave the 480p and check it out.

[barenecessiteas]

Final Random Sinclair Headcanons Because I Can't Get Them Out Of My Head

Hello my darlings. We've reached the final part of my random headcanons. There's only one person left - you know him, you love him, it's adorable waxy boi Vincent! Again, these are all just random thoughts I had, I don't really write on here much, but these just kept coming to me so I figured I may as well share em. Hope you enjoy!

Vincent Sinclair

If you didn't happen to see this on my last post, I believe Vincent is the younger twin and Bo is the older one. Only apart by seconds for obvious reason, but Bo was technically born first

Even after the separation surgery, baby Vincent had a hard time sleeping unless Bo was with him. Having his literal other half suddenly not be attached anymore took a lot of adjustment for him

He also exclusively sleeps on his right side, or at least with the right side of his face against the pillow. Kinda like a subconscious need to feel something against the skin there since Bo wasn't attached to him anymore

Vincent is actually able to talk, he's just selectively mute. This comes from the abuse he witnessed on Bo by their parents

I kinda touched on this last time, but restraining Bo to the chair every time he "misbehaved" or threw a tantrum really just taught the kids that it wasn't acceptable to express their emotions. So even tho Vincent never actually experienced the same punishment, it scared him to watch that happen to his brother

That's why, in the introduction to the film, you see little Vincent seemingly just ignore Bo while he's strapped into the chair, just quietly eating his cereal and swinging his feet

This is NOT because he didn't care about his brother. He was just scared of getting the same treatment that Bo did. He had the idea that if he behaved in front of his parents, he'd be able to sneak off to comfort Bo later

We all see in the film how he's immediately concerned for Bo when he notices the arrow in his chest. He hates seeing either of his brothers hurt, and he just started feeling more comfortable openly expressing that after their parents were gone

So yes, he can talk, but usually it's not unless he absolutely has to. His voice is often harsh and raspy because of this, but it's still there

I don't see Vincent as the meek, timid, and abused twin like a lot of people do. Bo isn't just his brother, he's Vincent's TWIN brother. He's literally been dealing with Bo since they were in the womb

Vincent is just calmer by nature and it's much harder to actually get him angry. He's learned that Bo says a bunch of shit he doesn't mean when he's angry and it's usually best to just let him cool off on his own. Vincent doesn't take it personally

This doesn't mean they don't fight. It happened more when they were kids, but as fully grown adult men Vincent rarely ever gets so pissed off he actually fights with Bo

I think most people agree on this next part but I'm gonna say it anyway - Vincent started growing his hair out so that he'd have something to hide his face with if he ever needed to take off the mask

Even with that in mind, he's not afraid to throw hands if Bo really manages to piss him off 💀

Like they have gotten into legit brawls and fist fights as children if they got on each other's nerves

He does genuinely like the look of it long now, but it started mostly as a security blanket type thing

Speaking of his hair, his is naturally darker than Bo's, he doesn't dye it or anything. We see in pictures that they were blonde as young kids and their hair got darker as they grew older. Bo's hair just stopped darkening at the dark brown we see him with. Vincent's hair just kept on getting darker

He actually does take pretty good care of his hair. He's not super concerned about it, but he doesn't want it to be a rat's nest either. He makes sure to keep it brushed, washes it regularly, and he's generally good at keeping wax out of it

Vincent wasn't really bullied as much for his mask as most people think he was. The Sinclairs were basically local celebrities, so everyone in town knew who they were. Their birth and separation surgery were announced in the paper too, so everyone kinda knew it was from that

What really bothered him was the pity from other people. Kids could be assholes about it every now and then, sure, but hearing adults whisper about it was what he'd really hate

He got into wax kinda by accident. It was a day while Trudy was working on a new mask for him, he was sitting around watching her. She gave him some extra wax she had lying around to play with

Saying stuff like "poor boy" or "shame he didn't turn out as good looking as his brother" when they thought he wasn't listening. That's what really got to him

Vincent also isn't really shy, he's just introverted. He found that hearing people talk about him and feeling sorry for him behind his back exhausted him, so he really just prefers the company of his family

Trudy and Victor often told the boys old mythology stories at bedtime, so Vincent decided he wanted to make what he thought the monsters and creatures in the stories looked like

Since it was his first time using wax, it was far from perfect, but he'd spent so long watching his mom work on her art that he had an idea of some of the technique

He actually used a spoon to shape the wax for most of it lol

Even for such a young kid, he definitely showed promise. That's when Trudy really started to take him under her wing. She was delighted to be able to bond with one of her boys like that

Vincent always felt a little guilty for having a closer relationship with Trudy because of how she and Victor would treat Bo (and how they'd pay much less attention to Lester). He still loved his parents, but it definitely added a huge guilt complex

That's why he's so concerned about always being there for Bo and Lester to help take care of them. He just tends to let Bo take the initiative in taking care of him and Lester because he knows it makes Bo feel better

Just like Bo, he was taught to play the piano growing up. He's pretty good at it, but he never had the same interest in it that Bo did. He enjoyed listening to music more than playing it

Vincent has a very broad taste in music, he listens to a lot of different genres. Classical music is pretty much exclusively for when he's sculpting or making any form of art in general

It's a habit he picked up from his mother. He finds it less distracting so it helps him concentrate more

Like Bo, he was also very good at sports growing up. Really all of the boys were (Bo was just the most involved in it so he got better than his brothers eventually). He's actually surprisingly active

He tries to take frequent breaks when working with wax, even if it's just for a tiny bit. If he doesn't, his muscles get very sore, making it hard for him to work later on

However, when I say he tries I really mean that he only remembers to take breaks with smaller projects. Bo and Lester (or even Jonesy) usually have to remind him to step away for a bit

Speaking of Jonesy, she is in fact Vincent's dog. Yeah, she's the family dog too, but Vincent is the one who found her and raised her

He was going for a walk in the woods and found Jonesy abandoned as a puppy. Even though she was young she was still much smaller than she should have been. Her mother and litter mates were nowhere to be found

So Vincent gently picks her up and carries her home in the pocket of his hoodie. He stays up all night feeding her and watching over her to make sure she recovers physically

Bo was surprisingly chill with Vincent keeping the puppy. As long as Vincent was responsible for taking care of her, he didn't mind having a dog around

Lester lost his shit when he found out Vincent took in a puppy (in a good way, of course)

Vincent basically treats her like his baby (we stan a girl dad) and takes VERY good care of her. She has a great diet, has constant play sessions, and is overall very well cared for

It bothers him when Lester sneaks her some roadkill meat because he's always scared about Jonesy potentially getting sick

Jonesy also sleeps in Vincent's bed with him and has seen his face more than his actual brothers have. She loves to give him kisses on the scarred side of his face and it makes him melt

When Bo first came up with the idea of killing people to use as a base for Vincent's wax sculptures, he was hesitant. Sure, he knew killing people was wrong, but he was more worried about the danger it could place his brothers in

But once he actually used the first victim as a live "model" of sorts, he was convinced that this was the perfect way to finish his mother's dream. It didn't take him a lot of convincing

His collection of knives are all gifts from Bo and Lester. They'd often either buy them or find them on victims before cleaning them up to give them to vincent

The dual dragon blades are his favorites because it was a combined present from Bo and Lester for Christmas

He has much more morbid curiosity in killing because of his father's work. He found anatomy very interesting (and not to mention useful when it came to sculpting people), so he often takes pictures or videos to use as references when painting or sketching

Alright, we've now reached the end of my insanity. I hope you all enjoyed my silly little writing spree. I may or may not write more Headcanons in the future, idk. We'll see if inspiration ends up striking me lol. But for now, we've finished the Sinclairs. Thanks for reading, my lovelies, and I hope you all have a wonderful day 😘💕

[penvisions]

of beskar and kyber {chapter 15}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: Moff Gideon's troops close in on your position as you try to make an escape.

Word Count: 12.5k (!!)

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, fighting, fight scenes, conflict, emotional trauma, emotional manipulation, physical manipulation, coercion, manipulation, reader goes momentarily mute, emotional outbursts, argumentative language, din raises his voice, din yells at reader two times, loss of temper for both reader and din, moff gideon gets his own warning, description of injuries, blood, descriptions of nausea, concussions, minor character death, major character injury, angst, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a name that is sparingly used for plot points, if i forgot anything please let me know and i'll add it!

A/N: so, this happened nearly immediately after i posted the last one. had the general scenes of this chapter outlined for ages, but it took a darker turn than even i anticipated. this chapter is dedicated to @sawymredfox for allowing me to bounce ideas off of them! i don't know what to say other than, i'm sorry and please feel free to (kindly) yell at me if you need to

ao3 || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“We need to move.”

“Who put you in charge?”

“I’m sorry, do you speak Mando’a? Do you know the customs and cultural presets for interacting with them on their own terms, in their own setting?” One last tear trailed down your cheek and you roughly wiped it away. Trying your best to keep the heated gaze you shared with the older man.

Neither person said anything as you walked past them to take the lead, ad’ika cooing after you with one of his small claws. He began to wriggle in Cara’s grip, unhappy with the woman holding him, a cry breaking the silence of the darkened tunnel. She tried her best to keep him secure against her chest, but he pushed at her, little fists thumping hard. He kept his gazed trained on you, another bellowing cry gaining volume the further you walked away.

“I think he wants you, cyar’ika.” Cara called out, unsure of what else to do. She followed after you, steps echoing all around. You turned with a blank face that quickly softened as you looked down at the child. Heart thudding as you reached out for him, he practically threw himself at you, jumping from Cara’s hold and toward you. You caught him with a small huff, trying to keep a solid hold on him as he buried his face into your neck and whimpered.

“I’ve got you, ad’ika.” You murmured, away of Karga watching you, something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher. With quiet words, you secured him in the bag he had been handed to Kuiil in during your separation and adjusted it over your shoulder. You fixed it to rest along your left hip, his weight barely anything as he kept one hand wrapped around the hem of your tank top for comfort.

The tunnels were deserted, no sign of recent occupation or life, traveling further into them. You couldn’t have been making progress, the winding underground world expansive and deliberately set up to deter people from finding the pockets of life hidden within. With a frustrated sigh, you shined your vambrace’s flashlight on the walls around you. Trying to catch a glimpse of anything scribed along them, using the red of it to pick up on anything gilded in hidden ink.

You wished for the helmet Akiz had left to you, for the cover of it and the different visor settings to aid you in your search. But you had lost it, like you had everything else. It was hopefully still secured in the chest buried in the remnants of your hideaway deep in the desert of Tatooine.

Maybe…maybe it was time to return there, with ad’ika, if you ever managed to get off world. Place the pendant Din had gifted you along side it. Remnants of a life you had tried to start over twice now and unable to maintain. The sacrifice of two Mandalorians weighing you down and urging you to hide away once again. The threat after you, after you both too strong to fight and overcome.

An explosion overhead had you reaching for the child, hand firm on his small back as he fussed.

All three of you turned toward the direction you had just come from, wary of the tunnels beginning to cave in and trap you. Your breath hitched at the sound of twin steps, the unsteady light dancing o the wall as figures approached and rounded the corner you had just turned.

But it wasn’t soldiers or Mandalorians intent on protecting their space, nor civilians running from the fighting and occupation of the city overhead.

It was IG-11, leading and supporting a weak Din.

Your body wouldn’t move, mind going blank as Din’s amor glinted in the low light of the tunnels.

Cara rushed forward, a smile breaking out on her face. Karga right behind her as she reached out a tentative hand to his cuirass. His helmet bobbed, unsteady on his feet and balance shot as he swayed from the light pressure. He didn’t say anything as she curled an arm around his back and took the brunt of his weight. Light emanating from the side of his helmet swinging around as he jostled from the movements.

“Want to lend a hand here?” She looked toward you, frozen in your spot.

When you didn’t say anything, eyes avoiding looking directly at the armored figure and fingers twitching with the urge to reach out an ensure he was real, he was alive, he was right in front of you; Karga took point.

“Do you know which way to go?”

“No. I don’t know these tunnels.” His voice was still raspy, a scratchy quality that prickled the skin of your back as it fell on your ears. Secure in his pouch, ad’ika cooed in response, ears wiggling as he watching his guardian with wide eyes. When the helmet raised and focused on your completely, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to care that his light was shining directly on you. “I’ve only entered from the bazaar. Mesh’la, have you found any clues?”

You turned your back on him and began to walk, not trusting your voice. A grunt of pain displayed through the helmet, Cara murmuring quiet words to ensure he was okay enough to move. When he agreed, she adjusted his arm over her shoulder and began to follow after you.

“She’s been quiet since we left you behind.”

“Well, if we get the smell of sulfur and we follow it, it’ll lead us up to the plains where the river flows.

“The Imps will catch us before we make it to the ship. We need the Mandalorians to escort us to safety.

“Ugh, this place is a maze.

“Stop.” He sounded more clear than he had as of yet. Slowly pulling away from Cara, flanked by them both as they prepared to catch him should he fall. “I can stand.”

“The bacta infusion is working.” IG-11 assured and it eased your heart a bit, to know that the man had taken help from the droid, even if he hadn’t taken it from you. But bacta could only do so much, mentally making a note to pick up more the first chance you had. If not in the controlled city, then on the next world as soon as the ship was docked and you ensured he would be okay while in your absence.

“I’ll try to find tracks. Mesh’la have you found any up there?” Din tried to call out, rasp to his voice stirring concern in you, it swirled alongside the dark tendrils keeping their hold on you. Amalgamating into an uncomfortable weight carried inside of you as you continued to press on through the tunnels.

When you didn’t answer, only stepped out from the middle of the space, did he see what you had been faintly following without even knowing it. He slowly walked forward, still limping slightly, though he did seem a bit steadier on his feet now.

“We’re close.” He pointed towards your feet, his visor allowing him to see the highlighted trail of footprints from someone within the last few hours. You leaned away from his touch to brush your arm as he stood beside you, helmet watching your downcast face. He whispered your name, voice cracking on the feel of it through his sore throat. He reached out for you again, gloved hand barely brushing the side of your cheek before you were pulling away and moving behind the rest of the group.

He could only watch in concern when you removed the bag ad’ika was settled in from your shoulders and handed it to a willing IG-11 to hold. Words stuck in his own throat as he wanted desperately for a moment alone with you to talk things out and comfort you. But time was a luxury none of you had, if the sporadic explosions from up above were any more of an indication of the predicament. 

With a sigh that crackled through the modulator, he began to move once again. A few winding tunnels and turns revealed pockets of life as furniture and barrels began to fill the underground space in pockets.

He came to a slow halt, flashlight making a pile of Mandalorian armor visible right in front of him. It took up most of the current tunnel, the visors of the helmets glinting in the direct light as he stared at them. You held back a gasp at the sight of them, keeping some of your focus on the empty, dark space behind you lest you had followers.

The click of Din turning off his light was loud in the tense silence, the air charged with the emotions he was feeling at such a hopeless and painful sight. He approached the pile slowly, steps stilted as the bacta worked to get him somewhat healed. He kneeled down in front of it, shoulders slumped, and head bowed.

Ad’ika cried out, picking up on the armored man’s emotions. Fussing in the hold IG-11 had on him though he didn’t try to detach.

A helmet was between his hands, lifted up for him to gauge it better. When he was still for longer than a few heartbeats, Cara inched forward and leaned down toward him.

“We should go.”

“You go. Take the ship. I can’t leave it this way.” Somber voice spoken through the modulator, it had you stepping forward but you thought better of it. Not sure if he would welcome your presence beside him at the moment, the memory of approaching a broad figure wearing blue armor replaying in your mind. It was the catalyst for the scene in front of you, Din hunched on the ground, the helmet of one of his fallen gripped in his hands. More evidence of fallen warriors piled in front of him. And it felt like an omen, that it wouldn’t be the last loss for the man to experience. It couldn’t be, not as long as you were with him. As long as ad’ika was with him. Targets marked on your backs, welcoming more conflict, more battles, more gunfire, more loss.

“Did you know about this? Is this the work of your bounty hunters?” Anger flared in his voice, words biting as he turned toward Karga. His legs were stable as he harnessed his anger and closed in on the surprised man. He didn’t move against the approaching man, completely taken off guard by the pile of armor just as everyone else. You felt that same pull of darkness thrum, the memory of Akiz passing too sharp in your mind, striking through you and leaving a chasm for the pull to fill. Dark energy flowed into the chasm, brimming over the edges of it, beginning to take more space in your psyche.

“No. When you left the system and took the prize, the fighting ended, and the hunters just melted away. You know how it is. They’re mercenaries. They’re not zealots.”

“Did you do this? Did you?” Surging up, the helmet clunked to the ground. Din was on Karga in a second, dominant hand coming out to push at the older man’s chest, words demanding and furious.

“No!” Was all the older man could shout back, knowing he was no match for even an injured Mandalorian in close combat. The hand not holding fast to a blaster came up to try and placate the approaching man, though he didn’t make an actual move to push back.  

“It was not his fault.” A woman’s modulated voice broke the tension suddenly. Din turned around slowly, peering into the darkness that it came from. It was as if he recognized the voice, because he made no move to raise a weapon up. Cara startled, as did ad’ika. But you stood still, unwilling to make yourself a target lest the person be a threat.

“We revealed ourselves.” A tall woman appeared from the mouth of a tunnel that jutted off from this one. Her helmet glinted gold in the low light, small horns a decoration jutting along the top. She was dressed in a deep red, the armor painted over a dull brown outfit of leggings, a skirt, and a long-sleeved shirt. She had a shorter cape about her shoulders, though it was made of thick brown fur.

She was completely calm, voice controlled and the cadence in line with those who seldom used Basic.

She leaned down to retrieve some of the armor, motions precise and almost leisurely.

“We knew what could happen if we left the covert. We were made aware of your situation by that one there hiding among the shadows. The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter. This is what resulted.”

She explained easily, no remorse or malice in her tone. It simply became a part of what happened, something she would carry silently with her. A part of her history that would one day be a verse in her song, but for now it was something that she must take in stride and move forward.

But you weren’t so collected.

You felt nausea rise up from your stomach and into your chest, recalling the way you had tracked the blue armored man and approached him. You had only wanted to help, only wanted to ensure Din hadn’t walked into a death trap in his escape with ad’ika. You hadn’t meant for the chain of events to end like this. With so many dead and now lost to the never-ending fight against the Empire. The fault for it once again. Adding another regret to the long list you carried with inside yourself.

They had already lost so much, very life eradicated from their home world, an entire culture nearly wiped out. And you had played a part in it, once again proving those who manipulated you right. You were capable of dangerous, powerful things. Breathing shaky, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the pile of armor. The beskar began to rattle, the tendrils that wrapped around your psyche tightened and pulled. Causing you to crash to your knees with a painful gasp.

“Did any survive?” As Din carefully asked, you untucked the pendant he had gifted you from your pocket, the cord he had used to keep it around his neck secured to your belt. You clenched your hand around it until the beskar it was made up bit into your palm, the pain centering you in a way that you both hated and were grateful for.

“I hope so. Some may have escaped off world.”

“Come with us.”

“No.” She continued to load pieces of the armor to the cart pulled up behind her, an inkling of the reason on the tip of your tongue. “I will not abandon this place until I have salved what remains.”

Din followed her, turning to enter the space that opened up to the left. Cara and Karga shared a look before they turned to you, moving to follow him when you didn’t look up from your spot on kneeled on the ground, hand still gripped tight around the pendant hanging from your belt.

The forge nestled in the middle of the space was quiet, the soft hush of the constant fires a small comfort to the man who followed behind the armorer of his people. He watched silently as she began to feed pieces into the forge and melt them down.

“Bring her to me, I wish to speak to her.”

Din obliged silently, walking back out into the main tunnel. He kneeled down in front of you with a few heavy pants of exertion, hands reaching out for you but he thought better of it and voiced a soft call of your name to garner your attention. Your head snapped up, eyes filled with tears and a shadow of regret in them. They glinted in the low light and he worried what it meant.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“ You took a deep breath in, voice cracking and filled with emotion. “I didn’t mean for anyone to die. I just- I just wanted to help. You were outnumbered beyond capability and I was too weak to fight.”

“You did help, mesh’la. You approached them for help, and they rallied to heed the call. This is the Way.”

He reached out for your hands when he noticed them clenched into tight fists, digging his fingers beneath your own and relieving the tension. The mythosaur pendant was revealed and he watched as it fell to rest against your thigh. “Please don’t hurt yourself, you don’t deserve it.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look directly into the visor, guilt rolling off of you in waves. He could feel the trembling of your arms as he gripped your hands, trying his best to gently pull you up with him as he stood. You probably helped him get back to his feet as much as he had done for you, sharing in the simple task that was too much at the moment. He dropped the contact as soon as you were both on your feet, not wanting to push you or make you uncomfortable. It was obvious you were still reeling from what happened in the cantina. From him not allowing you to heal him and urging you to save yourself. But it would have to wait, the discussion of the day, for you two. To occur between closed doors and with secured privacy for you both.

“She wants to talk with you, the Armorer.”

Following behind him, you watched the way he was moving gingerly, focusing on pulling up the weight of his legs to move forward, his arms nearly motionless at his sides. The woman was standing before the impressive forge, silhouette bold. 

“Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction.”

“This is the one.” Din motioned to the bad being carried by IG-11, ad’ika preened under the attention, glad that his guardian was back alongside him. Even if the young being could sense the pain and discomfort the armored man was in. That he was pushing through to continue to protect him, to shield him from those threats with which he had directly challenged all those days ago after first meeting him…

“This is the one that you hunted, then saved?”

“Yes. The one that saved me as well.” Din’s response was even, polite.

“From the mudhorn?"

“Yes.”

“It looks helpless.”

“Ad’ika is injured, but he is not helpless. His species can move objects with its mind.”

“Ad’ika? It is unusual that you’ve deemed it a nickname. Have you bonded?”

“….a little. But Mesh’la-“

“Another nickname, how…personal of you.” Her interest was piqued, the tone of her voice lightening a smidge. Almost as if her lips were quirked up in a knowing smile.

“I gave him the nickname, he will not communicate his given name with me and it’s made things easier as time moved on and we traveled with him in our charge. In…burc’ya’s charge.” You spoke up, hoping you weren’t overstepping any unspoken rules. You had never interacted with this woman, but your experience with previous Mandalorian Armorers had been different. They had held high, important positions in the culture but something about her seemed….more. She was the head of her faction, if you had to guess. A guiding member of her own covert, if her remaining behind to care for those in death as she had looked after them in life was any indication.

Children of the Watch, Akiz would describe them, had described them to you. He had been a part of that faction of Mandalorian culture as well, though his covert had been wiped out before his time on K’ath. Where your paths crossed and your time together was solidified in the stars. Their practice of the culture more in tune with the religious scripture. Stricter adherence to the mentality of concealing one’s identity, that they were all of one identity.

Tension existed between them and the general population of Mandalore, you had noticed even as a child, due to their beliefs. It wasn’t anything that caused conflict, thankfully, just a strained interaction or two depending on how individuals reacted to the knowledge. Mandalorian’s were accepting people, an accepting culture for the most part. But there were bad seeds and ill notions as with any large population.  

But he had been nothing but loving and kind to you, giving you a chance at a life you wouldn’t have had without him responding to your distress call and rescuing you. The same for Din, despite having been his target of capture to return to your mother in a business transaction. The man had overlooked his responsibilities in order to allow you freedom, saved by a selfless Mandalorian once again. Gifted his intentions of personal pursuit, a connection that was proving to be so much more than either of you could have guessed back in that desert compound….

“I know of such things. And she is the one who did so when another appeared to defend its fallen mate?”

“Yes.” He nodded to you, signaling that it was indeed okay to respond to the woman’s rather direct and simple questions.

“Elek, vod.”

Yes, ma’am.

“Gar jorhaa’ir Mando’a.”

You speak Mando’a.

“Elek, ni kar’taylir jorcu be ner cabur. Akiz Noves.”

Yes, I know because of my guardian. Akiz Noves.

“Gar cuyir a evaar'la solus.”

You are a foundling.

She moved with an easy confidence, pulling more ladles of molten beskar from within the forge. Taking them to her work bench and pouring it into a set of molds she had laid out. Taking from the old to create new, a cycle that allowed for her culture to persevere.

“Nayc, ni cuy be a nuarra. A kaysh ogir par ni tion’tuur ni gaa’tayl.”

No, I am of a different Creed. But he was there for me when I needed help.

“Tion gar gal?”

What is your name?

“Noves, gifted to me from my guardian. San, is my given name.”

“And you hold the same power?”

“Yes.”

“The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore the Great and an order of sorcerers called Jedi that fought with such powers.”

“He’s an enemy?” Din seemed surprised, while he may only know what he did of them through you, you hadn’t mentioned that those who followed his way of life and yours were sworn enemies. He looked over to you, the woman taking notice of the shared look between you both as you slightly shook your head to assure him that you hadn’t been deceiving him all this time. He wouldn’t have believed it of you, with how things had developed between you both, the connection you two shared. Surely you would’ve told him if the child was a being typically raised with a disposition toward his own.

“No. Its kind were enemies in the sense that battles took place throughout history when ideals did not align. But these two individuals are not. It is a foundling.” She turned her back on to the line your group made in front of her and began to move about the workspace. “By Creed, it is in your care. And she is your key to reuniting it with its own kind should she not want the responsibility herself.”

Items in her grip as she tilted her helmet toward you, another question sounding from her.

“You are sworn to the Jedi Creed, are you not?”

“I…I was. I no longer adhere to either side of the Force. I am sensitive to it, can wield it.” It was an honest half answer, the morality of the question too detailed to get into at the moment. Something you weren’t sure anyone who wasn’t Force sensitive would even begin to understand. But you wanted her to know that you weren’t trying to deceive her or her authority. You were simply being as plain as you could with her, knowing it would mean a great deal to Din for you to do so. That you didn’t want to anything other than show her the respect she deserved.

“You allowed her aboard your ship, share your wares with her as an equal. She can aid you in this mission. Your journeys are intertwined, it was almost as if the Maker knew and set your paths parallel. This is the Way.”

“I have stated my intention of courtship.” Din announced, completely honest with the woman leading the conversation. He respected her, deeply. It was obvious in the way that he stood, at attention despite his injuries no doubt making it hard for him to even concentrate and stand up at all. He should be resting, a luxury you knew all too well was something out of reach when the lives you led seldom allowed for it.

“And have you accepted?” The visor settled into the gold of her helmet was trained on you fully now, watching you with an intensity that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

You could sense the stillness of Din across the room, his breath baited as he waited for your answer. It would be so easy to lie, to cut the ties between you both that have developed in the wake of losing control. The connection intense enough to influence the balance that had taken you years to find within yourself, all-encompassing and completely terrifying. The confession he whispered to you as he lay injured echoed in your ear, the return of it on the forefront of your mind. Feeling heat blossom in your chest as you recalled the emotions he stirred in you, all the good, you nodded in affirmation. Knowing the importance of declaring such a thing to the woman before you. Of declaring it to Din plainly, even in the wake of the day’s events.

“Yes, he means a great deal to me.” You breathed out, conviction obvious, the sentiment behind the words not lost on you.

“Hey, not that this isn’t exciting information, but these tunnels will be lousy with Imps in a matter of minutes. We should at least discuss an escape plan.” Her lips quirked again, similar to how they had done when Din admitted to you knowing his name, that he had shared it with you and allowed you to use it.

“If you follow the descending tunnel, it will lead you to the underground river. It flows downstream toward the lava flats.” She turned her attention back to the forge, extending a long handled ladle into the depts of it and retrieving out the molten beskar of the armor she had carefully placed in it moments before.

“I think we should go.” Cara urged, not wanting to become trapped beneath the city as the troops above figured out a way into the tunnels. However winding and confusing they were, it was only a matter of time until they closed in on your position. Especially if you weren’t moving. You had a better chance out in the open landscape, could hide out somewhere and bid your time until nightfall. Get back to the Crest or manage to steal a ship from the city outskirts.  

“I’m staying, I need to help her, and I need to heal. Mesh’la can take ad’ika and go with you, hide out until we can reconvene.”

“You must go. A foundling is in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father. This is the Way.”

The room stilled, it was obvious Din wanted to argue his point, but he remained quiet. His need to provide for his people an integral part of the man that he was and he was being instructed to leave the only known surviving one behind. You weren’t sure if you would be able to do so either.

“You have earned your signet.” She walked over to him, a metal plate in her hand and a small welding tool. She fastened it to his right pauldron with quick work. When she stepped back, it was revealed to be the skull of a mudhorn. While you and Din gazed at the addition to his beautiful armor, she moved about the space with admirable concentration and ease.

She walked back to her work bench, retrieving the molds she had filled earlier and removing the now cooler metal. She gathered them with a pair of tongs, moving to plunge them into the vat of water used to set pieces. After a few moments, she deemed them perfect and pulled them out. Wiping them down and taking the mallet to a few places, she revealed her work to be a pair of pauldrons.

She held the armor out to you.

“When a Mandalorian courts, that is a very important bond.” You stepped forward at her beckoning, allowing her to fasten the pieces of armor to your shoulders, her gloved fingers moving your cape out of the way with careful motions. Feeling the presence of Akiz watching over you as she did so. You closed your eyes, immersing yourself in the feeling of being accepted by the woman, by the leader of Din’s covert. Of being folded into Mandalorian culture once again. Thankful for the endless kindness and protection its people had provided to you throughout your life.

The weight of the armor was foreign, beskar being known as one of the strongest and most dense metals in the galaxy. But it was also comforting, akin to being wrapped up in the arms of someone you trusted.

“And though you are not to be riduurok just yet, that makes you a part of his clan. A clan of three.”

She fastened a twin signet into your right pauldron, mirroring the way she had done with Din.

“Thank you. I will wear this with honor.” Reverence coated his somber tone, aware of the importance of finally being given such a symbol from the leader of his covert. The importance of the Armorer gifting you the set of pauldrons, his signet. That it was not given lightly, nor without thought.

“I will as well, your craftmanship is inspiring.”

“While you still follow another Creed, you have been folded in our own, it is a great honor.”

An explosion sounded overhead, too close for comfort. The commotion broke the scene, calling everyone back to reality in a harsh way.

“IG, please guard the other hallway. A scouting party draws near.”

Heeding the woman’s command, the droid handed the bag in its hold to Cara.

“Hang on. I don’t do the baby thing.” Ad’ika squealed happily as he reached out to wave his claws in her face. She moved to hand the bag over to you, but you held your hands up in surrender.

“He likes you, accept it cyar’ika.”

“I have one more gift for your journey.” The Armorer announced. Moving behind Din and toward a chest that was up against the wall of the workspace.

“Have you trained in the Rising Phoenix?”

“When I was a boy, yes.”

“Then this will make you complete.” She turned around, revealing a purely silver beskar pack. It was beautiful, the details of it amazing as you looked over it. Din seemed to be taken aback by such an offering, his voice low when he thanked her.

“When you have healed, you will begin your drills. Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands.”

“I understand.”

“Ensure that he is completely healed before he begins, it is your responsibility to care for him until he is recovered. Do not allow him to harm himself with his notion of impatience. As I’m sure you’ve picked up on it in your time together.”

You felt a smile tug at your lips as you stepped forward, placing a hand atop Din’s left shoulder. You nodded an affirmation of the woman’s words, teasing quality to them as she displayed how well she knew the man standing between you.

Any remark you were about to make was lost as the sound of blaster fire echoed down the tunnels. Far too close for comfort. There was a loud thud, before the form of IG-11 appeared in the mouth of the workspace. Two blasters in its grip it turned to the group and assured that the threat had been taken care of.

“More will come. You must go.”

“Come with us.” Din breathed out, not a question but a silent plea of the woman before him.

“My place is here. Restock your munitions. Both of you.” When you didn’t follow the man’s steps toward the cache of weaponry, he turned to you with a tilt of his helmet.

“Mesh’la, take what you need.”

“I-I can’t. The armor is already-“ You stumbled over your worlds, overcome with meaning behind declaring your intentions with Din. With the pull toward the dark pit that had opened up inside of you that took conscious effort not to fall into its pull every second since it formed.

“You are a part of this, you’ve been accepted into the covert. You have a right to the supplies offered for battle.”

“IG, carry this for Din Djarin until he is well enough to wear it.”

“Now, go.” The Armorer held out the jet pack for the droid, ensuring it was secure before bidding you goodbye. “Down to the river and across the plains. Be safe on your journey.”

“Thank you.” Din followed after the others, allowing you a moment alone with the Armorer as you moved to stand in front of her beside the forge.

“Thank you, vod. I-I have no words to express my gratitude.”

“You are welcome, anyone who intends to become riduurok with one of our kind is accepted as one of our own. Though, I’m sure you know of such customs from your guardian. Do you still carry his armor with you?

“I have his helmet, he gifted it to me upon his death. The rest was lost in a plasma explosion. I’m sorry for not being able to deliver it to his home planet or another covert to recycle.” You bowed your head, sincere in your words.

“I hereby give you permission to alter it for yourself, should you wish to don it in battle. I will not enforce the rule of anonymity on you that the rest of us follow. Look out for him, he…means a great deal to our covert, what remains of it. He was the sole provider for many years while we stayed hidden in the shadows for our own protection.”

“I will, I swear to you.”

“Go, may our paths cross again, San Noves.” She reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, nodding at you before turning her back on you.

After what felt like far too long, the tunnels finally opened up into a wide chasm. The space filled with a flowing river, lava making up the currents as it slowly moved to the east. It was a mesmerizing sight, beautiful in the way it glowed red and orange through the crust of volcanic rock that began to harden along the top.

The heat from the river was intense, making the air too dry to breath in without feeling a sting in your lungs. You worried for ad’ika in Cara’s hold. His smaller body struggling with the new environment.

Both men dashed forward, inspecting the abandoned vehicle hovering above the river at the bank. A motionless droid was covered in hardened lava, the rock encasing the entire figure save for a part of its front and the top of its head. It looked like it had been abandoned a long while ago, days, perhaps weeks at this point if the city had been overrun for as long as Karga described. The bottom and body of the vehicle seemed to be in good shape, but more hardened lava had bridged the space between it and the shore, locking it into place.  

Both men began to push at the boat, trying their best to loosen the melding of it to the makeshift dock of the riverbank. You and Cara shared an exasperated look at their efforts, knowing there was no way one man at full strength and one at half would be able to shift it.

Din showed his growing frustration by surging up and kicking at the side of the speeder. He stumbled from the reverb of his action, and you rushed to wrap your arms around his shoulders and catch and prevent him from falling completely. There was no telling what it would’ve done to the partial recovery he had made. You didn’t want him to lose consciousness again or irritate the injuries he was fighting against. It didn’t matter how well the bacta was working, he could always make the problem worse. To the point beyond a general healing spray and that…that wouldn’t be good. You doubted he would allow you to take him to a med center, even if it was run primarily by droids. Especially if it was run primarily by droids.

“Come on! What’re you doing?”

Din pulled from your grip, nearly shrugging you off in his move to retrieve a broken piece of piping that was scattered on the bank.

“Let’s try this.” Thankfully Cara had the same train of thought as you did, that it was futile to try and force the vehicle to separate from the shoreline. She adjusted the large blaster in her hold, keeping one arm wrapped securely around ad’ika.

“You guys mind getting out of the way?”

When the bolts didn’t work to detach the speeder, you held your hands out and harnessed the power curled up inside of you, feeling it in full force as you controlled it to focus on the body of the vehicle. A low whine sounded from deep in your chest as it didn’t budge, urging you to shift your focus on the rock keeping it tethered in place. It was silent for a moment, Din stepping up beside you to assure you that it wasn’t necessary for you to do so. His words were cut off by the metallic groaning of the boat prying away from the shore to float freely in the river.

He curled a hand around your shoulder, silently praising you. As he stepped forward to board, his gloved fingers trailed down the beskar protection you had been adorned with, almost caressing the signet fastened proudly into the metal. He held out a hand to help you bridge the gap between it and the heightened shore. Your heart thudding with a few heavy beats as you took it and boarded alongside him.

Mechanical beeping and whirring had all four of you turning with blasters raised toward the ferry droid that had suddenly activated. The rock attached to it crumbled away as it activated and stood. It was tall, towering over even Din, moving to displace a metal oar from where it had been hidden among the rock.

“I don’t suppose anyone here speaks droid?”

“I believe he is asking where we would like to go.” IG-11 translated.

“Down river. To the lava flat.” Karga spoke strongly, his voice holding an air of command to it, ensuring that there was no confusion to be taken by the new droid.

Minutes passed, a lot of them, your anxiety humming as you kept your head on a swivel to catch any warning signs of an ambush, of any swarms of soldiers erupting from within the tunnels sparse openings and out into the underground one that the river flowed through.

The skittering of small rodent like creatures along the shoreline caught your attention, more than a few of them pausing in their activity to gaze at you as the speeder past by. They were cute and ad’ika seemed to agree as he raised his claws from within the bag and waved at them. They chittered at him before moving on, unsure of what to make of the odd sight of your group traveling downstream.

“That’s it! We’re free!”

“No, we’re not.” A gloved hand pressed to the side of his helmet, displaying a view for Din that he described for everyone else. “Stormtroopers. They’re flanking the mouth of the tunnel. It looks like an entire platoon. They must know we’re coming.”

“They were ordered there to prevent us from escaping, even if we didn’t take this route. Moff Gideon wouldn’t chance it.” It had to have been him ensuring he didn’t lose you to the wilds of the planet, the landscape endless and easy to secure a hideaway. With the sun setting in mere hours, you could be lost for the night, enough time for your group to figure out a way off world.

Commanding the droid to stop the speeder from traveling down river was fruitless. It merely chirped and beeped, not heeding the sudden flux of words aimed at it. When it didn’t seem to understand anything, Karga fired on it. But that didn’t seem to stop the momentum of the speeder, now floating of its own accord toward the mouth of the tunnel, toward the sunlight and waiting ambush.

“We’re still moving.”

“Looks like we fight.”

“There are too many.”

“Then what do you suggest? Cause I can’t surrender.” Cara hissed, setting the bag down atop a seat in the bed of the speeder. Ad’ika gurgled, hands reaching up for someone, anyone to pick him back up. You were about to reach for him when IG-11 stepped forward to take him in its arms again.

“They will not be satisfied with anything less than the child and the Sith.”

“Not a Sith.” You hissed out, pinning the droid with a glare, lava spouting up around the speeder. Some of it splattered up against the side of the vehicle, the metal steaming as it melted under the contact.

“Apologies, I was inferring from-“

“You inferred wrong.”

“Understood. This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy and you will escape.”

“You don’t have that kind of firepower, pal. You wouldn’t even get to daylight.” Din was quick to put a pin in that idea, not willing to give up the extra set of hands.

“That is not my objective.”

“We’re getting close. Saddle up.” Karga pointed towards the entrance mere yards away now.

“I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer. If my designs are compromised, I must self-destruct.”

“What are you talking about?” Confusion in his tone, Din faced the droid head on, trying to understand exactly the point it was trying to make.

“I am not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed.”

“Are we gonna keep talking, or get out of here?”

“I can no longer carry this for you. Nor can I watch over the child.” IG-11 reached down to hand ad’ika over to Din, the armored man taking the bag with steady arms. Quiet thuds of tiny hands against his cuirass displayed the child’s delight.

“Wait. You can’t self-destruct. Your base command is to watch the child. That supersedes your manufacturer’s protocol, right?”

A pause.

“That is correct.”

“Good. Now grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out.”

“Victory through combat is impossible. We will be captured. The child will be lost. The woman will be lost.” IG-11 began to cross the width of the speeders bay, toward the right side of the vehicle. “Sadly, there is no scenario where the child is saved, in which I survive.”

“Listen, you’re not going anywhere. We need you. Let’s just come up with a…” Din’s words trailed off, no other solution coming to mind for him to voice.

“Please tell me the child will be safe in your care.” Head turned toward the armored man, waiting for confirmation. “If you do so, I can default to my secondary command.”

“But you’ll be destroyed.”

“And you will live, and I will have served my purpose.”

“No,” He sounded almost…remorseful. You could feel the conflicting emotions wafting from him, read it in the stance he had, the way his shoulders were set. “We need you.”

“There’s nothing to be sad about. I have never been alive.”

“I’m not…sad.” Din argued weakly.

“Yes, you are. I’m a nurse droid. I’ve analyzed your voice.”

IG-11 reached out a hand and caressed the tip of ad’ika’s ear in a parting gesture.

“What’re you doing?” Karga demanded as you all watched the droid step out from the deck of the speeder and down into the slow-moving river. The metal of its legs hissing at the sudden barrage of temperature. The mechanics tried to hold out as it trudged forward, flames licking up the sides slowly.

A pulsating alarm began to beep, a chasm in the chest piece opening up the second IG-11 was outside the mouth of the tunnel. A blinding explosion erupting seconds later. The screams of the waiting soldiers hurt your ears, the flash bright even behind shielded eyes. The speeder continued on, moving through the cloud of smoke and ash that lingered in the air.

The bodies of the dead soldiers were scattered and you tamped down a flood of memories from the last time you had been at the sight of such a directed attack on them.

There was no time to revel in the defeat, the screeching of a TIE fighter hurtling through the air and right at your groups position. Moff Gideon not giving up even in the face of losing another faction under his command. Cara and Din raised their blasters, prepared to shoot his ship from the air. It was not a match for the focused fire he laid down as the ship swooped low, though no hits landed directly over you.

“He missed!” Cara shouted out, hope coloring her words.

“He won’t next time.” You spoke evenly, wanting them to understand the situation at hand. The only way this was going to end was with someone’s death. Be it one of yours, all of yours, or Gideon’s. The conflict would drone on until the threat was eradicated, you just hoped that your side was the one that came out victorious.

“Our blasters are useless against him.”

“Hey, let’s make the baby do the magic hand thing. Come on, baby! Do the magic hand thing.” Karga waved his hand frantically in the air, prompting ad’ika to follow his command. But all the child did was wave back at him, cooing all the while with a curious expression.

“He doesn’t have that type of control.” You reasoned, not wanting to rely on ad’ika’s powers when thwarting the flame thrower had taken so much from him.

“He did it back in the cantina!” Karga argued, brow furrowed at his lack of understanding the nuances of something that could really help in their favor.

“He was emulating me, he doesn’t really have an understanding of harnessing his powers like that.”

“Give him some credit, jeez.”

“He needs to rest, he’s overwhelmed!”

“Then I’m out of ideas. If you refuse to use it yourself.”

“I never said I refused, I need a clean line of sight.” You looked over your shoulder, worried for ad’ika as he cried out at the heightened emotions between all four of you. You leaned down to rub a hand over his small back, ensuring he was snug in the bag. You tried to push a good feeling through the connection, wanting to comfort him in any way. A strike of pain rained down from the crown of your head and ad’ika’s small claws dug into the front of your tank top.

“I’m not out of ideas.” Din interrupted your harmless bickering, something in his town making you turn to him fully.

“Here he comes!” Distant roaring signaled that the ship was maneuvering and about to return.

Din set his blaster back in the holster on his hip. Reaching down with a grunt of effort to lift up the jetpack that had just been gifted to him, confirming your suspicions. There was no way he was healed enough to maneuver through the air with it, that he could pick it up so quickly and focus with his head having been cracked open. The phantom feel of his blood thick on your hands making you shake them out.

“She said to wait until you were healed!” You rushed forward and cupped your hands over his shoulders, hoping a gentle touch would help to convince him not to go through with what he was thinking. Urging him to listen, to consider that it was too much of a risk that he didn’t need to take. “You’ll injure yourself further, it’s not the only option.”

“It’s what we’ve got right now.” He reasoned calmly, chest heaving with deep breaths as he tried to move about like normal. He was feeling the weight of his full armor, you suspected, the jet pack adding to the struggle to keep up and focus.

The ship swooped low, too close for comfort, firing out in a wide line around the river’s edge. With a shout you stretched your arms out, the ship pivoting heavily to the right. The unexpected movement caused the remaining blasts to hit along the mouth of the tunnel. Deep rumbling signaled the collapse of the tunnels inside, the support of the opening damaged, sheets of broken rock crumbling into the river as the natural structure dissolved.

While you had turned your attention from him, Din had successfully docked the jet pack into the back panel of his armor. Eyes roving over the sight of him completely pieced together, you felt your heart skip a beat. Admiring the image he created against the expansive landscape, armor glinting in the lowering sun in a beautiful way.

And you couldn’t lose him. You wouldn’t.

Recovering from the manipulation, the TIE fighter was soaring directly toward you. Din was standing at the front of the speeder, stepped up on the lip of the vehicle. The engines on the TIE fighter lit up, whirring as they settled on their target. Din’s broad silhouette backed by the incoming threat sent chills down your spine. You blinked rapidly, his figure morphing into the image of a taller man, adorned in a deep blue armor instead of his pure beskar. The explosion of the shots along the ground as the ship neared shook the ground, dirt and pieces of the volcanic rock rising up high into the air. At the last second, before the shot inevitably hit the vehicle, Din bent his knees.

Without a look back at you, he took off into the air.

A cable flew from his vambrace at clicked onto the top of the ship, whipping the man forward as it surged past. You cringed, worry for his head flooding you. If he were to lose consciousness that high up in the air, got tossed off the ship….

You could only watch with the breath stolen from your lungs as he was whipped around, unable to gather his bearings. But he did, finally, jetpack sparking to life, and he grappled a desperate hold onto the body of the ship.

It suddenly began to spiral, controlled surely by a concerned Gideon. You gasped out, hands coming up to your mouth as you watched the body of armor crash into the wings of the ship, scrabbling to keep hold and not get tossed off.

“He’ll be okay, cyar’ika. We have to have faith in him.”

She had spoken a moment too soon because his body was flung from the ship, hurling through the air without a tether.

“No!” Voice hoarse, you scrambled over the errant items inside the space of the speeder. You jumped from the bed of the vehicle, onto the rocky shore of the river and began to sprint. Halting a few yards into the vast landscape, you held both your arms out and focused on the sight of a falling Din. The speed of his fall slowed, allowing him to swivel his head to take in the sight of you so far down below trying to aid him.

His arms flailed as he tried to help align himself as he tumbled through the air, thankful you were doing what you could to slow his rapid descent. As the TIE fighter lost a wing to a sudden explosion, flames and black smoke billowing up, did Din finally manage to engage his jetpack. As soon as he landed clumsily on the ground beside you, grunting at the force of the landing on his body, the ship crashed to the ground just beyond the small crest of a ridge.

Not even a second passed before you were rushing off toward it. Passing by Din with a focus he had only seen when you were in battle. Brows furrowed and eyes alight. Your name being shouted behind you as your legs carried you as fast as you could. You could faintly hear the scuffle between Cara and Din, her catching him as he tried to follow after you, warning him to be careful and that you could take care of yourself. That he had to trust in you that you wouldn’t go too far.

You panted, feeling immeasurable power surge through you. But it wasn’t the pure side of the Force you typically harnessed.

“That was impressive, Mando. Very Impressive.” Karga praised as he approached them. Din had convinced Cara he wouldn’t run after you, allowing her to focus on the child in her grip. Small claws reaching out for the armored man. Extending a shaking hand out, Din allowed the child to grip his gloved fingers.

“It looks like your Guild rates have just gone up. And Sarad’s set at an exceptional rate for a newcomer should she be interested.”

“I can’t speak on her behalf.” He gazed out at the landscape, in the direction of the ridge. He could make out with the help of his helmet, that you had just scaled the top of it, disappearing on the other side. You were upon the crash of the ship.

“Let’s get this speeder running, we can pick her up on the way back to the city.” Cara suggested, not wanting to leave you out in the plains along for too long. Agreement rang out, and they all loaded back up into the vehicle, Din slumping into a seat.

“Let’s go get your girl, Mando.”

“She’s not a possession.” Din hissed out, annoyance flaring.

“Oh, you know what I mean. Don’t read into the phrasing.”

The speeder was slow, mechanics lagging from being exposed to the heat of the river for so long.

Silence tense as it trudged across the open land.

“Her saber turned red.”

Din remained silent, not wanting to delve into speculation over what it meant.

The others seemed to understand that it wasn’t their place, even if they were simply showing concern for your wellbeing.

“You have no control!” You swung your saber, the hum of it lowering in pitch as you cut into the shoulder of the man beginning to crawl through the broken glass of the ship’s viewpoint. The body of it was smoldering, flames licking over the expanse of it, the result of the charges Din had managed to fasten to it.

“You’re weak. You will always be weak. That’s why the pull to the dark side is so strong in you. It can sense that you need guidance, that you need control. And it will take everything from you as it transforms you in its image.” Gideon huffed out, surging forward despite the blood seeping into the fabric of his clothing.

“You’ll fall to it, you’ll give into it with no one to guide you. And you’ll turn that innocent, unsuspecting child in your image. You will experience nothing else, only darkness and destruction and the death of those around you.”

He tore himself out of the debris, standing to his full height and engaging a blade that hummed in much the same way as your lightsaber. It was lined like a true blade, black that gave way to bright white of a kyber crystal housed in the handle.

It stopped you in your tracks. The bright glow of it captivating you, whispers seeping from it and tickling your mind. So distracted as you were, you could only step back with each approaching one of his. Your own weapon hanging low at your side, crackling in a response to the enchanting blade in the man’s hand. 

“Couldn’t save your beloved guardian and you’re not going to be able to save your delusional Mandalorian now. I will have his head if it’s the last thing I do. I will have the head of your precious child if it’s the last thing I do. They will die, they will both fall. You won’t be able to save the man you love. Again. It means more to me than anything to bring them down and take what I want from your lifeless bodies.”

You exhaled heavily as you plunged your saber out. The harsh crack of the blades connecting echoed across the plains. You merely blocked his attacks, gauging his style and still too enamored by the twin pulls of the dark tendrils wrapping around your ankles and that of the weapon in the man’s possession. When it glided across the armor you had been gifted, you snapped out of your defensive reverie, teeth gritting as you returned the gesture.

He grunted when you sliced into his shoulder a second time, arm going limp at his side as the blade cut into the space between his own armor that allowed for movement. His eyes widened as he realized you weren’t going to succumb to the energy wafting from you, that it wasn’t overpowering you in the way that he had anticipated, that he had seen before as you struggled against it. Unwilling to succumb to the pull of it, the almost sentient energy. You were harnessing it. And he allowed a smirk to pull at his lips.

“So predictable, dear San.” He pressed forward, holding his useless arm to his side. Taking the injury in stride if it meant that you were crumbling. “Falling into the same traps time and time again. So easily manipulated. When will you learn that there is nothing more for you than the title of a Sith?”

Your blade crackled, gaining intensity to its glow, white tinted at the base of it. The red seeping into the entire thing, casting your face in the light.

“There is no love for someone like you. Not of a parent, not of a guardian, not that of a partner. You were born to this, the rise to power with the dark side. Nothing else will come to you, your foolish Mandalorian will see your true nature soon enough and abandon you. His history suggests he only cares about his people, his Creed. What could he possibly want from you, so steeped in emotion and vulnerability.”

Swiping at his feet, he stumbled, cape fluttering as tried to catch himself on his knees. But you were throwing him toward the rubble of the ship with an outstretched hand. He could do nothing as he felt the energy wrap itself around him and command his body as if it was its own. He cried out as the broken metal of the frame bit into his back. The snap of his armor against it was loud. Gasping suddenly as he couldn’t breathe in, the air stolen from his very lungs.

Wide eyes turned to you, hand clenched in a fist as you constricted his airways. Watching with an unnerving calmness as the blood vessels in his eyes began to bleed, the veins in his neck began to bulge, his dark skin taking on a ruddy tone as he struggled.

With heaving breaths, you dismantled the TIE fighter down with your saber until it was nothing but a pile of smoldering metal and broken glass. Barricading the man inside.

Just as you began to distance yourself from the ship, the speeder from the river appeared over the ridge, moving toward you. Sighing, you waited for it to stop at the bottom before trudging on. Not risking it getting too close to the flames and smoke of the TIE fighters remains.

“You should get checked out, ad’ika too.” Your words were flat as you approached the group of them alongside the speeder. Din was leaning heavily against the side of it, helmet slumped, the bottom of it resting on his cuirass. Everyone perked up at the scuff of your approaching form.

“No.” Breathless, he could barely get the word out though it sounded strong to your ears through the modulator. The mechanics hiding the way his expression was pinched and his eyes were blinking rapidly against the pain reverberating through his entire body. You could sense his discomfort, the way his heart was beating irregularly, attuned to him in such a personal way enhanced through the pulse of dark energy flowing through you still.

You sighed, frustration building up at the recollection of how he could barely move mere hours ago and his refusal to let you try to heal him. Gideon’s confident words echoing in your head, incessantly.

“I’m not letting you fly without medical clearance.”

“Let me?” His helmet rounded on you, surprise through the modulator. The glint of the sun on the visor mirrored how his eyes did so underneath as he pushed away from the side of the vehicle. “I’m a grown man.”

“Yes.”

“All I need to do is get back to the ship.”

“Then you’ll go alone.”

“…you’re staying behind?” Hesitancy clear through the modulator. His back was to you, having turned to take in the smoking pile of what was once the TIE fighter in the distance.

“To help them free the city, yes. To ensure everyone is safe. To get supplies and more bacta for you. Whatever else we may need to combat your injuries.” You softened, features displaying the exhaustion weighing you down. Your hands were fiddling with the pendant he had given you, the shine of the beskar in the sunlight bright between your fingers. “I…I would really appreciate it if you humored me and got a scan done at the med center. Just…just so we know what’s wrong and how to heal it.”

“I’m fine.”

“But I’m not.” He whirled around quickly, too quickly, his footing unbalanced at the motion, and he stumbled. The question of what was wrong on the tip of his tongue when you trained your shining eyes on his visor. “Din, I- I need to know you’re okay. Truly okay. Please.”

He turned back around, unable to take in the sight of the earnest concerns falling from your lips, the tears threatening to fall.

He didn’t take his gaze from the distant crash sight, helmet overlooking the scene through different lenses, ensuring that the threat was truly eradicated.

“I can’t look after you if you don’t let me. And before you say it’s not my job, Din, it is. You made it so when you announced your intentions to court me with the Armorer.”

“You think I have regrets in doing so?” Timbre of his voice low, a warning in his tone that sent alarm bells ringing in your head. The first real conflict between you both, weighing heavily in the tense air.

“No.” Was your immediate answer, truth behind the word though it was spoken in a tight voice.

“Do you?”

“No! I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s it, I’m not…I’m not trying to do anything except for that but if you think I’m trying to get your kriffing helmet off so I can see you when you’ve explicitly told me you didn’t want to and I know the customs then then-“ You scrambled to remove the beskar fastened around your shoulders and thrust it into his chest. You hadn’t even wanted to say those things, furl the accusation at him along with the armor, but something compelled you to. Anger striking harshly and taking hold. Manipulating you into succumbing to it, the feeling of a pit opening inside your mind. Dark and beckoning. He swayed back with the force of it pressed to him, modulator crackling as he realized you were completely serious. “Maybe we were foolish to entertain the thought. Leave. Just go, Din.”

“Mesh’la-“ His knuckles popped as he held the armor in his hands, wound as tight as he could ever remember, a thrumming low in his head that was steadily gaining momentum and making it hard to focus. He could feel the energy flowing from you, see it in the twitching of your muscles and the lack of control you seemed to have over your words. It was unlike you, to raise your voice, to be so unwilling to hear him out, to take his words into account. He was trying his best to keep up but he wasn’t handling it well, he knew that. He…he felt so nauseas and dizzy and he just wanted to rest.

“I have a name.”

“San, I didn’t- I don’t think that. I did not say that, do not put words in my mouth.”

“Well, you’re not exactly saying anything now are you!”

“Because I don’t have anything to say! It’s been a long day and I just want to return to the ship.”

“I think maybe we should all just- not calm down!” Cara rushed to say at the heated looks her way. The intensity of them unnerving her. “Not calm down but put a pin in this and get back to the city.”

“Fine with me.”

“I’ll meet you back at the Crest.”

Din took a few steps away from the speeder, preparing to take off with the aid of his jetpack once again.

He paused as you gasped out, trembling hands causing you to lose your hold on the speeders edge as you tried to climb in. Clenching his eyes tight and taking a deep breath, he walked back toward you. His hands didn’t linger when he helped you board this time, taking a seat at the back bench and facing out toward the plains.

When you sat down on the other side of the bench, he slowly moved to fasten the armor back to your shoulders. He silently thanked the Maker that you allowed him to do it, allowed him to fasten his signet back onto you. He wasn’t one for outward expressions but it eased his heart that you still wanted to display in even in the wake of an argument. The gravity of you choosing to wear something that signified him was not lost on him, words of a time past where you had cried out that you would never submit to anyone again echoing in his mind as the speeder traveled on.  

“Are you going to talk to me?” You knew you should give him some space, give him time to process the events of the day. To rest and feel more like himself. But you couldn’t help it, couldn’t fight the push to confront him, emotions a whirlwind inside your chest. Dark pit opened up right in the middle and tainting everything that you were. You watched on as if you weren’t in your own body, as you continued to push the man’s buttons until you both snapped.

The silence was heavy, his shoulders tight underneath his armor, hands busy searching for something within the panels making up the walls. For what, you weren’t sure. He had been silent the entire walk back to the ship, to where you had moved to closer to the entrance of the city while he underwent a general scan to ensure his injuries would heal completely. It had taken a lot of convincing, and he hadn’t been too happy with the way you begged him. Though he knew you hadn’t done so to intentionally manipulate him. You were just concerned.

It was just that he was accustomed to dealing with injuries on his own. Returning to the covert for serious things he needed help with. The migraine building in strength overwhelming him in the worst way paired with your insistence on sticking around for the rest of the day irking him. He knew it was unjustified, that he should find it endearing that you cared so much about the city and those within it, but he wanted nothing more than to retire to his personal space and put as much distance between the planet and himself as possible.

“Din, your skull was cracked open. You-your brain was exposed, and you wanted me to leave you there to die alone!”

“I didn’t want you to see it, to have to go through that, to carry that with you!” He turned sharply, voice a rumble as he realized there was no getting out of this conversation. He had hoped you wouldn’t bring it up so immediately, that you would approach him in a calmer manner when you could sense he was willing to talk.

This was unlike you. To yell and holler, to berate him with accusations. You were scared, he realized. And the dark pull of the Force was making you lash out. His actions had scared you beyond comprehension and control, you didn’t know how to cope with that chasm opened up in your psyche to allow for the tendrils to spark to life and the pit to open up. He didn’t fault you, though he did have an issue with the way you insisted on confrontation.

Emotions too bold overcoming him as he paired them with the words you had whispered to him as he lay dying in the rumble just hours ago.

“That’s not your choice to make!”

“I am not arguing about this!” He snapped, unable to quell the urge to match your volume.

“Too bad! You don’t get a say in that either!! You have to talk to me, please, just…help me understand.”

“You know the Creed, you know it’s an honor to die in battle. If I was willing to give up my life, it’s not your place to tell me otherwise.”

“Din, I could’ve healed you, I could’ve tried. I could’ve saved you.” You weren’t crying, body too worked up for even that, hurt and fear twisted into an ugly thing and making you something you weren’t.

They will die, they will both fall. You won’t be able to save the man you love. Again.

“I was ready to die.” He didn’t break the gaze he had on you, reading the emotions flitting across your face. “I was ready to die for you both to get to safety, for all of you to make an escape.”

“So you’re allowed to sacrifice yourself for me but I can’t do the same? That’s bullshit and you know it. Not allowing me to take on what I could’ve so you could live another day doesn’t warrant even a conversation?”

Anxiety was like a layer too tight skin over your entire body, making it hard to take in a full breath, to concentrate past the throbbing of your head.

“I could’ve saved you.” You repeated, lips pulled down in a frown, trying to keep the tears at bay, the trembling of your lips prone to give you away. “You-you said you loved me and then wanted to die. I could’ve saved you. I could’ve, I couldn’t, I-I-“

All of your breath left you in a sudden gasp and your words cut off as you snapped your mouth shut, teeth clacking with the motion. You tried to breathe in through your nose, but a wave of nausea overtook you and you clamped a hand over your mouth. The lingering scent of sulfur twisting your stomach. It was an ill-timed realization paired with how suddenly acutely aware of how intense you were being, how overwhelmed you were on already shot nerves. That it was the dark pit pulling you inward, inch by inch, dark temptations reaching out and wrapping around more and more of your legs while you could do nothing to fight it.

“Mesh’la…”

“I need a minute, please, just…give me a fucking minute!” You shouted, flinging out a hand toward the approaching shadow. Toward the rampage of memories plaguing you. Your voice raw as it tore through your throat. There was a sharp clang of metal on metal, but your mind was overrun by the barrage of screams and pleas overtaking your ears. The hum of your blade as it shown red all around you, reflecting in the dead eyes and on the metal walls of the ship you had destroyed in your grief. Of the wreckage caused by the crash, bathed in the sickly color.

Red, red, red. It was everywhere, all over the walls, all over your hands, your clothes, the warm feeling of it saturating you and seeping into your skin. The sight of it burned into the very synapses of your mind, pooled underneath the body of a man you loved, pooled underneath the body of a man you were in love with. Your ears began to ring, all sound muffled.

Nothing else will come to you, your foolish Mandalorian will see your true nature soon enough and abandon you. His history suggests he only cares about his people, his Creed.

Your chest hurt, heart stuttering as it tried to regulate itself in the wake of your hitching breath, unable to take a full one and calm down. The world tilted on its axis, and you went with it. Falling physically to the ground, mentally down into the void taking over more of your psyche until it was all you knew. Vision blacking out. As it did, the entire ship lurched. It took a moment for the mechanical software programmed into the ship to correct the trajectory.

All Din could do was watch as your unconscious form fell from where you had flung him across the hold, body pinned to the wall as your mind broke in a way he had been trying to prevent. Everything fastened to the walls and the panel covers had been vibrating with the force of your words and emotions, harnessing the Force unconsciously as you tried to confront him. As soon as your body hit the durasteel floor, muscles going loose did the hold you have on him diminish and everything went still.

He slumped down, backside hitting the ground, body aching all over.

It was only a moment until one of the engines began to spark then groaned. The ship lurched again, alarms beeping, lights flickering, spurring him into action. Din rushed up to the control room, remorse for having to leave you unconscious on the floor of the hold.

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dividers: by the lovely @saradika-graphics

[hina-hina]

Could you possibly do Ghost or König falling head over heels in a bar over fem! reader, but upon actually going to talk her they find she's mostly mute, signing and such. Though eager to try and converse with this tall masked man who sits at her booth, all pretty smiles and leaning in to listen.

Hello and thank you for requesting!!! This was a super cute senario!! I already wrote a selectively mute reader imagine, but this one is going to be slightly different!

Guys, I'm so sorry for being behind this week! I think I know what I want to do for 1K, but I think I'm going to finish with requests first! Again, sorry for ending my daily posts but hopefully this will cause more high quality work!

First and foremost, I am a Roach-Ghost bestie stan. Someone help me with writing accents!!! ::>_<::

This work is not beta read!!!

→ COD Masterlist

|| Ghost + König With a Mute S/O ||

Tags: Protective Ghost, Meet-Cute, Exchanging of Numbers, Soft Ghost, Bashfulness, Mute!Reader, Ghost knows Sign Language, Possible OOC Ghost (but I try to remain as faithful as possible), Nervous König, Awkward Flirting, Maybe OOC König,

Warnings: Pushy Guys, Alcohol mentions,

Female!Reader // Romantic

|| Ghost

Ghost very seldom finds people attractive. What even rarer is that he acts on said attraction. He doesn't want to doom anyone to be attached to him, a phantom that death clings to like an ill-fitting coat.

This evening wasn't unlike all the others that happened after a particularly taxing mission. They bar wasn't particularly crowded or nice, filled with stale air and some distant rock music playing over crackly speakers. The others seem content in their conversation, sipping their drinks and laughing as they unwind. Ghost was sat, mask pulled up slightly as he took the last sip from his class of bourbon.

While he does his scan of the room, something catches his eye. Or, rather, someone.

He sees you, sitting off in one of the booths. He finds himself wondering how such a pretty young women is alone in a place like this. Ghost finds himself unable to take his eyes off of you and maybe that's a good thing because he's watching when a (clearly intoxicated) man stumbles over to the booth.

For a moment, Ghost is sure this must be the man you came with and starts to turn away. However, he manages to catch your uncomfortable expression as you try to turn the man away with some hand gestures, to no avail.

With a gruff, "be right back," that is majorly ignored by his companions, Ghost pushes away from the bar and stalks closer to the booth. As he gets closer, he starts to hear what the man is saying and finds himself more disgusted. He is shocked you haven't cursed the man out and slapped him across the face for your trouble.

He clamps one of his hands down onto the (much smaller) man's shoulder, immediately causing him to freeze and glance over his shoulder. "Get lost," Ghost's dark tone reaches even this drunkards rationality causing him to scoff and stumble off.

Upon his departure, Ghost looks back at you who has now begun staring wide eyed at him. He clears his throat, gesturing to the empty booth across from you, "This seat taken?"

You shake your head, gesturing outward to the seat as if to say, "be my guest."

Ghost nods, slumping down into the seat and trying not to make it obvious he was avoiding eye-contact, "I hope that wasn't presumptuous of me. You must've came here with someon'. 'm... Simon. By the way."

You smile, still staring openly at him before shaking your head, signing something with your hands.

Ghost freezes for a moment. He didn't expect this sudden hiccup. He is, for once, thankful for being friends with Roach which led him to learning some sign in order to communicate with him more efficiently.

"'m sorry, love, I didn't catch that," the term slips out before he can stop it, "I know some sign, but can you go a bit slower?"

You look at him in shock for a moment that he can understand before slowing down and signing, "I'm here alone." and tacking on a sign-spelling of your name. You take special care to slow down, carefully signing each word to make sure he catches it. You ask him what he's doing here.

"I think I should be askin' you that. This isn't really the place for pretty ladies," he takes a secret pride in the blush that spreads across your cheeks, "I'm here with some friends."

You glance towards the bar where the other members of 141 have started to calm down a bit before signing, "I was supposed to be meeting someone here. Looks like I've been stood up, though."

Ghost scoffs, "If he wanted to meet you in this place, he ain't worth your worries."

Your smile twitches, "Your probably right. It's not turning out all bad though"

This causes a small, amused scoff to come from his mouth, "I'm glad I can entertain."

Before he could say anything further, a slightly tipsy Soap calls from across the bar, "Ghost! You comin'?" The others have begun paying their tabs and collecting their jackets. Ghost makes a mental note to smack him upside the head for interrupting, nonetheless.

He sighs, "Duty calls." Ghost reluctantly slides, from the booth. "You should get outta' here too. Need someone to take you home?"

You smile and shake your head, "No. I could settle for your number, though."

Ghost's lips twitch into an almost-smile before he holds out his hand for your phone, "That can be arranged."

He looks so baby girl here

|| König

It wasn't often König found himself going out to bars with his colleagues. Mostly because he found himself getting nervous in crowded places and because it wasn't really acceptable to wear a sniperhood in public spaces.

But, with some urging from his recently-acquired friend Horangi, he found himself reluctantly agreeing. Instead of his normal hood, he put on a simple, black surgical mask to try and help with his anxiety. At least this bar wasn't anywhere near crowded.

He still felt incredibly awkward sitting hunched over in the too-small bar stool. The others seemed to be having a good time at least, all of them caught up in some sports game playing on the tv above the bar. König quickly took a sip of his drink, scanning across the room before his eyes landed on you, sitting quietly off to the side with a group of friends. He pauses, stunned by your smile for a moment before he turns away quickly. Despite his blush being mostly covered by his mask, Horangi notices somehow. "You should send her a drink." If his eyes weren't covered by sunglasses, he was sure the statement would have been accompanied by a wink.

König gulped, "I couldn't..."

Horangi landed a friendly pat on the bigger man's shoulder, "Sure you could. What's the worst that could happen?"

König can think of quite a few things that can go wrong. But even then, he can't get your smile out of his head. He slowly lifts his hand, calling the bartender over before asking for some pleasant, fruity drink to be sent to your table. To you.

When the waiter came to collect the drink to bring to the table, König made a point not to look in your direction. He could already feel the hot waves of embarrassment wash down his back. He briefly thought about bolting from the bar before he realized it was too late, glancing over his shoulder as you scan the bar. Your eyes meet for a moment before König quickly turns away.

He expects nothing to come from it, that you would just laugh about the occurrence with your friends before going about the rest of your night. He figures he's wrong when he hears light footsteps approaching him from behind. You set the drink that he sat you down before sliding into the bar stool next to him. König glaces up nervously.

"I'm sorry..." König can't keep the apology from coming out. You frown slightly and shake your head, signing something with your hands. König pauses, clenching and unclenching his fist around his glass, "Oh... I don't know that much English sign..."

You nod sympathetically, thinking for a moment before gesturing to yourself before slowly fingerspelling your name. König watches intently before nodding slowly, "My friends call me König." At you curious look he laughs softly, "It means King in German. It's a... long story." He didn't really want to get into why he got his callsign.

You smile, slowly signing something along the line of "thank you" before gesturing towards the drink.

König nods, resisting the urge to sheepishly rub at the back of his neck, "Your welcome... I didn't know if you would like it or not."

In response, you smile and take a sip of the drink.

He finds himself laughing softly, turning more openly towards you before saying, "I'm glad. I'm sorry for taking you away from your friends. Your just... Really pretty."

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You start to slowly sign something else but your friends call out to you. You both turn, seeing your friends had begun to collect their things. This causes you to frown slightly, which König can't help but find unreasonably cute, before you turn an apologetic look back to König. He waves his hands dismissivly, "No, no, I-It's alright! Go and join your friends."

You take the last sip of the drink he sent you before pulling the napkin you had been using as a coaster from beneath it. You reach across the bar and grab a nearby pen, quickly squibbling down your number onto the napkin before presenting it to König. He takes it carefully, staring astonished before shrinking into himself, trying to hide a rising blush, "Danke..."

You smile before winking back at him, moving towards the bartender to pay your tab before throwing one last look at König that says, "You better text me!"

König nods, carefully folding the napkin and sticking it into his pocket before letting out a deep sigh. He can't help the small smile the comes to his face when he thinks about talking to you again.

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

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[space-helen]

Eternity

Words: 1192

Pairing: Nick Stokes x Reader

A/N: I wrote this months ago... possibly at the end of last year? Early this year? idk I have a couple I still need to post.

Request: nick stokes and reader where the killer has taken the reader and is calling the lab and they can hear them hurting the reader or something? like one of the gig harbor killer episodes  - Anon

______________________

The phone lay on the table in front of the CSI’s as they all waited in anticipation.

You’d gone missing from the last crime scene you were at. Morgan, D.B and you had gone together to process the scene but it took mere seconds for you to disappear. One moment D.B had been asking you a question and the next you were gone, only a mobile phone and a note in your place.

The note gave D.B a set of instructions. One of which was to leave the scene immediately, the second was when to answer the phone.

The scene had been linked to a series of cases popping up over Vegas, a clear serial killer on a spree. The team had still been running evidence from previous scenes but leaving the last scene untouched was potentially detrimental to the case.

The team had been frantic trying to gather any evidence to find you, any surveillance footage from the area was being meticulously watched and the phone had been processed in hopes of finding anything to help them find you.

The buzz of the phone had everyone jumping in their seats slightly. Nick was the one to reach for the phone and held it in his hand for a second before accepting the call and placing the phone back down in the centre of the table.

After the call connected fully they were met by screams and whimpers. Everyone’s heart dropped at the sounds. They were coming from you. 

Nick shifted in his chair, he was absolutely torn up inside hearing you in pain. He stood up and began to move for the door, unable to listen any longer as tears formed in his eyes, the team knew about your relationship with him so he knew they’d understand.

Just as Nick reached the door your pleas stopped, all they could hear was your breathing and footsteps.

“CSI’s, I thought you would have said something by now.” the man laughed and it sent chills up their spines. “You’re probably wondering why I still have the line open as well, letting you track the call.”

Nick made his way back to his seat but instead of sitting he stood behind it with his arms crossed.

“Well that’s because I want you to find her. I’m sending a message. If you get here quick enough you can have me too. But I doubt that.” there was a pause. “For now I’ll just finish what I started.” 

As soon as he spoke his last word they could hear you pleading once more before more screams and sounds of his fist coming into contact with you and the falling of furniture and loud thuds.

D.B was quick to reach across the table and mute the lab's end of the line. “You know what to do.”

With that everyone was quick to their feet and straight to action. 

Nick's foot was to the floor as he drove, navigating the roads instinctively as he'd done a million times before but this time something greater was on the line. Pulling up to the destination he'd barely stopped the car before he was flinging himself out of it.

Everyone slightly grouped together before entering the building. A full force of officers with them, going from room to room they cleared the majority of the building swiftly before eventually finding you. 

Nick saw red, the tall man was standing over you with a knife, he didn't even hesitate to rush forward and pin the man to a nearby wall, grabbing his wrist to force him to let go of the weapon. In normal circumstances, Nick would have gone for his gun but the adrenaline had taken over and he was furious. Giving the man one last harsh shove against the wall the officers were soon pulling Nick away and cuffing the suspect.

Taking a breath Nick slightly composed himself before quickly turning on his heels and diverting his attention to you. He instantly spotted the EMT’s surrounding you, rushing forward he tried to push past them.

“Is she ok?” he was panicking “Is she alive?” his voice broke slightly.

Greg grabbed his bicep and tried to pull him away slightly. “Let them work”

He continued to struggle against the man and repeated questions about your condition but no one would respond. He watched as they moved you to a gurney, head lulling and eyes closed.

“Nick!” Greg's voice was harsh and stern, snapping the man out of his worried haze.

He finally resisted and watched silently as they took you away. “Is she ok?” he faced Greg finally, his eyes pleading.

The man was sympathetic, knowing the man had blocked out everything that the EMT’s had been saying “She’s lost a lot of blood. They said something about emergency surgery.”

Nick nodded. “That son of a bitch needs to go down for good.” Greg could see the anger inside of him.

D.B soon was with the men, an awkward silence hung for a second before he broke it. “Go be with her, Nick.”

The man’s shiny eyes looked into the older mans. “Are you sure?”

He nodded “We’re all thinking about Y/N but you’ll be better off with her. We’ll process the scene.”

Nick nodded and thanked the man under his breath, Greg gave the man a quick shoulder squeeze before Nick left to wait for you.

It took what felt like forever for you to finally come out of surgery and after that it took an eternity for you to finally wake up, but Nick stayed with you the entire time.

The man who’d abducted you was arrested and would go down for good, there would be no chance of him seeing the outside of a prison cell in his lifetime

Getting you home was a huge step, after a week of observation the hospital deemed you well enough to go home as long as you had someone with you, Nick was more than happy to be that person.

“Movie or TV show?” the man sat on the bed next to you, picking up the remote as he did.

You adjusted yourself and smiled “How about neither? Cuddles and sleep?”

A huge grin spread out on his face as he placed the remote back down “How could I say no to that?”

He got under the covers with you and the two of you were soon snuggling into each other. You yawned as you relaxed into him.

“Tired huh?” he teased.

“Says the man who had a nap this afternoon.”

“I was resting my eyes,” he teased. He pulled you in close to his side and placed a kiss on your hair.

You sighed in content “I don’t know what I’d do without you Nick.”

“I’m never going anywhere. You’re stuck with me for eternity.”

“Cheesy.” 

“Romantic.” he laughed “It’s what I do best.”

You moved your hand to lay on his torso, your thumb tracing patterns on his shirt as he adjusted the covers properly around you and relaxed into the bed. It didn’t take long for the two of you to fall asleep.

Tag List: (open) Nick Stokes @perasperaadastrawriting